Diaper Airplanes

Tonight when I picked Troy up from daycare, he was playing with a small diaper box that they were throwing away. He seemed to have no interest in leaving, so I let him play a little longer. As I was talking to his teacher, he turned the box on its side and sort of scooted backwards into it until his backside was in the box. I asked him if he was trying to get into it. To which he replied, “Yeah.” So I turned the box back up, picked him up, and dropped him in it. He immediately smiled and started moving the flaps up and down like he was flying a plane. I thought he’d try to get out at some point, because he was kind of squished in there, but he didn’t. He just sat there and enjoyed his box.

When it came time for us to leave, I still couldn’t get him out of the box. So I grabbed him and the box, and I carried them both out of the daycare. The ladies at the front desk were laughing and saying, “How cute is that! He’s so adorable!” So now we have an extra diaper box at home, which doubles as his little airplane.

Slideshow

Tonight, I changed the background on my computer to be a slideshow of Troy’s pictures. He was sitting on the floor playing with his toys, so I projected my computer into the TV. The moment he saw his picture on the screen; he got excited, stood up, and pulled himself up to stand by the entertainment system. He stood there watching his pictures flash across the screen, making a grunting noise and looking back at me when each new one would come up. 

At one point a picture of Troy with his grandfather in Greece came up. I love this particular picture, because it’s of Troy pressing his head against his grandfather’s. I was watching Troy when all of a sudden, he stretched up on his tiptoes, touched his finger to the screen where his grandfather was in the picture, and he started sort of crying. Not crying like he was upset or in pain, but more like he does when he intensely wants something. The same theatrical cry he does when he wants his pacifier. The overwhelming feeling I got was that he was reaching out to touch his grandfather as if he was right there, as if to say, “Where is he? I want him.”

Soon the picture changed, and he sat down and started playing with his toys, as if nothing happened. He made no other gestures like that to anyone else. It was strange and sweet to see him have that reaction to his grandfather. I swear he has recognition beyond his years or some unearthly viewpoint of life. Some of the things he does make me feel like he’s an old soul instead of a baby.

Tiptoes

Even with the standing now, and the fact that he's 32 inches tall at 11 months old, Troy has started to realize that there is still more world above his gaze. He's also realized that some things have depth and go down and the only way to see into them is to look over something else. I'm not sure where he learned it, or maybe it's just built-in instinct, but he's started to stand on his tiptoes to getting a better view of things. It's absolutely adorable to see him lift up onto his little toes to reach something or look over something. To see him balance with all of the confidence of someone that has been doing this all of their life. I am utterly fascinated at little things like this that he does. I know that standing up on my tiptoes is nothing at all. I do it effortlessly and without even thinking. But for Troy it's a new level of strength and development. I wonder if he consciously thinks about it, or if like me, he just does it.

Walking...er...strolling

In an effort to still be around when Troy is my age, I have started to take walks around the neighborhood. When the weather is pleasant, I take Troy with me too. It's about three and half miles, and it takes a little over an hour to complete. Normally, I wouldn't think he'd have the attention span to stick with it that long without complaining, but he does. He loves to ride in the stroller and look around at everything. He’s so curious, and there’s so much to see. As we go, he'll point at things for me to look at, and I tell him what they are. I love that he’s such a great walking companion. 

Most of the time, he makes it through the entire walk, but occasionally he'll fall asleep somewhere along the way. He'll slump over into the side of the chair, and I'll prop his head up with a blanket. And he'll enjoy the bumps and unevenness of the sidewalk as we plod along with the breeze in his hair and the sun on his face. It’s fun to hang out with him and exercise at the same time. Hopefully it will set him up with good habits later on.

The Chase

Since Troy has started crawling, I have taken to chasing after him when he starts to explore. I’ll mock run at him and nip at the backs of his thighs as he scoots across the floor. He’ll start giggling and go faster to get away from me. He always heads into the formal dining room, I’m guessing to try to hide behind the safety of the table.

Once we get in there, I’ll drop to all fours and crawl with him, since that room has carpet. It’s still tough on my knees, but nothing compared to the tile or hardwood floor. Only instead of following him around the table, I’ll go the other way. When we meet on the far side of the table, he’ll see me and stop. I’ll immediately turn around and head away from him. Seeing me in retreat, he’ll start giggling again and give chase after me. I’ll go a few paces and stop to wait for him to catch up. I look back to make sure that he’s still giving pursuit. When he sees that he’s gaining on me, he’ll turn on the afterburners and shoot across the floor, laughing the whole way. When he gets close, I’ll start going again.

We’ll make a couple of laps around the table like this, until I fake getting tired and slow down. That’s when he realizes that he has finally got me, and he’ll pick up the pace. When he gets close, he starts grabbing my foot, which makes me fake stumble. As soon as he sees me go down, he pounces! He literally starts to climb up my back end to take me down, like a lioness taking down a gazelle. I’ll let him wrestle me to the floor and admit defeat. He’ll lay on top of me victoriously, holding me down and bouncing to let me know that he won.

We both love this game, and it wears him out, so it has the added bonus of that. However, what I found out this week was that apparently Troy has started doing this with one of the little girls at the daycare, Audrey. He takes my role of crawling away from her and then stopping to make sure she’s giving pursuit. She chases after him, and he’ll start crawling again. Around and around the room they’ll go, dodging toys and furniture. And always if he gets too far ahead, he’ll stop to wait for her. I love that he’s playful. I love that he’s kind. And I love that he has been making friends to play chase with.

Pacifier Training

Since Troy has pinkeye, I took off to stay home with him today. We were sitting on the couch after one of his bottles, and he was on my lap, facing me. I’m not sure if I looked sad or upset, but he took the pacifier out of his mouth and handed it to me. Not wanting to contaminate it, I took it with my hand and pretended to suck on it before handing it back to him. He took it and immediately handed it back to me. I again pretended to suck on it. His face suddenly broke into a huge grin, and he shook his head “no.” I handed him back the pacifier, asking, “Am I not doing it right?” He again shook his head “no,” took the pacifier, and this time tried to stick it directly in my mouth to show me how it’s done. I burst into a fit of laughter. He’s such a fun baby, and he’s so smart that he’s starting to see through my bull!

First Haircut

My wife has been complaining that Troy’s hair has gotten too long, and it’s hanging in his eyes. This isn’t normally an issue because we comb it to the side. But when he gets really active, his hair falls back in his face. So today, I decided to finally give it a trim.

I put him in his high chair, and I put one of his bibs on just like they do at the barber’s shop. I then wet his hair and combed it straight down. Troy actually didn’t fuss much, anticipating that something new was happening. When I pulled out the scissors and started to cut his hair, I expected him to move his head around and squirm, like he normally does when we mess with his head or face. But he didn’t. He sat perfectly still. It was like he knew that what I was doing was dangerous. I was very proud of him.

I ended up only cutting his bangs and around his ears, more of a trim than a haircut. I left the length on the top and the back, but that will need it soon too. Since I was by myself, I didn’t want to push my luck. But for all intents and purposes, he has a proper little boy haircut, complete with a part and swooped back hair.

Book Party: The Invite

So, we sent out the "Save the Date" invitations today for Troy's 1-year old birthday party.  It's crazy to even be talking about him being a year old already, much less to be planning a party.  Apparently, it's very common for people to throw a party for 1-year olds, even though I'm guessing none of them actually remember it.  The other thing that's common is to make it themed.  Thinking of a theme did not prove to be that hard for us, since Troy has mainly one love and passion right now...reading books.  Whether at home or in the daycare, he will always find his way over to the book box.  Sometimes he'll bring it back to us to read with him, and sometimes he's content to sit and "read" it himself.  So, that's our theme, a book party.  In lieu of toys and clothes, we're asking people to bring their favorite children's books as gifts instead.  I designed and created the invitations seen here.  And now that I've started, my imagination is going into hyper drive with the possibilities.  Let the games begin!

Feed the Baby...er...Mommy

My wife was attempting to feed Troy some orange slices today. More she was attempting to let him suck on the juice and chew on the pulp. He didn't really want them, so he picked up the orange and handed it back to her. Instead of taking it, my wife leaned over and let Troy put it in her mouth. He instantly loved this game, smiling at the faces and noises she was making while eating the orange. So, she put another slice on the tray in front of him, thinking that he'd try it himself. Instead, he once again picked it up and fed it to her. Every time he'd miss her mouth, and it would fall out, he would dissolve into a fit of laughter as he picked it back up and tried again.  Over and over again until the entire orange was gone.

Not wanting me to feel left out, he frantically searched for something to feed me. He found a half-masticated, mushy piece of cereal stuck to his pant leg, peeled it off, and held it out to me. I'm ashamed to say that I couldn't bring myself to let him stick that thing in my mouth. I have come a long way in overcoming my germaphobia, but that was a bit too far. It didn't seem to bother him much. He simply turned and handed it to my wife.

#thedadlife

While I was at work today, I stuck my hands into the pocket of my hoodie only to discover a pacifier in my pocket. When I pulled it out, the person I was talking to started laughing. She jokingly asked me if I used it during meetings to calm myself when someone was being obnoxious or annoying. I laughed and said, "Yeah, it's like a Snickers bar...when I need a moment." I honestly wonder what people would do, if I were to pull it out during a meeting and just pop it into my mouth.

The more curious thing is why there is a pacifier in my pocket at all. I have ceased to be surprised by such things anymore. That's just the dad life. I think it was from when Troy and I went on our late night walk together. He fell asleep in the stroller, and not wanting to lose the pacifier in the dark, I grabbed it and put it in my pocket. But that would mean it's been in there for a couple of days. Now that I think about it, lately pacifiers are like handkerchiefs, it's probably a good idea to always have one in your pocket. You never know when an emergency will arise, and you'll need it. So, maybe I'll start carrying one around all the time.

Bad Parents

Today, we found out that in a couple of weeks Troy will be graduating from the infant classroom to the young toddler classroom. Normally, this news might make most parents happy, to think of their baby growing up and demonstrating the skills necessary to make it with the next level. But not us. This has to do mostly with the list that they gave us to prepare us for how this class is different from the last. Apparently, Troy should already be demonstrating things like drinking from a Sippy Cup, doing away with bottles and pacifiers, and sleeping on a cot instead of a crib. We’re way behind! We've been focused on eating solid foods and walking.

A month ago at Troy’s 9-month check-up, the doctor was grilling us on what Troy is doing now, so he could get a feel of how Troy is progressing in his development of fine motor skills. I’m ashamed to say that Troy failed, which really means we failed. It wasn’t so much that Troy is incapable, but more that he hadn’t had the opportunities to demonstrate the skills, so we’re not sure if he could do them or not. Since that day, we've been working with him on things and constantly challenging him to ascertain what he's truly capable of, which we could have been doing if we'd had the list BEFORE the appointment.

This leads me to my frustration and question. How are parents supposed to know what they’re supposed to be working on with their babies? How are they supposed to know what they don't know? We have been letting nature guide us by waiting for something to express itself and then nurturing the behavior with encouragement and mentoring. Like when he seemed like he wanted to roll over, or crawl, or stand, or walk. We constantly engage him, read to him, play him music, show him things in the work around him, take him places. While this is good, it isn't focused enough on the skills he needs to be learning.

Apparently, there is a very specific list of things we were supposed to be teaching him instead. How on earth am I supposed to know that we need to give him a piece of string to see how he picks it up? And not just picks it up, but picks it up with him fingertips instead of his whole hand? Or that we need to let him bang things together? Or that him standing isn’t enough, he needs to do it without leaning on anything? Or that we need to start transitioning Troy off of bottles and pacifiers and over to Sippy Cups? And the list goes on and on. Some of these things seem dangerous or obnoxious, so my natural inclination would be to stop the behavior, not to foster it.

Regardless. This is our first baby, so how are we supposed to know these things?! Our we bad parents for not doing the right thing by our son? Or are we just naive and in need of more guidance? Was there a manual issued at the hospital that we left behind? Troy is happy, out-going, fun, and learning new things every day. We thought that was enough. Apparently, we were wrong.

We've got a daddy down...there's a daddy down...

Tonight, after Troy’s bath, I left him laying on the bed and went to throw something away. The second I turned around, he flipped over and started back-crawling right toward the edge of the bed! I lept across the room, reached out my arm, and caught him on the bum just before he went off the side. I managed to shove him back onto the bed just as my socks lost traction on the hardwood floor and I went down hard on my back. As I lay there wondering if I was concussed, I realized that my first dad reflex just kicked in. Troy sat laughing at me from the bed as my wife came rushing in to find out if I was okay. All I could manage was, “Take care of the baby.” I found out later, as the big red welt swelled up on my arm, that apparently I bounced off the side of the bed before hitting the floor. This is probably what saved me from more serious harm.

Flipping Out

Diaper changes and drying Troy after baths have both become a chore now. And by chore, I mean something so difficult that they are feared and loathed. We don’t even attempt them by ourselves anymore because it’s virtually impossible to do. At least not without a vast amount of patience. 

Why? Because Troy has decided that every time we put him on his back that he must immediately flip over and stand up. If we try to hold his legs, then he sticks them straight out. If we try to bend them, then he arches his back and lifts himself bodily upward. If we try to pull him back, he’ll latch onto the bed and hang on with his iron grip. 

The only thing that we’ve found to work is to gang up on him, where one of us lays on top of him while the other attempts to work on him. Even then his bottom half is still writhing and twisting the entire time! We’re exhausted by the time it’s finally over. The entire time he’s giggling and laughing as if it’s a game.

Curious George...er...Troy

Even as I was updating that last post, Troy came over to help (or at least find out what I was doing and insert himself directly in the middle of it).  It's possible that he was making sure I got my facts straight, but I'm more inclined to believe that he saw me doing something that took my focus off of him, and he wanted to adjust my priorities.  When we're home with him, he likes us focused on what he's doing.  He will crawl to wherever we are in the house to find out what we're doing and put himself in the middle of it.  Every once in a while, like while I'm trying to write in the blog, he'll just annoy you until you stop.  But usually this is fine, because once he gets to where we're at, he'll get distracted with something else and contentedly start entertaining himself with whatever he found.

My wife was unloading the dish washer tonight, and Troy went to find out what she was doing.  When he found her, he stood up next to the dish washer, holding onto the lower basket, and attempted to lift the dishes out of it.  One would presume it was to hand them to her, so she could put them into the cabinet, but it's equally possible that he just wanted to drop them on the floor.  He has a problem with things being inside a container and feels like they should be liberated.  Or perhaps he just like to drop things on the floor.  We haven't quite figured out which it is yet.

The point is, Troy's curious about everything.  He wants to know what we're doing, and when we show him, he watches everything.  After a few minutes, presumably he feels like "he's got this," and he'll start to get into the action too.  He's gotten more bold over the last month, feeling safe within our boundaries and exploring things on his own.  It's fun to watch him work things out and learn.  He's smart and capable, and it makes you wonder what he'll eventually end up doing.  Right now, it could be anything.  My only fear is that he'll end up like me, curious about and capable about too many things, and unable to enjoy just one.  But I guess there are worse problems to have.  At the moment, we don't have to worry about that.  We only have to worry about leaving a door open, because two seconds later, we'll find him inside!

Snow Rain

We have snow this morning in Dallas for the first time in years.  My wife told Troy that it's called "snow rain" because it's raining snow.  While this could be argued as technically true, I think it could be argued in the negative as well.  Rain is technically a liquid, while snow it technically a solid.  So, it's hard to reconcile a wet solid.  Regardless, it has been falling for hours, and it's cold enough outside that the accumulation is actually piling up.  It's the first time Troy has seen snow, and he's not quite sure what to make of it.  I hope we get enough that we can go outside and play.  Maybe make a snow angel or a small snowman, like when we were in Missouri.  But if not, at least it will be a cozy, relaxing day together in front of the fire.  Which is ironic, because it hasn't been cold enough for a fire until today when winter is on its way out.

It's days like this that make me miss living in Missouri.  I was one of the few people that enjoyed getting up in the morning and shoveling the snow off my driveway.  I refused to follow in the way of my neighbor, who got a snow blower, because I felt like it would cheapen the rewards of sweating and feeling the flex of my muscles.  The experience was cathartic to me.  I was able to feel a sense of accomplishment and spend some time with God.  I hope Troy can experience the joy of a real snow one day, where he can throw himself into a huge pile of the stuff and feel himself sinking into the fluffy whiteness.

UPDATE:  Well, the snow stopped around lunchtime, and the sun came out.  It didn't take long for the sun's warmth to start melting things.  So, we bundled Troy up and took him outside to experience what little snow we had firsthand.  He loved the crunchy feel and sound of the snow under his shoes.  He loved the cold, crispness of the air.  He wasn't so keen on how cold the snow was in his hand, dropping it as quickly as he grabbed it.  All in all, he enjoyed his first experience.

For fun, we decided to build a Texas snowman.  Despite the fact that he was only about 5 inches tall, he had three balls...bottom, middle, and head.  We put some bark on his head for eyes and some small twigs on for a nose and arms.  So, he was a proper snowman.  We left him outside, but after the sun's heat got to him, he didn't last very long before he toppled over, melted into a puddle, and evaporated altogether.

Tiny Bubbles

There’s nothing quite like hearing a baby scream and cry when he’s upset. One minute of it is enough torture to get you to give up every secret that you’ve ever known. Being trapped in a car with it for 30 min is unimaginable. That is how I spent my evening. I did surprisingly better than I thought I ever could, despite wanting to react in so many ways...I didn’t. I didn’t raise my voice, I didn’t beat the steering wheel, and I didn’t scream. I just calmly drove home so I could give him the pacifier that he apparently so much desired.

I once saw one of those reality shows where someone had to sleep in a room all night listening to the song "Tiny Bubbles" by Don Ho on repeat. It nearly drove the guy mad. That’s what it felt like, but a lot less pleasant sound than "Tiny Bubbles." If I had been able to think clearly in any way, I would have recorded his tantrum. I could have sold it to the government to use in interrogations. There is no way that someone could have held out much longer than I did. I was ready to confess things I didn’t even do just to make it stop!

Come at me, bro!

Troy’s latest thing is sticking his hand out palm facing up and opening and closing his fingers. The teachers think he’s trying to say hello or goodbye with a hand gesture, but I’m not so sure. It reminds me of that scene in The Matrix where Morpheus and Neo are fighting, and Morpheus gestures for Neo to come at him. Neo ends up exhausting himself and getting whooped because he still hasn’t embraced the reality of the matrix and that he doesn’t have to follow the rules he’s been told exist. This is what I think Troy is saying with his hands. “Come at me, bro! I’ve embraced the matrix. You will be defeated!”

I See You

For a while now, I have done this thing with Troy where I'll point two fingers at my eyes and then at him, and I'll say, "I see you." Or "Se vlepo" in Greek.  On one level, I do mean that I can physically see him and I'm keeping my eye on him, in case he decides to do any shenanigans.  But I also mean it on a deeper level.

I was one of those people that was very taken by the concept of "I see you" introduced in the movie Avatar.  In the Na'vi language, it is expressed Oel ngati kame, and it means not only do I physically see you, but that I see you in a spiritual sense.  I see the very essence of you, and I comprehend who you really are.

I read an interesting story about where this concept came from and how it made its way into the movie.  There are many tribes in Africa that greet each other in a similar manner.  When two of the natives approach each other, they stop and look directly into each other's eyes for 15 seconds.  Afterward, they say something to each other and go on their way.  A foreigner witnessed this while on a safari, and he asked his guide about it.  The guide explained that it's a greeting.  At the end of the gaze, one of them will say, "I see you," and the other will respond, "I am here."

That is how I mean it with Troy.  We are connected by a special bond, by something spiritual and deep.  I want to see my son for who he is.  I want to experience him and his life personally, as if it's part of my own.  I want to be in the moment, but I also want to be moved by it.  I want to open my heart to him and take his heart into me.  That's how much he means to me.

Football and God

At one of Troy’s checkups, the doctor told us that Troy should absolutely not be allowed to watch any TV. I assume he meant that we shouldn't turn into those parents that just plop their child in front of a mechanical device and let that raise them instead. I’m pretty sure that when he said that that he didn’t mean to exclude football or church! Because if there’s two things that I want to instill in my son it’s a love for football and God, but obviously not in that order. And Troy already enjoys chilling on the couch, nestled in my arms, and watching both with me. He gets agitated when our team is losing, and he even sings during the church service.  He has a good voice, but I'm pretty sure he's not singing the same lyrics.

I've wanted to ask the doctor about this TV mandate, but I am afraid of his answer. I mean what if he's not into football or God? GASP! Can I really rely on a long-held belief that both football and God are important to everyone in Texas? It seems like ignorance is bliss in this situation. I can go on believing that his intent did not include these two things and go on enjoying both with my son.

Dad's Day Out

Since my wife had to work and CC’s wife was sick, we were both on baby duty today. Wanting to hang out, but not wanting to do the same thing we always do, we attempted a new challenge and took our sons to the mall. I didn’t see anything wrong with the idea of two men hanging out together at the mall with their infant sons, but apparently my wife and the world saw it differently.

The experience itself was fine, as we navigated getting and eating lunch, threading through crowds and stores with strollers, and an afternoon bottle stop. What I wasn’t expecting was a woman walking up to us and asking if our sons were twins. Both are white, blonde-haired, and blue-eyed. But they don’t really look all that similar. I suppose if we surmised that they weren’t identical twins, then it could be more likely, but still a stretch. But the question got me thinking bigger to if our sons were twins, then what did that make CC and I?

Suddenly, my wife’s heckling came back to me. And every look from every mall patron took on a whole new meaning. On top of that, I was pretty sure that everyone assumed that I was the girl part of the relationship. What am I doing wrong that I give off an aura of not only being gay, but also girlish gay?! But maybe the better question to ask is what is wrong with the world that two men can’t take their sons to the mall together without the world assuming they’re gay? It would not have been the same if we were women.

In the end, we had a laugh over it and didn’t really care. It didn’t stop us from continuing our day. It was merely unexpected and interesting.

Lions and Crickets

Lately, Troy has been doing this high-pitched screeching for no reason at all. He’s not upset. Many times, he does it while playing with his toys and generally happy. But for the most part, I’d say his demeanor is neutral. He just screeches.

I mentioned it to CC to see if Declan does it too, but he said he only screeches when he’s upset. He also suggested that maybe Troy is actually attempting to assert his dominance, like a young lion roaring. I told him that that might be, but it sounds more like a cricket’s chirp than a lion’s roar.

Brunch

Riding the success of our first foray to a restaurant, we decided to make sure it wasn’t a fluke and take Troy out again. This time for brunch. So we packed him up and took him to the Golden Egg.

Completely different environment! The place was packed with people and there was a constant hustle and bustle of servers and patrons. Troy’s eyes were glued to it all. After the first experience, I had brought a chain with a hiking clip on one end and one of Troy’s toys on the other. I clipped it to his high chair so he could play with it without throwing it on the floor. But it was unnecessary and unheeded as Troy watched the happenings of the restaurant.

He was exposed to different foods today; getting eggs, pancakes, and grits. He liked them all, and it was fun to listen to my wife try to describe to him exactly what a grit is. In the end, neither of us knew, so we moved on. He once again was an amazing baby, well behaved and self-entertaining.

We ultimately had to leave when he fell asleep on the table. It started with him resting his chin on the table and then his eyes started to droop. I guess we cut into his nap time. After that, we took a drive to give him time for a nap.