Dylan,
Mom tells me you slept eleven hours Saturday night. You're a champ.
Dad
Monday, July 31, 2006
Sunday, July 30, 2006
empty
There is an emptiness here at home tonight. It is quiet in a way that feels hollow. I feel the calmness of a void in which time is both fast and slow. Where schedule and routine give way to... nothingness.
It's not that I haven't kept myself busy, not that at all. I puttered about the house this morning before doing an hour and twenty minute run, nearly half of that pushing Liam and Evan (my recompense to Kevin after inviting him on a long run at no notice). I did yard work when I got home, excising some 70% or more of the potato vine (to which I remain allergic) which grows out of control at the corner of the garage. I got a haircut. Shopped at Macy's -- bought a pair of shorts. Went to the bank. Paid bills online. Shopped at Target -- bought another pair of shorts and more baby-proofing supplies. And I tried to shop at Home Depot, but they close at 8pm on Sundays.
It's just never this quiet here anymore. So quiet I could hear when I'd left the hose on outside where I'd watered the hydrangeas. So quiet the rooftop attic fan tricks me into thinking the AC is running. So very quiet that time itself pauses to take notice.
What's missing is a wonderful mother and a beautiful child. A hug and a kiss. A smile and a squeal. My anchors.
Dad
It's not that I haven't kept myself busy, not that at all. I puttered about the house this morning before doing an hour and twenty minute run, nearly half of that pushing Liam and Evan (my recompense to Kevin after inviting him on a long run at no notice). I did yard work when I got home, excising some 70% or more of the potato vine (to which I remain allergic) which grows out of control at the corner of the garage. I got a haircut. Shopped at Macy's -- bought a pair of shorts. Went to the bank. Paid bills online. Shopped at Target -- bought another pair of shorts and more baby-proofing supplies. And I tried to shop at Home Depot, but they close at 8pm on Sundays.
It's just never this quiet here anymore. So quiet I could hear when I'd left the hose on outside where I'd watered the hydrangeas. So quiet the rooftop attic fan tricks me into thinking the AC is running. So very quiet that time itself pauses to take notice.
What's missing is a wonderful mother and a beautiful child. A hug and a kiss. A smile and a squeal. My anchors.
Dad
travel update
Dylan,
Mom says you did well on the plane, so long as you were being entertained. You didn't sleep much or eat much solid food, and while Mom and I were talking on the cell phone from the car I could hear you unravelling in the background, but considering a 90-minute-delayed departure before a 5 hour flight, you've exceeded expectations.
Thanks for being good.
Dad
Mom says you did well on the plane, so long as you were being entertained. You didn't sleep much or eat much solid food, and while Mom and I were talking on the cell phone from the car I could hear you unravelling in the background, but considering a 90-minute-delayed departure before a 5 hour flight, you've exceeded expectations.
Thanks for being good.
Dad
Friday, July 28, 2006
peacemaker
Dylan,
Other parents have told me stories about how hard it is to get a kid off pacifiers, like they're some baby version of heroin. I knew from the first time that Mom wasn't around and I stuck my pinky finger in your mouth in a desperate move to stem the crying, that I was making a deal with the devil- a compromise for which I would surely pay dearly. But it worked, so shortly thereafter I went to Long's and bought your first official pacifier.
You used a pacifier every night to go to sleep and for most car rides in the carseat. Many, many were the times in those first six months that we went to calm you down in the middle of the night and had to hunt blindly around the crib mattress or even on the floor for your paci before getting you back to sleep.
Surprisingly- no, make that amazingly -a couple weeks ago you stopped taking the pacifier at night. Then I realized that you really weren't using it for the car rides anymore either. I'm guessing it had something to do with our change to your nighttime ritual wherein we (read: mom) started nursing you after the bath. It not only knocks you cold with mind-boggling effectiveness, but you started refusing the pacifier when you were done. We were afraid at first that it would mean you'd wake up without it waiting in your mouth, but you don't seem to miss it.
You've fully weened yourself off the pacifier with practically no involvement on our part. If I'd only known making a deal with the devil was this easy...
Dad
Other parents have told me stories about how hard it is to get a kid off pacifiers, like they're some baby version of heroin. I knew from the first time that Mom wasn't around and I stuck my pinky finger in your mouth in a desperate move to stem the crying, that I was making a deal with the devil- a compromise for which I would surely pay dearly. But it worked, so shortly thereafter I went to Long's and bought your first official pacifier.
You used a pacifier every night to go to sleep and for most car rides in the carseat. Many, many were the times in those first six months that we went to calm you down in the middle of the night and had to hunt blindly around the crib mattress or even on the floor for your paci before getting you back to sleep.
Surprisingly- no, make that amazingly -a couple weeks ago you stopped taking the pacifier at night. Then I realized that you really weren't using it for the car rides anymore either. I'm guessing it had something to do with our change to your nighttime ritual wherein we (read: mom) started nursing you after the bath. It not only knocks you cold with mind-boggling effectiveness, but you started refusing the pacifier when you were done. We were afraid at first that it would mean you'd wake up without it waiting in your mouth, but you don't seem to miss it.
You've fully weened yourself off the pacifier with practically no involvement on our part. If I'd only known making a deal with the devil was this easy...
Dad
Thursday, July 27, 2006
packing
Dylan,
Tomorrow morning you leave for your first vacation, including your first plane ride, first interstate travel, and first official family reunion. It'll also be the first time you've been without your daddy for a whole week, until I join you for two weeks in the middle of your trip.
Mom has been packing frantically for at least a week. It takes a lot to plan for a month in Maine with a 9-month old, but she's doing a great job and you'll have everything you need and more.
Be good for mommy.
Dad
Tomorrow morning you leave for your first vacation, including your first plane ride, first interstate travel, and first official family reunion. It'll also be the first time you've been without your daddy for a whole week, until I join you for two weeks in the middle of your trip.
Mom has been packing frantically for at least a week. It takes a lot to plan for a month in Maine with a 9-month old, but she's doing a great job and you'll have everything you need and more.
Be good for mommy.
Dad
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Saturday, July 22, 2006
drawers
Dylan,
You seem to enjoy grabbing drawer handles of all kinds. You do it not for the practical value it may offer, but for the pure joy of grabbing on to them. It's like art. You see the inherent value of hand and handle coming together for no other purpose than to unite, and your jubilant smile each time is a celebration in recognition of the event.
Just wait till you learn that's the tupperware drawer you're pulling on.
Dad
You seem to enjoy grabbing drawer handles of all kinds. You do it not for the practical value it may offer, but for the pure joy of grabbing on to them. It's like art. You see the inherent value of hand and handle coming together for no other purpose than to unite, and your jubilant smile each time is a celebration in recognition of the event.
Just wait till you learn that's the tupperware drawer you're pulling on.
Dad
range
Dylan,
A wise man taught me to be aware of my "circle of influence". Since then I have always considered this lesson in the context of my career.
Your circle of influence is expanding rapidly, but not so much in terms of the numbers or stature of people you can affect, but by your own physical mobility and its effects on time and space.
You now have the run of the house. By that I mean you can take yourself from any point in the house to any other point (provided the doors are open a crack). Today I watched you crawl right out of your room, down the hall, into the dining room (where you paused to chew on a doorstop), and on to the kitchen. You went right to the only full stack of drawers in the kitchen cabinets and since you couldn't even see them until you got around the fridge, I think you had them in mind from the start.
Dad
A wise man taught me to be aware of my "circle of influence". Since then I have always considered this lesson in the context of my career.
Your circle of influence is expanding rapidly, but not so much in terms of the numbers or stature of people you can affect, but by your own physical mobility and its effects on time and space.
You now have the run of the house. By that I mean you can take yourself from any point in the house to any other point (provided the doors are open a crack). Today I watched you crawl right out of your room, down the hall, into the dining room (where you paused to chew on a doorstop), and on to the kitchen. You went right to the only full stack of drawers in the kitchen cabinets and since you couldn't even see them until you got around the fridge, I think you had them in mind from the start.
Dad
Thursday, July 20, 2006
wear and tear
D,
You've got big red patches on your knees from all the crawling around you're doing on our hardwood floors.
Dad
You've got big red patches on your knees from all the crawling around you're doing on our hardwood floors.
Dad
size-wise
The Boy had a check-up yesterday and was determined to be exactly average. His height, weight, and head circ. were all at the 50th %ile for a 9-month old. Of course, he was only 8 mos + 12 days old, so we'll see what the little fella can do with the next two and a half weeks to set himself apart.
Oh yeah, he's just under 20 lbs (shocking, I know), just over 28 inches, and his head is... well, round and beautiful.
Dad
Oh yeah, he's just under 20 lbs (shocking, I know), just over 28 inches, and his head is... well, round and beautiful.
Dad
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
nicknames
Dylan,
I'm not sure what we'll be calling you by the time you're capable of reading this post, but I want you to understand that there are at least two important rules where nicknames are concerned:
1) One does not choose one's own
2) The more you protest, the more it sticks
So far, to varying degrees, we've called you by these names:
grasshopper (given by Uncle Todd and used predominantly in utero)
bug (mommy's first nickname for you)
D-Y (to remind people how to spell your name right)
D (dad's default when he's speaking to you)
d (dad's default when he's IM'ing with Uncle James about you and g)
Big D (obvious reasons)
little d (obvious reasons)
The Boy (inspired by Uncle Sam's use in reference to Anil's son Amit)
Bubba (given by Aunt Gretchen on her first visit to see you)
Bubbas (with a soft "s", an adaptation that mommy sometimes uses)
Mammas (the root of the aforementioned adaptation's pronunciation)
Nugget (from Dad, used rarely)
d-bob (from a long line of Bob's Big Boy-inspired names, inlcluding steeplebob)
pickle (used when Dad wants to reference that most obvious of nicknames which Mom has banished from use)
BoogerBoy (inspired by the tremendous amount of snot associated with the two front teeth [upper] that are just about to cut; new in the last day or so)
Dad
I'm not sure what we'll be calling you by the time you're capable of reading this post, but I want you to understand that there are at least two important rules where nicknames are concerned:
1) One does not choose one's own
2) The more you protest, the more it sticks
So far, to varying degrees, we've called you by these names:
grasshopper (given by Uncle Todd and used predominantly in utero)
bug (mommy's first nickname for you)
D-Y (to remind people how to spell your name right)
D (dad's default when he's speaking to you)
d (dad's default when he's IM'ing with Uncle James about you and g)
Big D (obvious reasons)
little d (obvious reasons)
The Boy (inspired by Uncle Sam's use in reference to Anil's son Amit)
Bubba (given by Aunt Gretchen on her first visit to see you)
Bubbas (with a soft "s", an adaptation that mommy sometimes uses)
Mammas (the root of the aforementioned adaptation's pronunciation)
Nugget (from Dad, used rarely)
d-bob (from a long line of Bob's Big Boy-inspired names, inlcluding steeplebob)
pickle (used when Dad wants to reference that most obvious of nicknames which Mom has banished from use)
BoogerBoy (inspired by the tremendous amount of snot associated with the two front teeth [upper] that are just about to cut; new in the last day or so)
Dad
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
jeepers creepers
Dylan has traded in his commando-style crawl for full-on creeping, aka 'hands and knees' crawling.
Dad
Dad
our baby is gone
There have been a lot of milestones in these first eight months and eleven days and for the most part each can be traced to a single moment, like the first time he rotated his head from side to side or his realization that the toys overhead would move in response to the wild swinging of his arms. When he recognized "up", when he crawled, or when he stood. But this latest milestone was so sudden and so undeniable that it took me by surprise:
Dylan's not a baby anymore.
Of course, he's still incredibly dependent on his mommy and daddy, and may not meet the full requirements for toddlerhood just yet, but he quite literally is his own boy. He sits and plays with his toys, yammering to himself about quantum mechanics and various other undecipherables. When he wants to move, he moves. When he wants something, he tells you. He expresses himself in a hundred different ways. He is engaged with his environment.
I had no expectations for this milestone, in fact it was completely uncharted. Maybe that's why it seems more of a milestone for me than for The Boy. I suddenly realized that I'm no longer The Parent of a Baby (kinda like when I turned 22 and realized "wow, it's a long way up from here") and this identity I had gotten comfortable with was gone in a flash of realization, followed quickly by a new and vague understanding that this is likely the rule, not the exception, and the sooner I get used to it the better.
Father of a Regular Person
Dylan's not a baby anymore.
Of course, he's still incredibly dependent on his mommy and daddy, and may not meet the full requirements for toddlerhood just yet, but he quite literally is his own boy. He sits and plays with his toys, yammering to himself about quantum mechanics and various other undecipherables. When he wants to move, he moves. When he wants something, he tells you. He expresses himself in a hundred different ways. He is engaged with his environment.
I had no expectations for this milestone, in fact it was completely uncharted. Maybe that's why it seems more of a milestone for me than for The Boy. I suddenly realized that I'm no longer The Parent of a Baby (kinda like when I turned 22 and realized "wow, it's a long way up from here") and this identity I had gotten comfortable with was gone in a flash of realization, followed quickly by a new and vague understanding that this is likely the rule, not the exception, and the sooner I get used to it the better.
Father of a Regular Person
Monday, July 17, 2006
Sunday, July 16, 2006
ceiling fans
Dylan,
You've spent a lot of your lifetime in reclined or supine positions, which may or may not be a factor in your fascination with ceiling fans. We have two ceiling fans at home, one in our bedroom and one in yours. They have served to distract and/or occupy your attention a good number of times. Sometimes I'll even reach up and spin one with my hand just to give you something to look at while I change your diaper (in your room) or dress you after your bath (in ours).
The fans have never been more useful than lately. See, you're getting bigger. And more mobile. And you've been really putting those facts on display when I get you dressed for bed. You incessantly and insistently try to push my hands out of the way and roll over (99% of the time it's to your right) before I can get you diapered, and if you manage to get around you either want to romp around the bed or climbing up to my shoulder like I'm some sort of escape route to The Boob that awaits. Tonight you grabbed on, stood up, laid your head on my shoulder...and just waited.
This is where the fan comes in. By this point the last thing you want is to spend more time on your back getting pushed, prodded, and snapped, but if I can just get you to notice the fan (which Mommy left running just in case I needed it) you'll forget about all your worries and I can get my job done. Tonight, in fact, it worked so well that it completely reset your mood and I was able to get a few laughs out of you before Mom wisely called out "I don't think you want to be getting him all worked-up right now..."
You've spent a lot of your lifetime in reclined or supine positions, which may or may not be a factor in your fascination with ceiling fans. We have two ceiling fans at home, one in our bedroom and one in yours. They have served to distract and/or occupy your attention a good number of times. Sometimes I'll even reach up and spin one with my hand just to give you something to look at while I change your diaper (in your room) or dress you after your bath (in ours).
The fans have never been more useful than lately. See, you're getting bigger. And more mobile. And you've been really putting those facts on display when I get you dressed for bed. You incessantly and insistently try to push my hands out of the way and roll over (99% of the time it's to your right) before I can get you diapered, and if you manage to get around you either want to romp around the bed or climbing up to my shoulder like I'm some sort of escape route to The Boob that awaits. Tonight you grabbed on, stood up, laid your head on my shoulder...and just waited.
This is where the fan comes in. By this point the last thing you want is to spend more time on your back getting pushed, prodded, and snapped, but if I can just get you to notice the fan (which Mommy left running just in case I needed it) you'll forget about all your worries and I can get my job done. Tonight, in fact, it worked so well that it completely reset your mood and I was able to get a few laughs out of you before Mom wisely called out "I don't think you want to be getting him all worked-up right now..."
Friday, July 14, 2006
quarter turn
Dylan,
Every time you sit up you rotate 90 degrees to your left. Your mechanics are very consistent. You plant the sole of your left foot while keeping the top of your right foot against the floor and backing over that right leg, and of course you do this with reckless abandon. You've managed to wedge yourself into spots you can't get back out of, backed up into walls/furniture, and right off the side of the bed, where I let you experience just a tad of freefall before catching you.
Dad
Every time you sit up you rotate 90 degrees to your left. Your mechanics are very consistent. You plant the sole of your left foot while keeping the top of your right foot against the floor and backing over that right leg, and of course you do this with reckless abandon. You've managed to wedge yourself into spots you can't get back out of, backed up into walls/furniture, and right off the side of the bed, where I let you experience just a tad of freefall before catching you.
Dad
Thursday, July 13, 2006
adult supervision
Dylan,
Someday when you want to ride your bicycle around the block by yourself for the first time, or walk to school- alone, or to see a movie of your own choosing with friends I've never met, and you say to me something like: "Dad, I think I'm ready for a little more independence...", I'm going to remind you of the day I left you to your own devices for three minutes and you managed to find and eat an *entire pile* of detritus, debris, and dust bunnies Mommy had conveniently swept into a pile but waited for a more convenient time to vacuum up.
Then what are you gonna say?
Dad
Someday when you want to ride your bicycle around the block by yourself for the first time, or walk to school- alone, or to see a movie of your own choosing with friends I've never met, and you say to me something like: "Dad, I think I'm ready for a little more independence...", I'm going to remind you of the day I left you to your own devices for three minutes and you managed to find and eat an *entire pile* of detritus, debris, and dust bunnies Mommy had conveniently swept into a pile but waited for a more convenient time to vacuum up.
Then what are you gonna say?
Dad
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
processing
Dylan,
I'm always wondering what's going through your head while you're experiencing life.
Dad
I'm always wondering what's going through your head while you're experiencing life.
Dad
standing o
D-
Yesterday Mommy laid down a blanket on the back lawn where she blew bubbles at you for so long she got light-headed and needed to lay down herself. You quickly recognized her as a jungle gym. You practically leapt to your feet using Mama for support and stared wide-eyed at the bottle of bubble potion a few feet away while pumping your hips like Tom Jones.
After climbing around some you held up both hands and stood, if only for a moment. And to show it wasn't a fluke you re-gained your balance and did it again, raising your hands up near your shoulders and not immediately falling down. Mom and I were impressed with the effort, and I'm almost convinced you knew what you were doing.
Dad
Yesterday Mommy laid down a blanket on the back lawn where she blew bubbles at you for so long she got light-headed and needed to lay down herself. You quickly recognized her as a jungle gym. You practically leapt to your feet using Mama for support and stared wide-eyed at the bottle of bubble potion a few feet away while pumping your hips like Tom Jones.
After climbing around some you held up both hands and stood, if only for a moment. And to show it wasn't a fluke you re-gained your balance and did it again, raising your hands up near your shoulders and not immediately falling down. Mom and I were impressed with the effort, and I'm almost convinced you knew what you were doing.
Dad
Monday, July 10, 2006
Saturday, July 08, 2006
power poles
Dylan,
For the first time since you started joining me on The Rancho Walk seven months ago, we managed the full regular distance and made it all the way to the top of the Power Poles trail. You rode in the B•O•B and I ran (slowly) most of the way up to the vista point where you missed out on the fabulous views because you were asleep.
It's good to be back. And it's good to have you with me.
Dad
For the first time since you started joining me on The Rancho Walk seven months ago, we managed the full regular distance and made it all the way to the top of the Power Poles trail. You rode in the B•O•B and I ran (slowly) most of the way up to the vista point where you missed out on the fabulous views because you were asleep.
It's good to be back. And it's good to have you with me.
Dad
standing for something
For the first time today we found Dylan standing in his crib. He was supposed to be taking an afternoon nap but had been crying for 20 minutes instead. After a bit of especially angry crying I decided I'd take another route. I went in and found him standing at the end of the crib, where the rails are highest, crying for all he was worth, tears streaming across his face, and to top it off he had a poopy diaper.
I'm not sure if he was more upset about a nap he didn't want to take or about not having many good options once he was standing up.
Dad
I'm not sure if he was more upset about a nap he didn't want to take or about not having many good options once he was standing up.
Dad
Friday, July 07, 2006
squeaky clean
Dylan just made the jump from the infant/reclined end of his plastic bathtub to the toddler/upright end. Hopefully next we'll break his habit of leaning over the saddle horn to try and drink the bath water.
Dad
Dad
better than a rooster
Most mornings I consider myself lucky. This is because it's usually Cheryl who gets out of bed to deal with The Boy -change him, feed him, and so on- while I get to sleep longer.
The mornings that I feel most lucky are the days that Cheryl sneaks back into bed and sits the little fella on the covers between the two of us. D doesn't always realize that I'm actually right there, depending on which way I'm facing and whether or not I've moved, but as soon as he catches on he starts waving his arms, rocking his tiny pelvis, and smiling from one king-sized corner to the next. Then he clambers at me, looking for something to grab, whack, or pull until he knows that I'm awake.
Dad
The mornings that I feel most lucky are the days that Cheryl sneaks back into bed and sits the little fella on the covers between the two of us. D doesn't always realize that I'm actually right there, depending on which way I'm facing and whether or not I've moved, but as soon as he catches on he starts waving his arms, rocking his tiny pelvis, and smiling from one king-sized corner to the next. Then he clambers at me, looking for something to grab, whack, or pull until he knows that I'm awake.
Dad
Thursday, July 06, 2006
raspberries
One of the most effective early ways we found to make D laugh was to give him raspberries on his tummy, especially just a bit to his left side.
Lately, he's taken to dispensing them himself. He'll go to town on mommy's shoulder, or attack her leg when she's sitting on the floor with him.
It's really cute to see and surprisingly audible. Maybe it's his willingness to drool so much, but I seriously think he's better at it than I. And I'm saying that after having just had a di-rect head-to-head with him, either one of us on an opposing side of Mommy's arm while she held him (I was supposed to be getting his bath ready).
Dad
Lately, he's taken to dispensing them himself. He'll go to town on mommy's shoulder, or attack her leg when she's sitting on the floor with him.
It's really cute to see and surprisingly audible. Maybe it's his willingness to drool so much, but I seriously think he's better at it than I. And I'm saying that after having just had a di-rect head-to-head with him, either one of us on an opposing side of Mommy's arm while she held him (I was supposed to be getting his bath ready).
Dad
real food
D's been knocking off a lot of milestones lately. He's even getting himself into a seated position from his tummy (he pushes up to his hands and knees then slowly backs his butt over his heels). The last two mornings Cheryl has gone into his room to find him up on his knees looking for a route over the crib rail.
Today he's eating dinner with Cheryl. Actually eating the potatoes, carrots, and what all from the leftovers we had the other night. I'm assuming she didn't feed him the spicy sausage. He's eating broccoli too. Not pureed stuff, but full-on foliage straight from the farm.
My goodness, what will he be up to tomorrow?
Today he's eating dinner with Cheryl. Actually eating the potatoes, carrots, and what all from the leftovers we had the other night. I'm assuming she didn't feed him the spicy sausage. He's eating broccoli too. Not pureed stuff, but full-on foliage straight from the farm.
My goodness, what will he be up to tomorrow?
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
fireworks
Dylan,
You slept through the night on your first 4th of July, fireworks a-blastin' away outside. Nice Work.
Dad
You slept through the night on your first 4th of July, fireworks a-blastin' away outside. Nice Work.
Dad
Monday, July 03, 2006
rough night
I knew we were throwing fuel onto the fire, even though we couldn't yet feel the heat.
For the last week or two Dylan has been giving us cues that say "Hey, my sleep/wake rythms are no longer lined-up with this routine we've been using". His naps are more inconsistent, he falls asleep while nursing in the evening (RESPECT THE BOOB!), and doesn't go to sleep as easily after his bath. Worse than those, he's waking up several times a night, sometimes before we've even gotten ourselves to bed.
Still, we packed our weekend full of activities not very amenable to Dylan's adjusted rythmic needs.
The Boy didn't sleep as much as he often does on our Rancho Walk, but he was very well-behaved at our new breakfast place, Tom's Depot, and sat in a restaurant high-chair for the first time.
After breakfast we went to visit Nana and Grandpa Joe. Paul and Elaine were back in town and we hadn't seen them yet. I knew D was tired, and I had imagined he might be willing to take a nap there, but the folks were on their way out the door when we arrived and the house was being cleaned, so we hung out on the patio table until D started to get irritable.
And here comes the gasoline.
Uncle Marc had phoned Grandpa and mentioned that he and Aunt Lisa were hanging out at home watching the World Cup.
I decided to stop by.
Dylan fell asleep in the car (of course) but it's only a five minute drive. I imagined him being tired enough to nap at their place. He slept another 10 minutes after I brought him inside, but that doesn't even count. We got a call from Mommy and found out she had finished her bike ride (48 miles) at a high school just a few minutes away. Soon the whole family was there. It was really nice to visit Marc and Lisa, and to experience their panini-maker, and Dylan put on a little show of his crawling skills for them but he did not sleep.
By the time we left, we had essentially spoiled even his afternoon nap as well. Sheesh.
When I finally put him down for the night he actually sneezed himself to sleep. One sneeze. Out like a light. He woke up a few times through the night, but we mostly left him to cry and he'd fall back asleep.
Sunday morning we went to the Creek Trail for a run. Mommy went farther than Daddy is capable of, so he and Dylan turned back early. Dylan got his first experience on a playground swingset while we waited.
We stopped at the nearby Farmer's Market for pastries, stone fruit, and smoothies.
We got home, showered, fed The Boy, and packed up for a trip to the coast. We had low clouds at our house so we figured the beach would be cold, but the fog had all burned off and the Capitola beach was sunny and beautiful when we arrived. There was a lot of walking involved, but it was a fun trip. Dylan was introduced to the Pacific. It occurs to me now that I'm glad he met my ocean first. It somehow affirms our common roots.
We got him to bed at a decent time, slightly on the early side of usual. He strained against my grasp one instant, and fell asleep the next. We brought the baby monitor next door and watched the neighbors light off little fireworks in their backyard for their 2- and 4-year olds, then we sat in their living room and talked for a while.
Dylan started screaming around 10:30. I went home, calmed him down and put him back to sleep. He woke up again a couple hours later, screaming like he was in pain. Nothing I tried helped. Time for Mommy. Another couple hours, more hard crying. After twenty or so minutes of reaching deep into my bag of tricks, Cheryl came out (I was in the living room now) in relief. And I was relieved. He did a lot more crying as the night wore on, and we did a lot of listening. Cheryl did very little sleeping. It may have been gas pains, it may have been his new (2nd) tooth, but after a day when his naps consisted of a stroller ride and two car trips I knew we were due for some suffering.
Tired Dad
For the last week or two Dylan has been giving us cues that say "Hey, my sleep/wake rythms are no longer lined-up with this routine we've been using". His naps are more inconsistent, he falls asleep while nursing in the evening (RESPECT THE BOOB!), and doesn't go to sleep as easily after his bath. Worse than those, he's waking up several times a night, sometimes before we've even gotten ourselves to bed.
Still, we packed our weekend full of activities not very amenable to Dylan's adjusted rythmic needs.
The Boy didn't sleep as much as he often does on our Rancho Walk, but he was very well-behaved at our new breakfast place, Tom's Depot, and sat in a restaurant high-chair for the first time.
After breakfast we went to visit Nana and Grandpa Joe. Paul and Elaine were back in town and we hadn't seen them yet. I knew D was tired, and I had imagined he might be willing to take a nap there, but the folks were on their way out the door when we arrived and the house was being cleaned, so we hung out on the patio table until D started to get irritable.
And here comes the gasoline.
Uncle Marc had phoned Grandpa and mentioned that he and Aunt Lisa were hanging out at home watching the World Cup.
I decided to stop by.
Dylan fell asleep in the car (of course) but it's only a five minute drive. I imagined him being tired enough to nap at their place. He slept another 10 minutes after I brought him inside, but that doesn't even count. We got a call from Mommy and found out she had finished her bike ride (48 miles) at a high school just a few minutes away. Soon the whole family was there. It was really nice to visit Marc and Lisa, and to experience their panini-maker, and Dylan put on a little show of his crawling skills for them but he did not sleep.
By the time we left, we had essentially spoiled even his afternoon nap as well. Sheesh.
When I finally put him down for the night he actually sneezed himself to sleep. One sneeze. Out like a light. He woke up a few times through the night, but we mostly left him to cry and he'd fall back asleep.
Sunday morning we went to the Creek Trail for a run. Mommy went farther than Daddy is capable of, so he and Dylan turned back early. Dylan got his first experience on a playground swingset while we waited.
We stopped at the nearby Farmer's Market for pastries, stone fruit, and smoothies.
We got home, showered, fed The Boy, and packed up for a trip to the coast. We had low clouds at our house so we figured the beach would be cold, but the fog had all burned off and the Capitola beach was sunny and beautiful when we arrived. There was a lot of walking involved, but it was a fun trip. Dylan was introduced to the Pacific. It occurs to me now that I'm glad he met my ocean first. It somehow affirms our common roots.
We got him to bed at a decent time, slightly on the early side of usual. He strained against my grasp one instant, and fell asleep the next. We brought the baby monitor next door and watched the neighbors light off little fireworks in their backyard for their 2- and 4-year olds, then we sat in their living room and talked for a while.
Dylan started screaming around 10:30. I went home, calmed him down and put him back to sleep. He woke up again a couple hours later, screaming like he was in pain. Nothing I tried helped. Time for Mommy. Another couple hours, more hard crying. After twenty or so minutes of reaching deep into my bag of tricks, Cheryl came out (I was in the living room now) in relief. And I was relieved. He did a lot more crying as the night wore on, and we did a lot of listening. Cheryl did very little sleeping. It may have been gas pains, it may have been his new (2nd) tooth, but after a day when his naps consisted of a stroller ride and two car trips I knew we were due for some suffering.
Tired Dad
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