big trucks

Dylan,

There's some construction going on a block from our house. Big diggers and earth movers and dump trucks, even a steam roller. They've cut a giant trench down the middle of the street to lay new pipes. We walked down there today and had a look together.

The trucks were loud, and they all beep, beep, beeped while they backed up. You didn't want to get too close so we stood on the sidewalk several houses away from the action and watched for a long time. You kept pressing your nose with your index finger every time you heard the beeping. When we finally left you said "bye-bye trucks" about a million times.


Dad

treasure

Dylan,

I just finished putting you to bed.

I was thinking tonight while you were falling asleep that I won't always be able to hold you in my arms. It won't be long at all -- in fact I'm sure it will feel like the blink of an eye -- before you're big and strong enough to lift me right off my feet.

I treasure it while I still can. Every night, rocking and singing you to sleep, is the most precious moment of my life.

Dad

pescatarian

Dylan,

You're a big fan of fish.

Whether it's going to see them live at the aquarium or on ice in the grocery store, you're always up for fish.

You love to eat fish. In fact, it's nearly impossible to get you to eat meat other than fish unless we lie to you and say that it's fish.

You may be a natural born pescatarian.

Dad

Too Quiet in the Other Room

Dylan,

You recently tore to pieces half our collection of cork coasters.

Dad

murphy's dynamic

Dylan,

While it's great that Mommy or I can take you out to a park for a run or a long walk, and it's so handy that you'll readily take a 90 min nap in the stroller (even when you've only been up for one hour out of the last twelve!) there's a comi-trag-ironic downside:

You're sleeping while we're exercising.

So when, a bit later, we might feel like taking a snooze, you're still nicely rested and ready to go play.

Bittersweet, I guess.


Dad

you're in

d,

The other night I tried to put you in some bath water that was too hot. You complained and I put you on my hip while I adjusted the temperature. Your response was to pee all over the side of my shirt, down my leg, and on my shoe.

A surprising amount made it to the floor considering how much was absorbed by my clothing.

dad

crash

Dylan,

We went to dinner with Yaya and Baba last night at an old favorite hole in the wall. After dinner you were saying good-bye to everyone in the place as you walked to the exit with me following behind. You headed right out the front door and onto the sidewalk. I had just moved to close the gap between us and make sure I could grab you if you decided to head right out into the street when suddenly a cyclist coming unseen from our left yelped and hit his brakes. He was in his 50's. He'd been riding on the sidewalk because it's a very busy street with no bike lane. Although he had slowed down as a precaution, he just wasn't ready -- or quick enough -- to handle your surprise entry onto his scene. He braked hard and swerved, unable to stop in time before falling sideways over you, knocking you to the ground and pinning you, briefly, under his bike.

Mind you, this happened just inches in front of me as I stood maybe two feet behind you at the threshold, my field of vision still limited by the door frame.

I lifted the bike, which was unfortunately still securely attached to the rider, as quickly as I could and pulled you up off the ground. You were traumatized, but I could tell right away that you weren't badly hurt. You sustained a cut on your lip, your nose was bleeding a little, and you scraped your head near the temple.

I turned to see the rider, who was still on the ground straddling the bike, stuck in his pedal clips, and asked if he was all right. In a shaky, winded voice he hollered "Never mind me! Is he okay? What about his head? Check the side of his head!"

It took him a long time to get off the ground, and longer still to get himself and his bike back in order.

Back inside, we got you some ice and moist napkins. The lip bled plentifully and you howled for a while. I was glad this hadn't happened while we were on vacation because you needed some mommy love to finally calm down.













Dad

light of mine

This little light of mine
I'm gonna let him shine

This little light of mine
I'ma gonna let him shine

This little light of mine
I'm gonna let him shine

Let him shine, shine, shine
Let him shine


D- It's a little twist on an old song. Along with a few other verses this is my latest favorite song to sing you at bedtime. It seems to have special effectiveness at eliciting a whispered "yeah" when I say "it's night-night time" or ask "are you ready for night-night?"


Dad

Grandpa Russ

Dylan,

You've never been very willing to be led around by the hand. In fact, the only time I remember you holding my hand while we walked was at the Mother's Day concert when you grabbed my finger, tucked it into the small of your back and dragged me around the spaces you had been exploring along with hordes of other kids.

For some reason last week with Grandpa the rules changed. Time and again he offered you a big finger to hold as he took you this way or that, and you repeatedly grabbed hold and followed. I guess it's just a special thing between you two.











Dad

guitar action

Dylan,

We arrived in Seattle last week to find a toy guitar waiting for you. You took to it like probably no other toy you've owned, climbing into chairs to sit and strum it for a while then dragging it along behind you while you toured the house and played one-handed with other toys. You even held it during diaper changes.

Infatuated even with the trapezoidal box it came in, you spent a lot of time and expressed great frustration trying to put it neatly into the box, and fit the lid, just to take it right back out again. And again. And again.

We recycled that box shortly after returning home.








Dad

all about me

Dylan,

On our trip to Seattle Grandma gave me my baby book, titled "All About Me". It's white with toys giraffe and puppy on the front -- each with a ribbon tied 'round it's neck -- and outlined in shiny silver.

Inside the front cover are two handprints, roughly half the length of current day, that were clearly contributed by the subject -- one seemingly traced, the other quite possibly free-handed. Other indicators suggest this may have been done at age two and a half. I believe I may have an actual memory of the act, which I find interesting because when asked before (like I first was by Mrs. Tsutsumi in the 6th grade), I've never been able to conjour up even a candidate for what my oldest memory may be.

Me not being the first-born there are unsurprisingly more spots blank than populated, but here is some trivia:

I was born bigger than you were, by six and a half ounces. A half-inch longer too, but by eighteen months your weight exceeded mine by nearly three pounds. You need only gain a mere eight pounds and a fraction to match my weight as a three-year-old.

I waited a few months longer for my first haircut, and you waited a few months longer to stand up and walk.

I was very shy starting pre-school at 3 years and 8 months, while you have been a socializer from your earliest days. I like to think you draw energy from being around people rather than recharging your batteries by spending time alone.

I just know you're enjoying reading about yourself at this age.

Dad

bite

Dylan,

I got a call from Daycare last night, albeit after I had already left to pick you up. The official report says you were trying to steal a toy from a "friend" and they decided to escalate the matter by biting you on the knuckle.

Serves you right.

It left a visible mark, but didn't break the skin. You cried very briefly.

You're going to have to learn to negotiate better.

Dad

climbing

Dylan,

I think you got more climbing practice done in Seattle than you would have at home, or if Mommy had been traveling with us. Yesterday I came in from the garage to find that for the first time you had climbed into your highchair all on your own.

I'm very impressed, and just a little worried.

Dad

boar

d,

This morning I got out of bed not because you were crying or fussing but because I could hear you in the next room saying "dada, dada".

I walked in to say hello and you were standing there with a bear in each hand -- Jack and Ivan -- saying, for the first time, "boar, boar".

dad

plane trippin

D,

We flew to Seattle last week to visit family and friends. While you were a handful on both flight legs, you were kind enough to sleep for 70 min on the way out (and boy, were my arms tired) and do a lot more playing than fussing on the way home, spending plenty of time diligently learning to operate the seat belt.

At SeaTac a woman in her 70's touched me on the arm as we were gathering our gear to deplane after I had pulled out H. Ivan Bear to keep you company. "You are the best dad" she said.

I give us both credit for that impression.

Dad