two hundred

Dylan,

This is the two hundredth post I've made to this blog.

As I write, I imagine you reading these entries and what meaning they might convey. A few years from now you'll peruse them for the first time and probably appreciate the pictures and videos the most, but I picture you reading them again when you're ten, or fifteen, or thirty and perhaps finding different meaning each time. Especially if you have a Dylan of you're own.

Whatever your age or perspective, I've enjoyed writing to my boy.

Dad

When I'm at work

Dylan,

I keep this photo (along with a few others) on my desk at work:



Almost every time I look at it I pause, amazed.

Dad

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master,
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

--Rudyard Kipling

togetherness

Dylan,

Mom pointed out to me yesterday while she was browsing through gigabyte upon gigabyte of photographs we've taken of you in the last year and a half that we don't have so many of you and her together. Come to think of it, we probably don't have so many of you and I together either. All those times we're inspired to run for the camera we lose just a little bit of context, I guess.

Since the extent to which we spend time holding you close really is a reflection of how much we love and care for you every second of every day, I think the record ought to reflect as much. Time to be a little more deliberate in capturing the *ahem* bigger picture.

Dad

nigh nigh

Dylan,

You've been an absolute champ lately at bedtime. You drink your milk, have your bath, and get in your pj's. Then I tell you it's night-night time, you whisper "nigh nigh" and as soon as we walk into your darkened room (which Mom always prepares for us) you lay down in my arms and tuck in, and I lower you into your crib with your teddy bear and blanket, raise the crib rail while giving you a few reassuring pats, say "night night" once more and walk out of the room.

Last night you took it up a notch.

I didn't give you your milk until after your pj's. I thought the break in routine might make things rough, and when you insisted on traipsing through the house only semi-interested in your moo-juice I braced for a fight. Then, when you had handed me your sippy-cup for the third time, finally all done, I said "night night Dylan". You surprised me by turning and walking from the kitchen through the dining room, down the hall, into your room, straight past Mommy and all the way to your crib. I picked you up and put you in straightaway. You were ready for bed and it had never been easier.

Maybe I should start asking you to draw the bath and change your own diapers.

Dad

careful

D,

Mom pointed out to me that when you trip and fall and start to cry, if she says to you "you have to be careful, right?" you will immediately stop crying and say "Yeah."

And that's the end of it.

Dad

baba

Dylan,

Last Saturday after breakfast you and I drove over to Grandma & Grandpa's house for a visit. When I parked in the driveway and opened your car door you seemed to suddenly recognize your surroundings and said: "Baba, Yaya." You repeated this several times between the car and the house.

At home, when we go through the photo book of people who love you we have nicknames for all of your grandparents. On Mom's side we've started calling them Papa and Yaya.

By the time we got to the door you were clearly aware of where we were and who we were about to visit. Grandpa opened the door and you gave him an enthusiastic "Baba!".

Seeing his eyes, I doubt he ever felt more connected to you than at that moment.

Dad

mama

Dylan,

Most kids say "mama" and "dada" among their very first words.

You learned things like "light", "truck", "dog", and "meow" first. You picked up "dada" eventually but you made Mommy wait until last month -- 16 full months into this endeavor -- before you finally started calling her by name.

Now you say "mama" all the time, when you see pictures of her, see her car pull into the driveway (actually it starts as soon as you hear the garage door open), or when I ask "Where's Mommy?" if she's still in bed when you've finished breakfast and you rush in to tell her how much you love her and how much she means to you.

Dad

Shovel Guitar

Dylan,

You're a fan of the guitar. Your music classes, Spanish classes, and Uncle Marc have made quite an impression. Now you treat everything from plastic shovels to table spoons like guitars -- sometimes even singing along.

You sat happily yesterday on the back steps just jammin' away while I did yard work. You kept it up so long I eventually went for the camera. You tried to play it up a bit for the camera, of course, but I caught some stuff worth keeping.



Dad

Easter

d-

Your interest in harvesting the eggs paled greatly in comparison to your interest in getting them open. No chocolate for you this year, just kix and crackers.

dad

happy man

Dylan,

There is something about having such a wonderful and beautiful wife and child that triggers the ancient lizard brain deep within, reinforcing some pleasantly sub-cognitive understanding of what it is to be a man. It is primitive, yet joyful.

Dad

wheels on the bus

d,

You've been requesting that we sing The Wheels on the Bus lately. You sign your equivalent of the "round and round" hand motions with a hopeful look, and you always ask for more and more verses.

dad

fishies

Dylan,

We took another trip to the aquarium, just you and me. Here're some pics:







Dad