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Happy Mother’s Day from the Fatherhood dad
HOW I'M LIKE MY FATHER
As Sunday is the day we honor Mothers, I want to pass along my wish that all of you moms will have a very happy and blessed day.
This year is the first that my mom has actually been a grandmother. Last year at this time, we were claiming Sam as our own, but the legal hassle in Guatemala was reaching a fever pitch and it was really in doubt as to whether he would ever actually be my son. We passed through Mother’s Day and Father’s Day without actually acknowledging what might be our changing roles.
So this year for the first time I got to pick out a “Happy Mother’s Day, Grandma” card for Sam to send to my mom (along with my usual card). It was kind of fun to get to look at the little kid cards in the Mother’s Day aisle again.
After selecting the card I was sure reflected the sentiments of Sam (even though his favorite words at this point are uh-oh, oops, juice, sock and hey: Try to make a Mother’s Day thought out of that!), I took it home for Sam to make his mark on it. I gave him a crayon, and he drew several reasonably straight lines on the inside flap. I’m sure this is his way of saying, “Thanks for always giving me grapes, bananas and lots of hugs, Grandma!”
I stuck both cards inside one envelope and mailed them Monday (with two stamps). Hopefully Mom has received this by now. Otherwise, “Surprise Mom! Look for cards in the mail!”
Again, Happy Mother’s Day to all!
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The full nelson of love
HOW I'M LIKE MY FATHER
Previously, I’ve reported how Sam likes to wrestle with me on the couch. He smiles and laughs and has a great time.
He also does the same thing with Ernie the cat. It’s a little less aggressive. Mostly he just wants to hold Ernie down and lay his head on him. Then he pats Ernie’s head and applauds. It’s a sign of love and is really pretty cute, to everyone but the cat, I’m sure.
Yesterday, I arrived to pick up Sam at daycare as Sam was holding down another kid. Sam is now the oldest in his room but not the biggest. In fact this kid (we’ll call him Joe, but I’m sure his real name is something modern and cool like Landon or Connor or Montana) is bigger than Sam. Joe was crying for help, all the while Sam was patting Joe’s head.
The teachers were completely unconcerned. One even remarked that Sam had Joe “down for the count.” The other teacher laughed.
This tells me that Sam is doing this regularly. Apparently no one gets hurt. He’s just sharing his “full nelson of love” with the rest of the class.
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This post brought to you by the Idaho Potato Council
OK, today’s post is not really sponsored by the potato council. I just needed a headline.
Yesterday, a colleague commented that her son, who is about a year older than Sam, had lost his favorite teddy bear during a particularly turbulent time for their family. She went to buy him a new one during her lunch hour yesterday.
Apparently, this bear was her son’s “lovey,” much like Linus’ blanket in the classic Peanuts comic strip.
This got me thinking that Sam really doesn’t have such an item, at least not one that’s stuffed.
Instead, my son carries around vegetables (hence the headline to this post).
Now, he’s not carrying around actual vegetables. Instead, he has attached himself to Artoo Potatoo, a Star Wars Mr. Potato Head figure.
A couple of weeks ago, commenters mentioned the existence of Star Wars Potato Heads. I went shopping and couldn’t find them, then ordered a bundle of three online. Sam avoids Darth Tater entirely (good taste, son). He plays with the Spud Trooper a little bit. But he really likes Artoo Potatoo.
Partly I think that’s because it’s smaller and easier for his hands to hold than the other two.
But he really doesn’t play with it the way you’re supposed to. Instead he strips off all its attachments, getting it down to the naked potato, and then runs around the house beating things with it.
It’s about the size of a regular baking potato, and it really looks like he’s running around the house with a real vegetable. He even whines when I put the Artoo attachments back on it so we won’t loose them. He just wants the potato.
And lately it’s the first thing he pulls out of the toy box in the morning, the first thing when we get home in the afternoon, and the last thing he’s playing with at night.
Maybe my son is destined to be a chef. But if one day in the distant future criminal activity is accompanied with a calling card of a raw potato left at the site, forget you ever read this blog.
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Here we go again — Teething fun
The brief respite was good. Enjoyable. Relatively calm.
And now the next round is set to begin.
First I noticed the drool and the runny nose. Then I noticed Sam chewing on his fingers, but this time from the back corners of his mouth.
A quick check with my finger revealed a small ridge forming on one side at the back of the gum line and a small pinpoint of toothiness on the other.
The secondary molars are coming! The secondary molars are coming!
Lock your doors and hide your daughters. Let the crying and fussiness begin again.
My mother told me she cried every time I got ready for another tooth. I thought that was funny. But after going through 10 or so of these already, I know she wasn’t joking. Sam has a terrible time getting those teeth through, and his emotions run a wide gamut as he copes with the pain.
This explains why he’s wanting me to hold him more in the last few days, and why he’s been crying again when I get up to cook supper or when I leave him at daycare. He just needs a little extra TLC during these trying teething times.
Fortunately, these are the last four until permanent teeth. Unfortunately, it may take a couple of months to complete the process.
Just when I was getting used to sleeping through the night.
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Avoiding the commode
Here’s a new problem to discuss: Sam has begun washing his hands…in the toilet.
On the one hand, I’m glad he’s washing his hands. On the other, I’m concerned that he’s using the toilet to do it.
So far, I’ve managed to catch him every time and wash off his hands for real afterwards. But I’m sure my luck is going to run out.
I can see why he’s doing it this way. The bowl is on his level, while the sinks are all way higher than he can reach. So he reaches in, wets his hands, rubs them together really good and then leaves the bathroom.
I’m not sure how to stop this behavior. It’s not as simple as keeping the lid closed. Ernie, the cat, gets all his drinking water from the commode and will not drink from a regular water bowl. So, I’ve got to keep the water available for him.
Also, I don’t want to discourage the hand washing while directing the hands to a cleaner source.
Anyone got an idea for the struggling dad?
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So you think you can dance?
If you think you’re a great dancer, you have never seen my son, who at 20 months can do spins around you.
Where he’s picked this up is anybody’s guess.
Last night we were listening to CDs while doing our regular wrestling routine on the couch. Apparently, Sam really likes the music of Kimberly locke, who finished third in season 2 of “American Idol.” We were listening to her second CD, released late last year, and Sam decided to show me all his break dancing moves.
I kid you not. He stood on his head and spun around. He swung his arms around like people who do that wave motion move. He did baby circles. He even tried to do “The Robot.”
All the while he was clapping off and on in a pretty good approximation of the actual beat of the music. I was pretty impressed.
Then he applauded at the end of each song.
He certainly didn’t learn this from me. I didn’t even go to my high school prom, much less dance for fun. Nor do we watch music videos or break dancing shows.
Nevertheless, he’s got it down. I sense reality television in our future.
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Always Coca-Cola
My son has a real thing for Coke cans.
Now, mind you, he’s never actually had any to drink. He just thinks he has.
It works like this. Sam finds the box (the kind that is refrigerator-sized) and pulls out a can. Obviously, it is still sealed. Then he runs around the house holding it, throwing it, beating the floor with it and anything else he can think of. Whatever he’s doing, he adds a Coke and a smile to it.
Periodically, he will stop and tilt his head and the can back, as if he’s drinking. When he straightens his head beck down, he says “AHHHH!”
Refreshing!
Yes, Coke adds life to our house.
Fortunately, the cans have yet to explode under all this abuse. I’m not sure I want to bathe the stickiness of an exploded Coke can off of my son, after cleaning the floors, table, his toys, and whatever else it might cover.
Interestingly, Sam only does this with Coca-Cola cans. We have other soda cans in the house and refrigerator as well, but as far as Sam is concerned, Coke is it.
I can only imagine what will happen when one day he actually drinks the stuff. Assuming he likes it, I may never get him to put the can down.
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Sleep, little one, sleep
Sam was worn out. Why, I’m not sure.
Perhaps it’s because his body is working hard fighting that ear infection. Perhaps he didn’t get a good nap yesterday.
But for whatever reason, he was really cranky last night, couldn’t get any of his toys to work correctly and was more impatient for supper than normal.
Around 7, which is an hour-and-a-half before his normal bed time, he fell asleep on my shoulder while I was trying to watch “American Idol,” for my other blog.
It’s pretty hard to take notes about what the contestants are singing with a 25-pound weight on your shoulder.
I didn’t take him straight to bed because I figured he’d wake up in an hour or so and want to play again.
But Sam didn’t wake up until 6:30 this morning, after nearly 12 hours of sleep. He was happy and energetic this morning, especially after he had a glass (OK, sippy cup) of milk and got changed out of the clothes he was wearing all day yesterday. (He had fallen asleep before I had even thought to change him into his pajamas.)
This morning he trotted into his daycare classroom and pulled some toys off the shelf immediately. I guess he has some playtime to make up.
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The big, big world of pants
My boys is small. I realize that. He will probably always be at the lower end of the bell curve of physical size for his age.
But recently he has grown a little. He has picked up a pound of body weight and three inches of height since he’s been in America, according to measurements taken at his last doctor’s visit.
This means he is beginning to progress to the next size of clothing. He’s been wearing shirts that are size 18 months since he’s been here. Those still fit, although some of the older ones are getting a bit short. I’ve started buying the 24 month/2T variety to get him a bit of extra shirt tail.
I think most of those three inches have come in his upper body, because it is really the shirts that I’ve most noticed becoming short. However, recently, some of his pants are edging closer to being the “high water” variety.
Herein is my problem. He’s been wearing pants sized 12 months. He still has several pants in that size that are the right length or a little short, but which swallow his waist whole. They won’t stay on his body. As he moves into needing the length of 18 month pants, I don’t know how I’m going to get them to stay on his hips.
Many searches have revealed no toddler belts. And drawstrings on toddler pants all seem to be decorative, rather than functional.
Has anyone out there gone through this same battle? If so, what did you do?
Thankfully, we’re approaching shorts season, but there are still times he’ll need full-length pants and I’m at the end of my rope (which I may have to tie around his pants, like Jethro Bodine).
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Making associations, and why I should have been a pharmacist
It’s funny to me how the toddler mind works, trying to associate new knowledge into convenient groups for memory and usage.
Since we visited my parents and Sam got friendly with their dog, he refers to all large animals as “dog.” But since he knew Ernie before then, he doesn’t refer to anything Ernie-sized and smaller as a dog.
Our house is filled with wooden, ceramic and plastic ducks I’ve collected over the years. Sam learned the word “duck,” so now all knickknacks are called “ducks.”
The association game really hit home on Saturday. Sam has had a run of ear infections lately, beginning when we were in Tulsa. He doesn’t get a fever and doesn’t complain of pain. The only outward sign of a problem comes when yellow fluid begins draining from the ear.
It happened again Saturday, so I called his doctor (who was the one on call for the office that weekend, hooray!) and he called in a prescription for antibiotics and one for ear drops for Sam.
When we went to pick them up, I used the drive-through window. Here is where association kicked in. We’ve only used such windows before at fast-food restaurants. Following the meeting at the window and the handing over of a sack, Sam gets a french fry for the road.
Well, he howled all the way home from the pharmacy for his french fry. But all I had was a bottle of antibiotics and a very tiny bottle of ear drops.
Here is why I should have been a pharmacist. Those ear drops, the bottle for which is smaller than the tip of my pinky finger to the first knuckle, cost $120! I believe this to be outrageous. All I can say is they better work!
Because if they don’t, we could have spent that money on a lot of french fries.
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Sam’s first masterpiece
When I was a little boy, I was convinced I would grow up to be an artist. My specialty was making seasonal decorations out of emptied gallon milk jugs. My art career came to a crashing halt when my grandmother put out the “Fourth of July Boy” piece in decoration for Christmas.
That “traumatizing” moment of my childhood makes me want to do whatever I can to encourage my little boy’s artistic endeavors. His first happened at daycare yesterday. You can click on the small image at right to see it full size.
Up to this point, Sam has been interested more in eating crayons than coloring with them. This is especially true at restaurants that give out three crayons with a kids menu.
I bought some of those new toddler Crayolas that are supposed to be easier for toddlers to use and not chew, but Sam just liked to beat the plastic handles together to make noise.
Perhaps now I should dig out the box of crayons I have set back for him and let him draw his heart out. After all, I could be parenting the next Van Gogh.
(You’ve seen the picture. You know what a great talent he is showing at a young age. Am I right?)
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Wrestlemania
Sam is really in to pouncing lately. He likes to climb onto the couch next to me and then jump on my legs, chest, back, head, stomach or other convenient area.
In fact, if I’m not sitting in the right position for how he wants to pounce, he moves me around, dragging my arms and legs until he has me positioned “just so.” If I don’t cooperate, he whines.
Last night, our couch turned into a veritable wrestling ring, with Sam climbing, pouncing, jumping and in general having fun. He was laughing the entire time.
He even stood on the back of the couch a time or two to jump on me, like wrestlers do when they stand on the ropes around the ring.
I kept the fun going by helping him turn somersaults over me and onto other parts of the couch, so he could get ready to pounce again.
All in all we had quite a time. Sam was sweaty, I was worn out, and the cat was looking at us like we’d lost our minds.
Still, Sam cried when I got up to go to the bathroom. He was not ready to stop having wrestling fun.
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Eating popcorn, one kernel at a time
Recently, Sam experienced the popping of popcorn for the first time.
He had eaten popcorn before. He just hadn’t seen it popping. In fact, we ate popcorn together in the sports restaurant of the Mariott Guatemala City before I ever brought him home to America. He also enjoys eating my friend/bowling teammate Lenny’s popcorn on many Monday nights.
But on a recent evening, we pulled out the old air popper and actually watched the corn popping. I think it is more exciting this way than watching a microwave bag expand, even if the resulting corn is a little bland.
At first Sam was not impressed. The thing makes a lot of noise, and it was all sound and no substance. But as the corn started popping and coming out of the shoot, Sam’s eyes grew wide in excitement.
The bowl sitting under the shoot ended up being too small for the amount of corn in the popper, so Sam laughed as popcorn began flying everywhere.
When the time came for eating, Sam had his own small bowl. When he finished it, I encouraged him to get some more out of the big bowl and put in his bowl. He fished out one kernel, put it in his bowl, walked over to his chair, climbed in, sat down, ate the kernel, climbed out, returned to the big bowl and fished out another piece, repeating the same pattern over and over until he had had his fill.
I couldn’t help laughing as my son took one piece at a time. I don’t know what was going through his mind, but it was precious nonetheless.
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Growth, the parental kind
There was once a time when I would have been totally freaked out and embarrassed to have wet pants in public. Apparently, not anymore.
AMF Lake Air Lanes does not have any changing stations in either the men’s or the women’s restrooms. If you ask them about it, they’ll tell you that there is one in the ladies’ room at Westview Lanes across town.
As if that really helps someone holding a baby in need of changing at that very moment.
The first week Sam was in Waco, my mother changed him on a table near the restroom door. We were told in no uncertain terms never to do that again.
A couple of weeks later, I changed Sam in the men’s room sink. That did not prompt an attack from management, but it also wasn’t very convenient.
My new strategy is to change him just before we leave the house on Monday nights and hope it lasts for 2 1/2 hours. Diapers today are very absorbent, after all.
Usually, that works, but last night, toward the end of our final game, I noticed that my pants were wet where Sam had been sitting on my knee. A teammate asked me if I had wet my pants. I took it all in stride.
After all, there wasn’t really anything I could do about it at that point.
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Throw Ernie from the train
A growing interest for Sam is trains, particularly Thomas the Tank Engine and the entire “Thomas and Friends” series from PBS.
Consequently, I got him a Thomas plate/bowl/cup set while we were in Tulsa and my mother has located Thomas and Friends sheet sets for when Sam transitions to a regular bed.
Saturday, Sam and I went to Wal-Mart. I confess this was my attempt to find the Star Wars Mr. Potato Head mentioned on the comments last week. I didn’t find it, although I checked the Star Wars area and the Mr. Potato Head area and all the aisle heads.
What I did find, though, was a large canvas pop up Thomas the Tank Engine. It is about 4 1/2 feet long and about 3 1/2 feet high and has places where you can crawl through it. Sam wanted to play with the box it came in as soon as I picked it up off the shelf, so for $10 I went ahead and got it for him.
As it turns out, no assembly is required. It basically unfolds out of the box. I set it up for him when we got home, but Ernie, our cat, was the first to enter it.
Ernie was quite intrigued. In fact, I’ve found Ernie sleeping in the thing several times since then.
Sam entered moments after Ernie and thought it was great that he finally had Ernie cornered where they could play together to his (Sam’s) heart’s content. Ernie, of course was not amused.
How fast can a cat escape from a canvas train? Faster than you’d imagine.
So they’ve spent the weekend taking turns. Ernie climbs in. Sam finds him there and climbs in. Ernie suddenly flies from the side entrance. It’s pretty good entertainment.
Even if it’s not a potato head.
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Big shoes to fill
This morning, Sam was all about shoes.
First, he was trying to take off his socks, which he calls shoes because he doesn’t quite grasp the difference. I had left his socks on overnight so his feet wouldn’t get cold, but this morning, he wanted nothing to do with them.
Then he found my shoes under the coffeetable. I wear a size 10 1/2 (adult) while Sam wears a size 5 (kids). Yet he was adament about putting his feet into my shoes and trying to walk. His feet barely reach the tongue. When I tried to put the shoes back under the table, he screamed and drug them back out again.
Then he put them on the wrong feet!
He looked like he was wearing clown shoes, but it was so precious!
Finally I took him into his room to get him dressed for the day. He picked up his sandals and brought them to me and said “Shoes.” That was what he wanted to put on first, although we didn’t.
I hope my son isn’t turning into the male version of Imelda Marcos, addicted to shoes. But a little role playing in Dad’s shoes is probably a good thing.
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Sam, I’m your FAH-ther
Recent evidence indicates that Sam will be a “Star Wars” nut, just like his dad.
The Spike TV network ran all six episodes of the “Star Wars” saga during my vacation week in Tulsa. My parents aren’t fans of the series, so I didn’t see much of it while there. But Saturday night, I turned on “The Empire Strikes Back” as Sam and I were eating our dinner.
Sam was absolutely enthralled. He sat next to me on the couch and clapped for the Rebels, but not for Darth Vader. He was also very fond of Yoda.
Sunday night after church, I turned on “Return of the Jedi,” and again Sam showed interest. In fact, he fought harder on going to sleep because he wanted to watch more of the movie.
Now before people chime in that I should only be letting Sam watch educational programming, let me state clearly that mostly what is on in Sam’s presence comes from PBS Kids. Or it involves music. Watching “Star Wars” was a definite anomaly in his world.
But given that I am a “Star Wars” nut, I enjoyed sharing the experience with my son for the first time. When I was a high school teacher, I used “Star Wars” props and puns to help students remember Latin grammar. Many of those toys are still in my teaching kits in the garage, and Sam may well enjoy playing with them.
Some of my students even bought me “Star Wars” memorabilia over the years, including movie posters, action figures, and a “street sign” that says “Star Wars Way.” All of these mementos are on display in my home office.
So I’m glad Sam enjoyed the films, at least this time. It will be a special memory for me, if not for him.
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Props to the Peeps
Are you familiar with Peeps, the marshmallow rabbit-shaped Easter candy?
I hadn’t had one in years, but Mom blogger Paula Blesener brought some to the office yesterday. Being one of the office early birds, I of course got my worm.
These were different fro the old standbys, in that they were cocoa flavored. The regular ones had been yellow, as I remember, and without a special flavor.
It was like eating hot chocolate with marshmallows, without burning your tongue.
I of course had to share one with Sam, so I smuggled a Peep out of the office to take home to him.
After we played in the backyard for a little while yesterday afternoon, I brought him inside for his late afternoon pre-dinner treat.
He was intrigued when he looked at it. Then he nibbled at one ear. An instant smile spread across his face and he said “Oooo!” Within minutes, that Peep could peep no more.
So to the makers of Peeps, I give you your proper due. Adding cocoa was a fabulous idea. The Wades approve.
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Vacation wrap-up
VACATION PHOTOS
I think all in all we had a good vacation in Oklahoma.
Coming home was a different story. Sam screamed on most of the trip coming home and would only quiet down if I rubbed the bottom of his foot while driving. The music and toys that worked so well on the way to Tulsa did not work at all on the return to Waco.
Additionally, we had an adventure when we stopped for food. I stopped in Marietta, Okla., at a Carl’s Jr. fast food restaurant. These are the successors to Hardee’s in Oklahoma. They had no one taking orders at a counter, but instead had two machines for taking automated orders. Not only could I not find a way to cancel condiments that I didn’t want on my sandwich, but it is nearly impossible to work one of those machines while holding a hungry, screaming toddler. Obviously, whoever designed this feature was not a single parent!
Nevertheless, I’m glad to be back home. A week spent in Tulsa always reminds me why I don’t ever want to live there again. The traffic is horrible!
Yesterday, as I returned to work, Sam returned to daycare. He cried at being left again, although I’m told he had a good day once the other kids arrived. Again this morning, he didn’t want to me to leave, but I’m confident he’ll rebound by breakfast time.
Be sure to check out the video below and the photo link above for highlights of our vacation in T-Town.
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Sam The Tenderhearted
While I was visiting my parents, my mother commented on how tenderhearted Sam is. Numerous examples spring to mind.
He wanted to hug their dog. He does this with our cat as well.
Periodically, he just runs up to me, or my parents for that matter, and hugs my leg.
When we got home Saturday night, we didn’t have a lot of food in the house and Sam was too tired to make a trip to the store, so I made him a dinner of canned oranges, peanut butter and crackers, and potato chips. He tried to share his potato chips with the cat, who was staying unusually close to us after being lonely for a week. I noticed the pile of potato chips at Ernie’s feet after it had reached six or seven chips.
Sam has begun to learn how to give kisses. He puts his lip on my cheek and leaves it there until I make a kissing sound.
And finally, he gets very sad-eyed when I have to discipline him (mostly by telling him no in a very stern voice), and then hugs me to make sure we still love each other.
Unfortunately, I’ve been having to tell him not to hit me, or the cat, or my parents a lot recently. I’m pretty sure it’s not mean spirited. He thinks it’s funny, or sometimes it’s just a product of his over-excitement meeting his lack of physical control.
I want to make sure this behavior gets stopped while still encouraging his tender heart.
Any ideas for the struggling Dad?
Oh, and I’ll be compiling vacation pictures and video in the coming days, so keep an eye out for it.
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Playground fun
You all know the common image of kids playing on a playground while the parents sit on the sidelines making sure everything is OK? That was Sam and me yesterday afternoon.
It had rained enough in Tulsa Tuesday and Wednesday to cause some street flooding. Several schools in southeast Tulsa had to cancel for the day because it was impossible to drive up to the buildings. Needless to say, playing outside was going to be a dirty, muddy mess.
So Sam and I went to the Promenade Mall, a shopping mall near my parents’ house. They have an indoor playground with an Old West theme. There is a horse to ride on, a covered wagon with a slide out the back end, a river/waterfall slide, a horseshoe to climb on, and a large blue locomotive to play in. Sam loved it all.
There were several kids playing there, mostly bigger than Sam. Sam carefully waited his turn and played nicely, except one time when he wanted to get on the horse and nearly pushed off the kid that was on it already.
The rules for the playground included taking off the kids’ shoes. While one mother took off her daughter’s shoes, Sam tried to help the girl put them back on. It was all pretty funny.
While we’re here on vacation, workers are installing a fence in my backyard in Waco. I had an old decaying tree removed to open up some space for Sam to have his own playground. My parents and I are looking at different swing sets. The next time they visit me, my Dad and I are going to purchase and put together Sam’s very own playground. The experience yesterday showed me that Sam will have a ball.
Latest comments
Sara needs to get her panties out of a wad. Dogooders have long since controlled how we think, how we play, and what we eat. Go get em Sam.
... read the full comment by Neill | Comment on The full nelson of love Read The full nelson of love
While I don’t find this particularly “cute” what concerns me the most is the the lack of concern from the daycare workers. Others may see Sam being “cute” and “full of love” but what about poor “Joe”?
... read the full comment by Sara | Comment on The full nelson of love Read The full nelson of love
That is so cute! It sounds like Sam is little guy full of love!!! Hopefully, he stays this way. I think the world would be a better place if there were more people like Sam.
... read the full comment by courtney | Comment on The full nelson of love Read The full nelson of love
Hyland’s Teething Tablets were a lifesaver for me when my boys were little (I had two little ones teething at the same time). They were highly effective for me (I tried a couple once and couldn’t feel my mouth for a while) and they dissolve
... read the full comment by Kim | Comment on Here we go again -- Teething fun Read Here we go again -- Teething fun