Swimming and snake wrangling
You’ve already seen a glimpse of the third day of our camping trip on the last Wordless Wednesday post. Two very substantial things took place on this day, which I’d like to share with you now.
Early in the afternoon, while Tyler was napping, I took Delilah for a walk. She seemed pent up, so I wanted to take her to a secluded area where she could run free and burn up some energy. We had a great time walking running through the woods, and through the marsh (which I found purely by accident). I could have taken Delilah back to camp covered in mud. I actually wanted to, so I could show off the fun we had. The problem was that Delilah crashed into me while running around. This was while I was snapping off some landscape pictures. She knocked my foot off of the fallen tree that I had presently been perched upon. When said foot contacted the earth, it promptly sank eight inches into warm black mud. This, my dear friends, was unacceptable. Next stop, the lake.
I share a trait with Delilah in that neither of us can swim. I promise to write about my reasons later. Delilah just thrashes around. This day, our third day of camping, Delilah “got it” and simply started swimming.
Later, my step-dad (Ganpa) and I had just finished a little fishing and were walking up a hill when he brought my attention to a snake slithering by. Minutes later, Ganpa was (nervously) driving us back to camp while I tightly gripped a thirty-six inch snake in my hands. I looked down to see blood on my hands. Resisting the urge to drop the snake, and likely cause Ganpa to send the truck careening into the lake, I carefully inspected my hands as the snake redoubled its efforts at escaping my grasp. I began to suspect that the snake was poisonous and had injected me with an anesthetic-like venom, because I didn’t feel any pain. Just as I processed that thought, the snake performed a barrel roll in my hands and I spotted a wound on its tail. It appears to have happened recently, but I know I didn’t do it, so I just made a mental note to scrub my hands later.
We arrived at camp seconds later, and I beckoned Tyler to me. Ganpa was able to get some video before his batteries died and caught me being an evil daddy by scaring Tyler with the snake.
In case you don’t have 2 minutes to spare to watch the video – really, you should watch the video – you can forward to the one minute mark to watch me scare Tyler with it.
Tyler helped me release the snake a few moments later.
Tyler then decided to make like his daddy and set off chasing the snake. AND CAUGHT IT!
He held it up by it’s tail and said, “Lonnnng.”
Then, he held it with both hands and STRETCHED it. I was preoccupied with laughing and taking pictures, so my mom (Gamma) had to tell Tyler it wasn’t nice to stretch a snake.
For reasons unknown to all of us, Tyler then put the snake up to his neck like it was choking him.
Afterward, Tyler set the snake free and we all went back to camp. The fearlessness of my son amazes me and warms my heart.
Come on, Tyler! Daddy’s hungover!
Tyler can open doors. Tyler’s aunts and uncles think this is great. Tyler’s grandparents think this is a testament to his intelligence. Tyler’s parents are terrified. We try to always keep our exterior doors locked, but that doesn’t mean we always remember to do so. I attribute it to the fact that, even though we live in a great town, I grew up in a town where you damn well better lock your doors. But, what about those rare occasions that we forget to lock our doors? Doesn’t Murphy’s Law require that to be the day that Tyler walks out of the house while I’m in the shower? This is why people have grey hair.
This past Sunday morning, my sleep was disturbed by the sound of Tyler’s door being SLAMMED shut. I glanced at the green glowing numbers on the alarm clock. It was early, but not too early to be awake. Unfortunately for me, I enjoyed a strong gin and tonic just six hours ago. Unfortunatelyer for me, I went to bed just five hours ago. Unfortunatelyest for me, I couldn’t roll over and plead with Sarah to get up with Tyler because she was out of town.
So, I did what any parent whom had a strong drink (or two) the night before and was currently operating on five hours of sleep would do. I closed my eyes and hoped that the situation would resolve itself. Then, rattle rattle rattle SLAM, followed by the thump thump thumping of a toddler’s feet across his floor and to his bed. Shocked and confounded by my good luck, I instantly let myself fall into a doze. I knew it wouldn’t last long and resolved myself t- SLAM!
I closed my eyes tighter. I knew that there was no longer any chance of Tyler being a good little boy and going back to bed so that his ever-so-slightly hungover, and extremely tired daddy could continue his sweet, sweet slumber. But that sure as hell didn’t stop me from hoping. As I lay there, I heard Tyler’s incredibly sweet and innocent voice coming from directly next to me.
“Hi daddy.”
Headache and exhaustion be damned, I opened my eyes and smiled at Tyler. “Hi, bug. Do you wanna snuggle with daddy for a minute?”
“Yeah,” Tyler replied as he tried climbing into the bed.
I pulled him up and put my arm around him. Fifteen minutes later, Tyler climbed down from the bed. I asked where he was going.
“Nigh night. New bed.”
“New bed” is what Tyler has been calling his bed since we converted it from crib to bed. It’s adorable.
“Okay, buddy. I’ll see you in a bit.”
Tyler answered, “okay buh-dee.”
My little angel of a son gave me another thirty minutes of sleep before waking up for good.
A Father’s Guilt Over Imaginary Monkey Poop
Potty training is not, as they sometimes say, “in full swing,” but we’re working on it. We’re at the point that Tyler knows to run his little ass as far away from us as possible when we see that he’s pooping and ask him about it. When asked, he provides no hesitation in telling us that he does not want to use the potty. So, for better or for worse, right or wrong, we’ve resorted to bribery to get Tyler to plant his butt on the potty. Personally, I don’t agree with using candy as a reward, but, well, that’s what we’re doing. Let’s face it, Joe, it’s not always about what you want. It’s a hard realization, and I’m coming to terms with it. All I know for sure is that if we don’t put on a united front, Tyler will conquer us.
When Tyler tries on the potty (a few minutes, at least. None of this sit-down, stand-up, done that he has attempted to pass off as “trying”), he is rewarded with one M&M candy. If he, um, produces results while on the potty, Tyler gets two M&M candies. If you’ve read my previous post, you already know that Tyler tries to convince us that he gets two candies just for trying.
A couple days ago, I was doing dishes in the kitchen, while Sarah slept upstairs, because it was her morning to sleep in. I looked over to Tyler, who had fallen uncharacteristically silent, and saw the tell-tale face. Bulging eyes… Red cheeks… Slightly opened mouth… Stern concentration…
“ARE YOU POOPING?! Let’s go use the potty!”
“NO!”
Tyler turned and ran from the kitchen, shouting, “NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!” He’s a quick little booger, too! I didn’t catch him until he hit the dead-end of the baby gate that led upstairs to the safety of his sleeping mommy.
I picked him up and put his butt to my nose, sniffing. Aww, shit, I thought. I took a moment to both appreciate the irony of that thought, and to wonder when exactly I got to the point of it being second nature to smell my toddler’s butt to check for poop.
I carried Tyler into the bathroom and we talked about where we need to make our pee-pees and poo-poos. He had all the right answers to my inquiries. Upon being asked, he told me he didn’t want to sit on the potty and frankly, I didn’t see the point in making him do so anyway.
“Okay buddy, but you don’t get candy if you don’t try.”
“Ah-ah…. poddy.”
“Do you think Ah-ah needs to use the potty?”
“Yeeeeah.”
We placed Tyler’s monkey on the potty and read a couple books to him. After finishing the second book, Tyler jumped up and yelled, “Candy! Two.” It came out more as “Kaynd! Doo,” but the parental translator that seems to have been implanted in my skull understood perfectly.
I told Tyler that Ah-ah was a good little monkey for making poo-poos in the potty, and would get two M&Ms for doing so.
“Yeeeah,” Tyler yelled while running into the kitchen.
Using slight-of-hand that would never fool the eyes of an adult, I gave Ah-ah two pieces of candy. All the while, Tyler slapped his chest, shouting, “TyTy! TyTy! TyTy! TyTy! TyTy!”
“I’m sorry, Tyler, but you didn’t use the potty. Ah-ah gets candy for using the potty, but not Tyler.”
An immense level of guilt descended and came to rest on my shoulders as I said those words. I’m giving fake candy to a fake monkey for taking a fake dump, and I’m rubbing Tyler’s nose in the fake stink of it.
Recently, I’ve been working with Tyler on faces. He loves making a happy face and a surprised face. Yesterday, we started making a poo-poo face. It’s just as it sounds; we make the face Tyler makes when he’s pooping. a few nights ago, while making poo-poo face for me and Sarah, Tyler peed in the potty! He was so excited (as were we)! Tyler started running in place, clapping his hands and shouting “I DID IT!” and “YAY!”
Then, he suddenly fell silent, looked at Sarah and yelled, “EMM EMM!”
“Yes, Tyler, you get two M&Ms for using the potty!”
All things being said, I’ll call it a success. I still feel guilty about gving Ah-ah candy and shunning Tyler. I’m glad that I didn’t get all hunter/gatherer on Sarah, pound my chest and refuse to hop on the M&M bandwagon with her (yes, I’m eating my words over here. OM NOM NOMNOM). Most of all, I’m hoping this is the last box of diapers we have to buy for Tyler.
Update after writing but before publishing this post:
Tyler has peed in the potty three times, lots of times in his diapers, and twice on the carpet. I don’t know who’s winning, but progress is progress.
Hi
I love my son. I swear I do. Every day, I tell myself that I could not possibly love him more than I do at that particular moment. Then the next day, I realize that I love him more than I did the day before.
But he can really annoy the hell out of me sometimes.
Over the holidays, I was off work for two weeks. Sarah and I alternated sleeping in and waking up with Tyler. We spent entire days just lounging around, playing, and relaxing. Interspersed with these times of zen were periods of chaos, which is to be expected during any holiday season. Me being at home gave Sarah the opportunity to have a bit of a break from full-time, non-stop parenting. A break that she needed and deserved. A bit to her chagrin, Tyler also thoroughly enjoyed my sudden availability. On a few occasions that Sarah felt the overwhelming desire to give Tyler a hug, or read him a book, he shunned her in favor of me. So, while I know that she loved having me around, the flash of green that sparked in her eyes a few times did not go unnoticed. Quite the contrary, because I can relate.
My return to work Monday was an adjustment for all of us. Although I talked at length with Tyler about it on Sunday, telling him that I had a great time but that I had to back to work the next day, and although he said “yeah” at all the appropriate moments, signaling that we were on the same page, I get the impression that my eighteen month old little man didn’t fully grasp what I was conveying to him. Maybe I should have just said “Daddy work morrow byebye luh-loo.”
It also didn’t help that, due to both work and treacherous roads/weather conditions, I had to spend a night away from home on my first week back. Tyler hadn’t seen me in forty-five hours after having me at his disposal for two weeks. That’s like 8 months of separation, in toddler-years, right?
When I got home – after six hours of white-knuckled driving, mind you – and had given Tyler my undivided attention for the better part of ninety minutes, I made the mistake of thinking I could talk to my wife for a moment or two. Tyler turned his attention to driving his little police car on his road-rug, so I started to tell “HI” Sarah about “HI” my “HI” long day “HI” when Tyler decided that “HI” he absolutely HAD to “HI” talk to me “HI” again. I tried to “HI” talk over him “HI” and continue my “HI” conversation with “HI” Sarah when I finally “HI” had to “HI” bend to Tyler’s will.
“Hi, Tyler. How are you?”
“Ashdin.”
“Oh, did your truck get into an accident?”
“Yeah! Figgst.” He jumped up and ran to his toybox, returning with a tiny toy wrench.
“Are you going to fix it? Yes, good job, Tyler. You are fixing the truck.”
“Yeah,” he said as he pretended to tighten a bolt on the tire. When he finished, he went back to playing. Me, unable to be the better man, unable to just let things go and attempt to finish my conversation with Sarah, waited until he was well into playing with his car. Then, I decided to poke the sleeping bear.
“HI HI HI HI HI HI HI HI,” I said in my best try-to-be-as-annoying-to-Tyler-as-he-was-to-me voice. It worked, too. He turned to look at me.
“HI,” I said again.
Tyler replied flatly, without even a hint of humor, “Done.”
Why you little shit, I thought. Before I could even make an attempt at a reply, Sarah broke into laughter. I joined her. It was good to be home.
Anyone have a spare attitude they can lend us?
Is it considered inappropriate to tell a sixteen month old toddler that he is acting like a dick, and I would be extremely grateful if he would cease in being a dick? I had a less than fantastic day at work today. I spent hours on the phone speaking with customers, quality engineers, and other people that had no desire in making this a great day. This is after having a miserable day yesterday where my wife got mad at me for asking questions about homemade fingerpaint, and I got mad at her for being mad at me for not being able to read minds. Of course, it doesn’t help that I’m diagnosed bi-polar, don’t take meds, and have been dealing with gloomy, cold, rainy, and just generally shitty weather for the last couple days.
When I come home to a delicious dinner that Tyler refuses to eat, yet still says “More more more more more more more dada more more mama more more more,” I just want to scream out YES TYLER! I KNOW YOU WANT MORE EVEN THOUGH THERE IS MORE ALL OVER YOUR *#*@&$ PLATE!
We make excuses for him. He’s teething. He had a short nap. He had a really busy day. He’s teething. He didn’t sleep well last night. He’s teething. The fact is, he’s a toddler that can’t communicate with his parents as much as we both wish he could. He wants what he wants when he wants it, but Tyler just doesn’t have the means to tell us what exactly IT is. Last week, Tyler would say “no” to a question if the answer was no. “No” had one meaning. Today, “no” has multiple meanings. If he’s holding his cup and says “no,” it means Tyler doesn’t want his water anymore. Unfortunately, we didn’t know that’s what he was saying, so he threw a fit about it. God forbid he just set his water down and push it away.
Full disclosure though, it doesn’t really help that Sarah and I are pickers. We pick on each other all the time, and sometimes don’t know when is the WRONG time to pick on Tyler. Tonight, for example, Tyler desperately wanted to wear Sarah’s slippers. Sarah decided to put the slipper on her own foot. Meltdown. In her defense, we have been working with Tyler about sharing, and this seemed like a good time to continue those lessons even though we were already dealing with a tired toddler with maybe less patience than I had. Then he wanted to wear his cowboy boots. Bedtime was approaching shortly, so I told Tyler that he couldn’t wear his boots tonight, and that he’d have to wait until tomorrow. Meltdown. We told Tyler it was time to put away his toys. Meltdown. I looked at Tyler. Meltdown. I inhaled a lungful of oxygen. Meltdown. A butterfly in Oklahoma fluttered its wings. Meltdown.
I’m embarrassed to admit that I said, aloud, that, while I loved being a father, this was not one of those days.
There was a moment that made Sarah and I bust a gut though. We built a tower of mega-bloks (think big Lego blocks). Tyler was in mid-meltdown, so Sarah and I were doing our best to just ignore him. His cries and whines were drilling into my already critically low patience level, sucking any reserves dry. I took some spare mega-blocks and built an airplane. With the power of my imagination, and with guidance from my hand, the plane took flight. It circled the tower and soared the skies. In a moment of desperation, I crashed the plane into the tower, sending blocks scattering across the carpeted floor. I closed my eyes, ashamed that I couldn’t keep my cool just a bit longer. Weren’t we just about at the end of this particular nuclear reaction anyway? Why couldn’t I just hold my breath for a couple more seconds? As I lay on the floor, eyes still closed, Tyler fell silent.
“Mess. Booooom.”
The absolute innocence in his sweet little voice melts my soul. I could never imagine not being Tyler’s father. When he hugs me, kisses me, tells me he loves me, when he runs to me when I get home from work and wraps his arms around my legs saying “daddeee”; when he does these things, I feel so full of love and awe that my eyes swim for a moment. Sometimes I’m so caught off guard by these pure moments that I feel my breath catch and hitch in my chest.
I hope you didn’t come here expecting to laugh your ass off today. I’m a little apprehensive about actually putting this post up for the masses to read, but I guess parenting isn’t all sunshine and lollipops. While I really do enjoy talking about the lighter side of parenting, I also just really needed to get this off my chest.
I’m just not in a good place lately
recent videos
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2010-05-15 - The Army Crawl, and Rock on.mpg -
2010-05-09 - Happy Father's Day, Grandpa -
2010-05-07 - Tyler Reads Books -
2010-05-07 - Tyler plays with Luci and says Muffler -
2010-05-07 - A Mile in Daddy's Shoes -
2010-05-04 - Swinging and Getting Attacked by Delilah -
2010-04-27 - Tyler does Shapes and Objects -
2010-04-11 - Attack of the Tyler Monster -
2010-05-29 Tyler and the snake -
2010-05-09 - Happy Mother's Day, Grandma
View my full YouTube channel by clicking on this link. There, you can view all of the videos I have uploaded, as well as some other gems that make me laugh.
other stuffs
