A Covid-19 Thanksgiving

With the pandemic showing an aggressive upswing, we still don’t feel comfortable being around people. After finding out that everyone in my family was facing a similar problem of being alone for Thanksgiving, my wife and I decided to host a virtual, video-conferenced dinner. So, we coordinated everyone’s schedules, sent them the invite, cooked a modest meal for two and a half, and logged on.

One by one, the little video boxes popped up as people joined the meeting. Everyone had something different on the menu, some didn’t eat at all. But we were all “together” for the holiday, and that was something.

My older brother, the least concerned about the coronavirus, shared stories and pictures about his recent trip to Yellowstone and Colorado for his 20th anniversary. My younger brother and his wife shared stories about their son, Declan, who also made his presence known during the dinner by showing everyone what he was eating before every bite full. But Troy was the star of the show. From the first moment that he saw all of these “new” people at the dinner table, he was on stage. First, he was curiously watching and talking to each person. Then, he was showing off his words and sound effects. Then, he wanted down, so he could randomly grab items out of the kitchen drawers and show them to the camera. At one point, he was sitting on the table, instructing everyone in the proper use of an oven mitt!

It wasn’t perfect, no hugs or handshakes, but it was close to a normal Thanksgiving with family. It was the first time we’d all been together like that in years. And I’m thankful that we had the time with each other.

And then slowly, slowly the food was all eaten and people started to log off, until all that was left was the three of us and a table full of dirty dishes. And the reality of the coronavirus, and being isolated, which had been forgotten for a couple hours, came crashing back in. And we went back to our “normal” life.

The Broken Candle Holder

Today, Troy opened the cabinet and found one of my photo albums from college. It had pictures in it that I had taken with my roommate...flowers, sites around the city, that sort of thing. In other words, one of a kind pictures that I could never get back again.

Troy pulled it out and started leafing through it. At first, he was just looking at the pictures, so I didn’t think anything of it. But then for some unknown reason, he started crushing them up. I was outraged. But then I had to remember that he’s only a baby. He doesn’t really understand. He just likes the crinkly sound it makes.

I have a vivid recollection of a time when I was about eleven. I was over at my grandmother’s house with my cousins, playing in her back room. We made up a game of taking pecans and trying to throw them into this bowl that she had on a bookshelf. One of my throws went errant, and the pecan ended up hitting a glass candle holder instead. The glass shattered into several pieces, and a feeling of dread immediately shot through my body. I had one of two options. I could hide it from her and hope she didn’t notice, or I could confess and take the punishment. Despite every fiber of my being crying out that I was a fool, I took the broken pieces in my hands and took them to my grandmother.

I wish this story had a happy ending, where my grandmother realized it was an accident, and that I was just a a child, and forgave me. That she comforted me, knowing the guilt and anxiety that I was feeling. That she reassured me that it was only “stuff,” and that it could be replaced. None of that happened. She coldly, angrily, took the shattered pieces and quietly said, “This was my mother’s candle holder. It was over a hundred years old. It can never be replaced.”

The emptiness I felt inside me has never left me. I could not have felt worse than I did at that moment. And it was made worse by the cold, unforgiving way that my grandmother shut me out. She wouldn’t even talk to me for the rest of the day.

So, whenever I find myself in one of those moments where Troy has destroyed something that can’t be replaced, I remember that candle holder. I remember how I felt, and how my grandmother made me feel. I remember wanting her forgiveness and comfort. I remember not getting it, and it brings me peace. I don’t want Troy to feel the way I did that day. It is only “stuff” after all, and he’s only a baby. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing. He’s not trying to hurt me.

So, I take a couple of minutes to breathe (I’m human after all), but then I find him and hug him. I let him know that things are okay between us. I let him know that I still love him. Our relationship is more important to me than “stuff.”

The Baby Ruth

Tonight started out like any other. Troy came home from daycare with my wife, I ran him a bath to wash off the day, and my wife brought him in and plopped him into the tub. Then something happened that had never happened before. Troy squatted down in the soapy water and started grunting. At first, I thought he was pooping, but nothing came out. So, I assumed he was just making his usual sound effects to entertain himself.

I was wrong...very wrong.

When I went to start soaping him up, I saw it. It floated out from under the soap bubbles. What looked to be a Baby Ruth candy bar! And then it broke into two, heading off in opposite directions. I fished them out, and then I lost it. I washed my hands three times, wiped them down with Clorox wipes, sprayed them with Lysol disinfectant, and set them on fire!

The entire time my wife was gasping for breath as she laughed herself into a lather.

Apple

My wife pulled an apple out of the refrigerator today to put it in her lunch. When Troy saw it, he pointed at it and said, “ap...ple.” Clear as day. We’re not sure where he learned it, because we haven’t really been working on fruit with him, but he's progress so fast now. It's truly amazing.

Hot Air

I had to take Troy to the doctor today because he’s been accosted by a mosquito bent on his destruction. He has bites all over his legs, and they’ve swelled to the size of silver dollars. We were concerned, so we called the doctor, and he said to bring Troy in.

While we were in the waiting room...waiting, because what else would you do in a waiting room...Troy noticed a picture of several hot air balloons on the wall across from us. He stood up on my lap, pointed right at the picture, and said, “ball...oon!” Over and over. I was so proud of him. What a big word to master!

Car Seat

So, the time finally came when we had to turn Troy's car seat around. Poor little guy has gotten so tall that his legs were crammed so hard against the backseat that he was smelling his knees the whole time! We know that it's recommended to keep them rear-facing until they're at least two-years old, but it's just not feasible with his size. We waited as long as we could, and at least it's only three months early.

Troy didn't know what to think the first time I was putting him in it the "wrong" way. Despite the discomfort, he is a creature of habit after all, and this was not his normal routine. My wife said that he enjoyed being able to finally look around and see things, so maybe that will make it worth it.

Pants are Optional

Troy was watching TV with me tonight, standing in front of the couch, leaning back against me as I wrapped my arms around him and breathed in the "boyish" scent of his hair. When all of a sudden, he extricated himself from my embrace, walked to the middle of the room, and pulled his pants down. He then stood there like that, pants around his ankles, watching TV. My wife started laughing and said, “That’s your son!” I asked her why she'd say that, and she replied, “Because pants are optional.”

Hard to argue with that logic!

Trade

After Troy got up from his nap today, he came into the kitchen and saw me chopping up some cheese cubes. He pointed at the cheese and asked, “dah?” Which roughly translates to “can I have a cheese please?” I told him that I’d trade him a cube of cheese for the pacifier hanging out of his mouth. He pulled the pacifier out, looked at it, looked at the piece of cheese in my outstretched hand, and looked back at the pacifier. I imagine one of two things was running through his brain. Either he was trying to determine if that piece of cheese was worth giving up his pacifier for, or he was doing a calculation on if he should try to negotiate for two or three cubes instead.

In the end, he traded it for one cube, probably figuring that I was a tough negotiator and that he’d never be able to persuade me to up the offer. Or figuring that I’m putty and would eventually give him the entire pile of cubes if he looked at me cutely enough...which I did.

Sesquipedalian - Part 4

Troy has mastered quite a few new sounds and gestures.

When he sees a snake, he will hiss out a "ssssss."

For a giraffe, he brings his hand up to "nibble" on his hair. I depict a giraffe by stretching my arm straight up in the air with my hand turned as a face. Ever so slowly, I'll bring it down and pretend that it's eating my hair, like a real giraffe pulling leaves off a tree.  So, now Troy does the same thing.

My wife got him a new book that has pictures of birds in it. There's a pigeon on one page, and when he sees it, he now coos. It's a very realistic sounding pigeon.

In that same book, there is a woodpecker. When he got to this picture, he looked up at me expectantly, and I froze. Reminiscent of the fish long ago, I had no idea what sound a woodpecker makes. So, in a moment of genius, I reached over and started knocking on the table. Troy immediately loved this gesture and mimicked my motion. Now, if you even say woodpecker to him, he'll start knocking on something.

The cow gets a very loud, deep, gravely, "maaahhh" sound. It's not bad as far as cows go. Probably spot on for a calf actually.

The sheep gets a simple "baaa" before quickly moving on.

The lobster and crab gets him making a claw with him hand and opening and closing his fingers like pincers.

He can identify his footwear as a "shoooo." It's cute, because he struggles a bit with the "sh" sound, so it comes out almost like "swhoooo."

He can also point to eyes, ears, noses, and mouths and correctly name them.

And whenever he picks up one of our phones now, he'll lift it to his ear and say, "Hilo."

Did I Get It?

Whenever I get done feeding Troy, I always wet a paper towel and clean off the residue around his mouth. He likes to flop his head back and forth to make it more difficult on me, so I have to really look at him to make sure I get it all cleaned off. To make it more fun for both of us, I started to ask him, “Did I get it?” He’ll look at me and smile, then he gives me a kiss on the lips. It’s become our little thing, and I love the affection from him.

Little Giant

So, Troy finally broke the three-foot height barrier! He grew another half an inch, and he’s now 36.25 inches tall. This spurt in the last month keeps him in the 99+ percentile. Unfortunately, he hasn’t gained any weight though, so he’s getting “skinnier” and “skinnier.” He’s been holding a steady 32 pounds and 4 ounces for a while now. He doesn’t really look skinnier, so I can only imagine that he’s getting hollower on the inside.

Autumn Leaves

It’s Fall. And with the Fall comes leaves dropping like rain from the trees. And with leaves comes the inevitability of spending hours raking. And with raking comes piles and piles of aforementioned leaves. And with piles of leaves comes a baby who insists on running through the piles, dragging his little feet and scattering your “captured” leaves to the four winds! Over, and over, and over again. 

I got so tired of raking the same leaves up that I gave him the rake and made him do it. He did too. Then, he promptly ran through them and scattered them again.

Mine...All Mine...Tee, Hee!

After the difficulties that we were having with Troy complaining and fighting us every time we tried to change his diaper, I mentioned it to CC and his wife. His wife sent me a link to a “mommy” website that had some suggestions. They mostly centered around making the experience fun. Not rushing through it, but taking the time to interact with your child before and during. So, I decided to try it. Before changing Troy’s diaper, I tickle him or kiss on him while he’s laying in the changing table. Once I get him laughing, then he’s perfectly fine with me changing his diaper. He doesn’t fight me at all. Who knew something so simple could have such a huge impact?! I guess he just wanted me to play with him instead of fighting with him.

The Little Radish Strikes Again!

Today, I was working on building a little playbox for Troy along the side of the house. We have a little barren patch over there, so I thought it would be fun for him to have a place where he could dig and play that didn't involve tearing up the grass and dirt that I wanted to remain put. So, I built a box, and I filled it with garden soil. That way if he throws it out into the grass, it will actually be helpful. And if he gets tired of playing in it, then we can always plant some plants in it. Win-Win-Win.

Of course, Troy felt the need to "help" by attempting to carry tools and supplies for me. He also decided that it would be fun to climb over the sides of the box WHILE I was trying to screw them together. But it was fun to have him be involved and to see him already enjoying the playbox.

At the same time, my wife was hosing down a gigantic tarp that we had used under the pool. She had it hanging on the fence and was shooting it with the water hose to clean of the dirt and algae that had accumulated on it. Troy was running back and forth between us, so he could be in all the action at once. He would stand next to her, looking at the tarp, and every once in a while, he'd point at some spot and say, "eh?" Which I believe was his way of telling her that she missed a spot. I'm telling you, he's destined for managment!

Shoooo!

My wife was out planting some new plants in her pots, and Troy was keeping her company. True to his nature, he was getting into everything and exploring every inch of the yard. At one point, he headed around the corner of the house where we have the hose. Because the grass won’t grow there, the bare dirt tends to get muddy when my wife is using the hose, so we put stones down to walk on.

Troy suddenly came around the house, crying to my wife, and she asked him what was wrong. He said, “my shooo!” Stunned, she asked to clarify, “Did you say ‘my shoe’?” And he repeated it, “my shooo!” So, she said, “Show me.” And Troy sped off around the house and pointed at a gap between the walking stones where his little gray shoe was indeed wedged between them.

I Love You

Tonight, Troy, my wife, and I were sitting on the couch, enjoying some rare television vegetation. During one of the stupid commercial breaks that you’re forced to endure to watch television on Amazon Prime, I turned to Troy, and I said, “I love you.” Now, this in and of itself is not uncommon, because I’ve told him that I love him every single day of his life. What made tonight special is that without even taking his eyes off the television, Troy smiled at me and said, “I love you.”

My wife and I both stopped and stared at him with our mouths hanging open. Then, in unison, we both started squealing with joy and clapping and praising him. We both tried to get him to say it again, but he wouldn’t. That was it, just that one time. But that was enough to lift my heart to soar like an eagle.

I had just told my wife a week ago that I imagined it being the greatest feeling in the world to hear my son tell me he loved me for the first time. And I was right! I’m sure it will, but at this point, it’s hard to imagine anything else topping this. What an amazing way to end the day.

Night on the Farm

Just to change things up, we decided to take Troy over to our friend's farm tonight. We haven't been over there since April, which was when Troy was still pretty unsteady on his feet. But he loves animals so much that it's nice to see his reaction when he gets to see his books come to life. Our friend has ducks, chickens, a cow, and some donkeys. So, Troy has a variety of things to chase and interact with. The ducks and the cow are pretty skittish, but the chickens and donkeys will come right up to him. Troy is a lot faster and more nimble now too, so he makes a better show of keeping up with the chickens. Although to be fair, the chickens did their fair share of chasing Troy as well.

The donkeys will actually eat animal crackers out of his hand, but we have to be careful that they don't get a finger along with it! He thinks their lips tickle, and he'll giggle when they brush over his hand. When he was done feeding our friend's donkeys, then he ran across the yard to the neighbor's fence, pulled up grass, and fed it to the donkeys next door. They happily obliged, chomping every offering he made. By the time I finally drug him away, we had cleared all of the tall grass along the fence line!

The Little Radish

One of the recliner sections detached itself from the rest of the couch today, so my wife and I had to try to hook it back on. This is not an easy prospect, as it requires one person to lay on the floor and try to align the hook, while the other person tries to lift and lower the recliner.

So, I was laying on the floor behind the recliner, lining up the hook, while my wife maneuvered the recliner in place. Suddenly, my wife started laughing because apparently Troy saw me on the floor, went around to the front of the recliner, and laid down on the floor just like I was doing. He even looked underneath it just like me.

They have a saying in Greece, "To rapanáki sti mési tou xáous," which translates to "the little radish in the midst of the chaos." It is used when you have someone that insists on getting involved and sticking their nose in things when they have no business doing so or when they bring no applicable skills to the table.

Apparently, when my father-in-law sees pictures of Troy curiously inserting himself into the middle of everything, he uses this phrase; but instead of the little radish, he calls Troy the little fart, which is funny because he used to call my wife the little turd. Seems apt.