Monday, December 25, 2006

the most beautiful thing in all the world

Dylan,

It's Christmas morning. We've been hanging out together, wrapping Mommy's secret presents before she gets up, and diligently exploring your toy collection.

You are the most beautiful thing in all the world.

Dad

Saturday, December 23, 2006

uncle james













giddyup.

Can you use that in a sentence?

Dylan,

You just combined two signs for the first time. You were signaling "more" and pointing to the sink. I picked up the empty sippy cup to see if that's what you were trying to indicate and you responded by repeating "more" and promptly adding "milk" with both hands.

Dad

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

frog legs

Dylan,

You used to pull your knees up when I took you out of the bath. I'd hold you in the air for a minute, curled into a ball with your feet crossed, and let some of the wetness drip away before I wrapped you in a hooded towel. Lately, you've been stretching your toes down towards the water as I lift you out, like a bullfrog coming off a lily pad in slow motion, and then trying to splash water around with your toes at the last second.

You're a little harder to manage when you're stretched out a full 32 inches.

Dad

molars

D-bob,

You've got molars cuttin'. Painful. We've discovered Little Teethers Oral Pain Relief Gel for Infants and Children. It's Orajel w/o some of the extras, like saccharin. (C'mon, Orajel, saccharin?!)



Just like before, you're nose is running like crazy and you have an occasional fever.

Dad

ps: Here's a closer look:

den animal

Dylan,

If indeed you once had ancestors roaming the Eastern Sahara, I'm fairly convinced they weren't of the tree-dwelling kind. More likely they were some sort of canine, or another kind of den animal.

Since you first developed locomotive tendencies you've been a fan of squeezing into nooks and crannies, even being more comfortable curled up against the side(s) of the crib than stretched out in the ample space available.

After dinner tonight you tried to climb into an empty styrofoam container that carried take-out chinese (white rice, actually) as it lay sprung open like two joined squares on the floor, all of two inches deep. It was a squeeze, for sure and surprising, frankly, that you'd even recognize it as something into which you might just barely fit, as you did.

Instead of a big-boy bed we might have to eventually get you a dog house.

Dad

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

controlled descent

Dylan,

At about 30 inches, our bed is pretty tall. But that hasn't stopped you from learning how to climb off the bed on your own. On your tummy, you turn your feet toward the edge of the bed and let yourself sliiiide down off the side. You land feet-first but it hardly slows you down on your way to whomping your butt on the floor. Then you scramble along to wherever it was that you were headed.

Dad

la lengua

Dylan,

You've discovered your tongue, and it fascinates you. For days now you've been rubbing it along your existing teeth (still just the six) and wagging and staring at it in the mirror while you're in the bath.

Sometimes it's Jordan-esque, an absent-minded by-product of focused concentration, and other times it reminds me of a stodgy old woman I used to work with who had a tick of sorts and would stick out her tongue uncontrollably when she got animated.

Self-discovery is a good thing. There'll be plenty more of that in your future.

Dad

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

rubber ducky

Dylan,

One of your rubber duckies is a sqeak toy, so it has a hole at the bottom for air to travel through. After some active duty at bathtime, the ducky has usually taken on a fair bit of water (and sometimes we fill it up even further, just for fun). I like to hold the yellow waterfowl aloft and sqeeze the water out, shooting it into the tub in front of you. Always fascinated by this, you'll usually reach out with both hands in the water stream, slowly grasping at it with each hand in turn until the source runs dry. Yesterday, you took a new tack, leaning forward and sticking you nose in the falling water. And then you tried to drink. We're talking dirty bathwater here, D. That's gross.

Dad

dancing boy

Dylan,

We've gotten into a routine of feeding you your dinner and then having you watch a Baby Einstein video while we eat ours. You like to get as close to the TV as you can, so we buffer it by putting the IKEA footstools in the way. You often stand up against them, your hands rested flat atop the stools, entranced by the images onscreen, and quite often you'll do a little side to side dance to the accompanying music. It's fabulous to watch from the table.

Dad

102.9

D,

You established a new Personal Record (PR) for body temperature the other day, nearly hitting one hundred three degrees.

We stripped you down and cooled you with wet towels while you drank your nighttime bottle. Then we put you to bed.

You seem to be over it today, although you still have a bit of a wet cough and we're just noticing tonight that your tongue is very white. It even seemed to catch your attention, as you were sticking out your tongue and investigating your mouth in the mirror tonight while you were in the tub.

Could be Thrush, which could also explain your recent poor appetite and really bad breath.

Good thing you have a dr. appointment tomorrow.

Dad

Friday, December 01, 2006

sick day

Dylan,

You're sick again.

It was predictable enough. Remember how all those kids were crying at school the other morning? It was pretty clear that at least two of them were too sick to belong there. And since one of them was your best bud Dylan J., the chance of you getting exposed was 100%. He was so wiped out and dripping with snot that he couldn't even screech a response when you screamed your hello.

You had a pretty bad last night yourself, coughing a lot and crying for a good while sometime between 2-3am. In the morning, your temperature measured 99.6 degrees and your eyes were glossy. I agreed to work from home the first half of the day and then let Mommy take over when she finished her half-shift at the hospital.

I didn't get any work done.

What I did get, though, was some pleasant time with you. You weren't much for eating, even though we tried three times. After a decent morning nap (that you were verrrry slow to come fully out of) you sat on my lap on the living room floor and watched Charlie Rose interview Jimmy Carter. It was special because you were so still and so content, enjoying the incomparable comfort and protection of a daddy's giant limbs wrapped all around you. When I rested my cheek and then the underside of my chin on the top of your head, you rotated your head slowly side to side for a while, not taking your eyes off the TV, exploring the sound and sensation of your thin blonde hair twisting into a mess.

After a while, you brightened up and we had a lot of fun laughing, chasing, and tickling before Mommy came home.

Dad