Tyler had his first Oreo cookie last week. I would prefer that he not be given “grown up” foods yet, as he’s only 7 months old, but it’s a type of tradition with Sarah’s family. When the first tooth comes in, and baby can sit up on his own, he’s ready for his first cookie. I’ve learned the art of “choosing your battles”, so I just grabbed the camera, knowing there would be some gems in there. If you would like to browse all of the Oreo pictures, they start here. For those of you that don’t want to look at picture after picture after picture, here are a couple highlights.

The first step is to give the baby a cookie, and then get very far away.

At first, I thought it would go relatively well. I found myself wondering why Sarah took all his clothes off, and had him in only a diaper.

It almost looked as if he wanted to see what he looked like with a mustache.

It was when Tyler started drooling that I started getting grossed out. He had dark brown drool flowing down his chin, neck, chest, and stomach.

Tyler’s chubby hands were equally filthy.

Yeah, all down his chest and belly.

Tyler seemed to thoroughly enjoy this new, sugary food.

Sarah tried volunteering me for bathtime. I told her she was out of mind, because the Oreo fiasco was not my idea. As a last ditch attempt, she said that it wasn’t hers either. I told her it was HER family’s tradition, not mine. She realized I wasn’t going to budge, and grabbed the filthy baby.

Luckily for everyone involved, Tyler cleans up nicely.

We spent this past weekend at Mel and Ad’s cottage. It’s about a block from a lake. The basic agenda was to sit around, play at the beach, go out on the boat, go tubing and go skiing. We stuck pretty well to that plan.

I rarely get in the water. This is due to an unnatural fear of water/swimming that I have. When I was much younger (I dunno, 6 years old maybe), my dad decided he was going to teach me how to swim. We were at a beach. He was supporting my body by having both of his hands under the water with me lying on top of them. I was extremely nervous at the time. I remember, very clearly, telling him to not let go. He said, and I quote, “I won’t let go.”

He let go.

No warning, no easing his hands away. Suddenly, the support was gone, and I was going under. As a very young, impressionable, child, I quickly fell into a blood-chilling panic.

For about the next 18 years, I wouldn’t go into water any deeper than my waist. I worked up the courage to go to my neck.

3 years ago, we were hanging with Mel and Ad on their boat. Of course, the pressure was on me (again) to get into the water. I somehow found the strength to put on a life jacket and go to the edge of the boat. Adam tells me to just step off. The then GUARANTEES me that my head would not go under the water. After another 3 or 5 minutes of worrying and just standing there… I step off…

And go under the water. @$$%*&#

That quickly led to me going tubing and having a BLAST. This year, I actually got up on skis and did pretty well. I wouldn’t dare get in the water (if it’s over my head) without a life jacket, but I’m making progress. I also went tubing while facing backwards on the tube (Adam’s idea) and it was a friggin’ riot!

I don’t want Tyler to think his daddy’s a wuss-monger or anything, so I may have adjusted the truth a little bit. I scooped him up in my arms and told him about my death-defying stunts. I told him about the flips I was doing, and about catching about 15 foot of air on a jump. I felt a tinge of guilt as I told him my modified story. I’ll have to make sure to delete this post when he learns to read.

Now for a totally unrelated topic. Today finds me in Peoria, Illinois, sitting in a Holiday Inn hotel room. I was asked to come out so that I can demonstrate some stuff for bunch of people tomorrow… blah blah blah, work stuff. It was about 6 hours of driving. Fun times. Well, yesterday, I picked up a new GPS. I got the Garmin nuvi 205. Aside from telling me how to get from point A to point B, it also can store photos and display a slideshow. FINALLY, I can look at pics while I’m driving all over the place.

Well, while I was driving on the toll road, I turned on the slideshow to check it out. Up comes a picture of Tyler on the day he was born (7 weeks ago). He was born at 10 pounds 2 ounces, which is pretty frickin big. Looking at the picture, though, I couldn’t help but think of how SMALL he looked. He looks tiny, even though he looked gigantor at the time.

BIG BOY (See the gallery)

I certainly don’t remember him growing, but he seems to have done it anyway. I don’t think I’m a fan of this. It’s happening way too fast. The boy weighs 15 pounds now, and isn’t even 2 months old. Our dreams of him becoming a University of Michigan kicker, then an NFL kicker are turning into dreams of him becoming a UofM linebacker, then an NFL linebacker. I’m sure he’ll eventually grow into all his extra rolls and extra necks and extra chins though… right?

Look at him… he’s got moobs (sometimes lovingly referred to as man-boobs, or chesticles)