Καληνυχτα

I had my men’s Bible fellowship group tonight. The discussion ran long, so I didn’t get home until right after Troy had gone to bed. Fortunately for me, he was still awake. You see, we have a nighttime routine that we both look forward to, and I was afraid that I was going to miss it. We do this routine no matter what, even if we’ve had a bad night, I’ll take a few minutes to breathe and then go back in there to him. I don’t want us to go to bed angry with each other.

Anyway, I came into the room, and he whispered, “Hey, dada.” So, I whispered back, “Hey, bud.” Then, as I moved toward his bed, he reached his little arms up to me. I bent over and engulfed him in a hug, as he wrapped his arms tightly around my neck. We stayed like that for a few moments, just enjoying the comfort of each other’s embrace. Then, he whispered, “Dada’s home.” I whispered back, “Yeah. I love you.” He answered with, “I love you too.”

I held him for a few moments longer, not that he seemed to want to let go either. Then, I rubbed his back and whispered, “Night, night, bud. I hope you have sweet dreams.” And he whispered back, “Night, night, dada.” I reluctantly let him go, and he wrapped his little arms around his pillow and rolled over to get comfortable.

This is such an important part of my day, and I’m so thankful that I didn’t miss it. I love that moment and the soft, gentle way that he whispers to me. It’s so intimate and real. And I love that we both crave it, even if things haven’t been great between us. It reassures us that things are going to be okay, and no matter what our love for each other is unconditional. Troy is an amazing gift, and all true gifts come down from the Father above.

The Catepillar

I do this thing that Troy calls “the caterpillar,” but is probably more accurately like an inch worm. I sit on the floor with my legs stretched out in front of me. Then, I raise my knees up into a v-shape while pulling my butt forward. And then I stretch my legs out in front of me, and I do it all over again. Troy likes to sit on my lap while I do it, navigating the caterpillar by telling me which way to go. It’s fun for him, but it’s an exhausting workout for me.

Tonight, we were slow-crawling around the upstairs when all of a sudden, Troy told me to stop. We had encountered some of the balls from his ball pit, and he slid off my lap and proceeded to clear the way by throwing the balls left and right. Satisfied that we could proceed once more, he climbed back onto my lap, pointed his little arm forward, and he exclaimed, “Let’s do this!” I burst out laughing, as I slowly shifted the caterpillar into gear.

Take It Like a Baby!

Troy does an impressive job of protecting his belly whenever I try to kiss or tickle it. Not only does he move his hands down to block me, but he also lifts his knees up as well. I’m constantly trying to pry apart his “jaws of death” to get even the smallest opening to exploit. And even though I’m stronger, he has a tactical advantage by having four limbs to two. As I slowly start to make progress and he feels his advantage slipping, Troy starts squealing with laughter, already anticipating the tickling headed his way. I’ll tell him, “Just move your arms and take it like a baby.” Which usually only makes him fight harder.

Tonight, we were wrestling upstairs, and I was intermittently blowing “farts” on his back and sides. Every time I did, he would erupt in a fit of laughter. Seizing an opportunity, I flipped him over, attempting to unleash my spitting flatulence on his stomach. He immediately deployed the jaws of death, closing ranks with both his arms and legs. As I started to pry his arms apart, I said, “Move your arms…” And Troy responded, “…and take it like a baby!” I paused and then started laughing. “Well, yes, actually.”

Fashionista

We’ve been trying to let Troy be more involved in decisions that affect him. So if it’s a harmless decision, like wardrobe choices or what to watch on TV, then we’ll ask his opinion and give him a vote. Unfortunately, the TV choice usually ends up in us watching the same thing we’ve seen a hundred times. But the wardrobe choice can be interesting.

 

Dada: What shirt do you want to wear?

Troy: The T-Rex shirt.

Dada: Which T-Rex shirt, because you have three of them?

Troy: THE T-Rex shirt!

Dada: Ohhh…kay. Are you sure? I mean, we’re doing water things today, so how about a shark?

Troy: Oh my gosh! No, T-Rex!

Dada: Fine! I’ll get THE T-Rex shirt, you little fashionista!

Baby Paparazzi

Troy does not like to have his picture taken now. I think I took so many pictures of him in the last two years, that he’s just sort of done with it. If he sees me pull out the camera, he’ll roll his eyes and then turn his back to me. He goes out of his way to block me, and if he can’t, then he will get up and walk away.

I’m not deterred, though. I still want to capture the moments of his life. I just have to be more strategic about it. Sometimes I feel like the paparazzi stalking him, hiding out in bushes or slithering around the corner of the counter. I also found that I can stuff myself completely into the cushions of the couch and go undetected. All you can see is the phone slide up as I snap the picture and silently slide the phone down again, sort of like a periscope on a submarine.

Dishes Tetris

We typically wash Troy’s spoons, pacifiers, Sippy Cups, etc. by hand. Add to that that we also wash knives, Yeti tumblers, straws, pans, and other things that might be damaged in the dishwasher, and you can easily get a colorful and varied array of items to put on the drying mat. I have found that trying to arrange them all has become like playing a game of Dishes Tetris, so that every space is filled and nothing is hanging off the side of the mat.

My wife will simply get another dish towel out and chaotically toss things haphazardly between the drying mat and the towel. But I rise up to the challenge of getting everything to fit on the drying mat alone by maximizing space. As an added test, I also try not to move something after it’s been placed. So, it can get interesting to fit things in around other things not knowing if you’ll have the right-sized things later on to fill the gaps.

Dinosaur Adventure

I have been missing something in my life for a long time now, but I could never quite define it or put it into words. All I know is that I am discontent with my life. There’s a longing calling to me to to do something, explore something, discover something; like I was made for so much more, and I’m not living to my fullest potential. I need an adventure.

Every day, I feel stuck in a rut, plodding along through a monotonous, repetitive routine. I get up and do the same things every day, and then I go to sleep, only to get up the next day and do it all over again. I have nothing to look forward to, nothing that stirs my heart. In a word, I’m bored.

Some may say that I’m going through some sort of mid-life crisis, and maybe they’re right. But I’m not looking to buy a sports car or take on a mistress. I just want to enjoy my life and get the most out of it. Time is such a precious commodity, that it seems a waste to just pass through it in a blur, dead inside.

I find myself inventing adventures, even small ones, just to have a momentary blip in the routine. I think people believe that I’m obsessed with buying dinosaurs to spoil my son, but that’s not it. Sure he enjoys them when I get them, but it’s really about the journey. It’s like a treasure hunt to track down a store that has a new one or a different one. Last year when I started all of this, I took days off work to drive all over the city to track down dinosaurs, and I never felt more alive and happy. It’s was just me and God; shopping, searching, getting out there, and living. I took lunches with me, and I’d eat in store parking lots, just enjoying the weather and the people. I looked forward to those days off.

A year and a half ago when Troy was at his previous daycare, before the pandemic, I would pick him up after work. I’d strap him into his car seat, give him a snack, and off we’d go on an adventure. We didn’t have a destination, we just drove. We’d pick different roads and directions, turning down interesting-looking drives and looking for new “unexplored” locations. Troy would look contentedly out the window, enjoying it as much as I did. I think we both looked forward to those drives; the freedom to explore and discover…the freedom to be alive. But sadly Troy had to change daycares, and he was no longer close enough for me to go pick up after work. So, I lost my buddy and my reason to explore. I tried a few times alone, but it was never the same after that.

But that need, that longing never went away. I just don’t have a way to satisfy the need now. I’m restless, like a caged lion, pacing back and forth in front of the bars. I remember what freedom felt like, I can see it, almost taste it, but I can’t get to it. I’m stuck, and nobody seems to understand that I feel like I’m slowly dying inside. I’m waiting to start living life, sometime in the future. Hopefully sometime soon.

Divo...

I was playing Troy a video of me singing. He was watching the video intently, so I asked him what he thought. He looked me straight in the eyes, and he said, “Well, there’s no Troy in it.” I couldn’t help but laugh. It was true. There was no Troy in it. I guess it would have been better if there had been. I’ll know the next time.

Just What I Needed

I was having a bad day today, mostly I was depressed about my job and feeling like my life is on autopilot. I get up every day, and I do pretty much the exact same routine. It’s hard to be excited or interested when you’re just walking in the same rut you walked in yesterday. I don’t look forward to anything anymore. I’m bored. I want some adventure in my life. Something challenging and fun to breathe new life back into my existence.

So, I was laying on the couch with my eyes closed feeling lethargic with depression and sadness. And Troy came into the room, saw me, and immediately knew something was wrong. So, he did the only thing a two-year old could do, he tried to fix it.

He handed me all of his favorite dinosaurs; his Mosasaurus, his T-Rex, and his Indominus Rex. When that didn’t work, he climbed on the couch, sprawled his little body out to its entire length on top of mine, gave me a hug, and just laid there to keep me company. After a few minutes, he again checked on me. I have to admit that the hug definitely helped, but I was in my funk pretty deep, so he resorted to one last desperate measure. He slid off the couch, went and got his dinosaur book, brought it back, climbed up on top of me again, and sat on my chest showing me the dinosaur pictures.

He’s such a perceptive and sweet boy. It doesn’t matter how much he may act like a turd, because then he’ll have a night like this, and you know the willful disobedience is all for show. As long as I’m happy, he feels like he can push me. But if I’m sad, then he feels like he needs to fix it. He’s such an amazing two-year old.

By Any Other Name...

Troy has started to call me by my first name. I’m not sure what prompted this, but he must have heard my wife call me that, and so he thought it would be fun too. It’s not. It irritates me to no end. At first I would try to correct him, telling him that I’m “Dada.” Now, I refuse to acknowledge and answer him.

I know he doesn’t truly understand, but I find it disrespectful. And the weird thing is that I’m the only person that he does that to. He still calls my wife “Mama,” and his grandmothers “Yiayia” and “Gammy.” He still calls my brothers “Uncle Ka” and “Uncle Tis.” It’s only me. I don’t know why I’m always singled out by Troy to receive the worst treatment. If someone is going to get slapped, kicked, pushed, told to walk away, or called by his name instead of a loving moniker; it’s going to be me. I don’t know if I’m targeted or just “lucky,” but it hurts either way.

100 Bruises

If you’re going to rough house with your son, then one of the things you should expect to get are bruises. And I’m even more susceptible than most people to get them. Some days I feel like my entire body is a bruise, because it’s so sore.

I estimate that I’ve had at least a hundred bruises directly caused by Troy. Whether that’s getting kneed in the ribs, kicked in the arm, bitten by a dinosaur, beaten with an inflatable Triceratops, or popped by a wayward elbow; it usually always ends up a dark green bruise.

On the other hand, Troy has had his fair share of bruises too. I don’t think I remember ever seeing his little legs without a single bruise on them. He even came out with a bruise when the doctor had to forcibly grab him by his ankle and yank him out of the womb.

I’ve heard of a death by a thousand cuts, but I’ve never heard of death by a thousand bruises. At my current pace, and taking into account the upward curving trajectory of the frequency of getting hurt, I should be there by next April or May. Faced with possibly only eight more months, I’m not sure what I’ll do with my remaining life. That’s a lie, of course I do! I’m going to go tackle Troy, cover him in kisses, and prepare for another round with the Triceratops.

Hawaiian Falls

Some friends of ours invited us to the Hawaiian Falls Water Park near Roanoke today. They had some guest passes that were going to expire in a few weeks, so they asked if we’d like to join them for a day of water and sun. Troy loves the water, so we thought he might enjoy it.

It’s not a huge water park, but it’s still pretty good size, definitely big enough for Troy. They had a good setup too, with slides and stuff specifically for smaller kids, while still having the bigger slides for bigger kids and adults. They also had a wave pool, lazy river, and obstacle course.

Troy was not a big fan of the wave pool. When the first wave hit us, and the water went over his head, he was sputtering and gasping. He clung to me like his life depended on it, even though the water was only like two feet deep, and he could technically stand. He didn’t let go until the waves stopped. On the other hand, he loved the lazy river. I sat down in an intertube, and he sat on my lap. We floated around the windy, twisty passageway, occasionally getting shot with water by frog and turtle statues watching from the sides. I’m not if it was the speed, the excitement of getting shot with water from the frog, or the connection with me; but I couldn’t get him off of the river. Round and round we’d go, and when wed get to the end, he’d say, “Go again!”

We managed to get him to go down a few of the smaller slides, mostly by having someone slide with him. I think he’d have been more interested if he’d had another kid to play with, but the son of our friends who’s five wanted to do the bigger slides instead. Troy kept trying to go with him to do the bigger slides, but I wouldn’t let him. Even though technically he was tall enough, barely, he wouldn’t have wanted to ride them alone, and for safety reasons, you couldn’t ride them together. He didn’t like that, and I couldn’t really explain it to him.

The other issue with the slides was that they had these two giant pineapple cups that would fill up with water. When they got full, they’d tip over and splash everything with water. The amount of water and the randomness of the event scared Troy, so he was timid to want to stay anywhere near them. Seeing that he wasn’t really enjoying himself, we moved on.

Next to the lazy river there was a giant mushroom with water pouring out of the top of it. The water cascaded down, creating a waterfall curtain all the way around the mushroom. At first Troy didn’t want to go near it. But after I picked him up and promised to walk through it with him, he agreed. We ran through it really fast and stood inside the falling water. To my surprise, Troy was laughing. I asked him if he wanted to go again, and with a huge smile on his face, he said, “Yeah!” So, we went in and out of the mushroom several times, getting thoroughly drenched in the process.

The only other thing that he really liked was a small two-foot high slide that looked like a shark. He could climb up the back and slide out of its mouth. He did this over and over and over again.

By this point it was getting into early afternoon. Troy was already an hour past his nap time. Not wanting to push our luck, we decided to leave, and that’s when the ballistic meltdown occurred. Troy didn’t want to leave. Coupled with his tiredness, he went into full on fit mode. We had to drag him kicking and screaming to the car. And once he got there, he passed out almost immediately. Unfortunately, the car ride only lasted about 30 minutes. When we got home to take him out, he woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. I guess we’ll have to see how this will play out now.