The life and times of an irrational father. One man, multiple personalities.
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On having a sick child

November 12th, 2009 | Posted by Joe in frustration | sick Tyler | Tyler - (8 Comments)

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The good thing about having a child with a low-grade fever and a cough is that you can teach him how to cover his mouth when coughing. It’s so cute.

The bad thing about having a child with a low-grade fever and a cough is EVERYTHING ELSE!!!

Get well soon, Tyler. You’re driving your parents crazy. I fear that one of us is going to snap soon *cough*Sarah*cough* and injure the other *cough*me*cough*.

Pre-post but post-draft edit: Fever is gone and Tyler’s on his way towards being a happy toddler again. On his way… not quite there.

Tiny holes for tiny straws

June 8th, 2009 | Posted by Joe in sad | scared | sick Tyler | superhero | surgery - (3 Comments)

 
Tyler has surgery tomorrow, June 10th, 2009.

I know I lied about this once before*, but I’m serious this time. Tyler needs real surgery.

After three courses of antibiotic treatments, some chiropractic visits, probiotic supplements and crossed fingers, Tyler’s ear digging continues.

At his last appointment, our doctor grimaced when she looked into his ears. She referred us (I say "us", but I was working, so it was Sarah and Tyler) to an ENT (ear, nose and throat specialist) who got us in for a same-day consultation. After reviewing Tyler’s history with Sarah, he took a peek into Tyler’s ears and the decision was made.

I can’t say I’m surprised, because Sarah had multiple ear surgeries as a child, and her dad also had ear problems as a youngster. So, deep down, I had a feeling fear that we would end up down this road.

The surgery itself isn’t a very big deal. The surgeon will cut a tiny, tiny hole in each eardrum, then place a tiny, tiny straw into each hole. This will then allow air into his ears so that the goop in there can dry up and/or drain out. Going under the knife before he’s even a year old is unfortunate, but necessary. The "knife" part isn’t what concerns me; it’s the "going under" part. The very day that the ENT tells us Tyler needs surgery, I see this article online. If you don’t want to read the article, here’s a snippet:

Now a new study from the Mayo Clinic, published on March 24 in the journal Anesthesiology, finds a link between exposure to anesthesia during surgery in infancy and learning disabilities later in life — the first such study to do so in humans — making the decision to operate even more fraught for both parents and doctors.

The article goes on to say that this is very preliminary data, and that they aren’t sure if there is a definitive link or if there’s just an association. Essentially, the takeaway from the article is "don’t worry… yet."

There’s nothing I can do about it, and I know it seems trivial to worry over something as simple as getting ear tubes, but I suspect that’s all part of being a parent.

I wonder if I can talk the surgeon into injecting some type of superhuman powers into Tyler… just a thought.

* I’m happy to report that Tyler looks like a tiny me again. Viva la Joe’s genetic sequence!

He was tired, so he rubbed his eyes

May 26th, 2009 | Posted by Joe in allergies | photos | sick Tyler - (3 Comments)

I currently have extremely limited internet access. I’ve got fingers crossed to have that fixed today, but in the meanwhile, I’ll post a couple pictures. Truth be told, we aren’t sure exactly what’s happening, but we’re pretty sure this is what happens when you rub sunscreen in your eye. If any of you have any other thoughts, I’d love to hear them.

All said, Tyler seemed to be really happy, save for the red eye and rash around it.

Tyler’s love of the B.S.

May 12th, 2009 | Posted by Joe in adventures in babydom | blogging | laughing | sick Tyler | teething | Tyler - (2 Comments)


I’m not entirely sure why I haven’t blogged lately. I can’t exactly say it’s been a lack of inspiration because Tyler is doing new, funny things just about every day. Is there such a thing as blogger’s block? Like writer’s block, but I am far from a writer. With the nicer weather, we (the family) have all been outside a lot more, which lessens the time I spend on the computer. Officially, and publicly, I’m saying it’s a lack of time. Privately, I just feel like I don’t have the "words" for what I want to say.

Tyler’s got a bunch of green goo coming out of his nose. He isn’t acting sick, at all, so we’re operating under the assumption that he’s teething. Since babies are essentially in a perpetual state of teething for the first few years of their lives, I could be both right and wrong in our diagnosis. Unfortunately, Tyler HATES getting his face washed. More than that, hate is a severe understatement of how he feels about getting his nose wiped off. He screams until there isn’t an iota of oxygen left in his tiny lungs. I sometimes wonder if he’ll forget to breathe. It’s around that time that he sucks air in, and repeats his lung-draining yells for Child Protective Services to come and save him from the evil, nose-cleansing washrag of doom.


At the opposite end of the spectrum, Tyler LOVES the blue bulb that I call the "booger sucker". It resembles a turkey baster in both appearance and function. The two primary differences are that the booger sucker is much shorter than a turkey baster, and the booger sucker sucks boogers out of a baby’s nose, whereas a turkey baster has no affiliation with boogers… unless you’re using it incorrectly. As a side note, our turkey baster has served other purposes than just squirting turkey juices on a cooking turkey. It is currently stained a shade of red, because Sarah used it to make Jell-O shots at one point for a work-outing that I attended a few years ago.

The origins of Tyler’s love of the booger sucker are unknown. When I’ve previously used it, I would make weird noises and laugh in the hopes that Tyler would tolerate its infiltration into his nostrils. It worked, to an extent. Recently, while, uhh…. expelling Tyler’s nose treasure onto a paper towel, it make a very sickening slurping noise. Hearing it makes Sarah’s stomach turn. I’m not a fan of the noise, but I can handle it. Tyler started laughing his little butt off at the sound. Since then, I’ve made quite the ordeal of blowing the snot onto a papertowel. The level of joy in his laughter is directly proportional to the amount of drama I put into the action. The best responses come when I act as if it takes every ounce of strength in my body to dislodge the yellow-green blockage from the neck of the booger sucker. If this results in the nasty slurping sound, Tyler is even more joyed and doubles his laughter. It’s now at the point where he starts laughing as soon as he sees the mucous evacuation device in my hands.

My current goal is to try to get the same reaction from Tyler while washing his face. And why not? I like taking on the impossible tasks. So far, not so good. Try as I might, the evil, nose-cleansing washrag of doom is just as evil as it ever was. Sound effects be damned, Tyler hates the rag monster.

Note: After typing this post out and before pressing the “Publish” button, Sarah informs me that she’s got a sore throat and a runny nose. So, it looks as if Tyler’s less-than-awesome attitude and his green goo situation may have indeed been due to being sick. Sorry, little one; we honestly thought you were teething.

Second note: See the medicine in the background of the booger sucker picture? Yeah, Tyler’s right ear was in really bad shape when he went to the doctor. His left ear looked great, but the doctor "winced” when she looked at his right ear. The words “red” and “bulging” were used. He’s got three weeks to get better. After that, she’s referring us to an ENT (Ear, Nose and Throat) Specialist.

Take Me to Your Leader

April 21st, 2009 | Posted by Joe in chancellor gearhart | irrational dad | milestones | poor Sarah | sick Tyler | Tyler - (6 Comments)


Ladies and gentlemen, I proudly present to you the new Supreme Chancellor of our household… JOE!!!! Henceforth, he shall be titled as Chancellor Gearhart!

* Waves of deafening applause. *

Something happened last Friday while I was sitting on the couch next to Sarah. She had Tyler in her lap, facing her, and she was eating his neck fat. It’s one of the great things we’ve discovered about parenthood; nibbling on your baby’s neck. The entire neck is quite delectable, but the sweet spot is just under the chin. Whenever he tilts his head back and exposes that area, we dive in like the vampire Lestat on a family he’s been stalking for years. This is one of (air quotes) those things (air quotes) that makes the frustrating aspects of parenthood worth every lost wink.

"Hi, I’m Billy Mays, and I’m here to talk to you about an amazing new product. Baby Neck Fat! Just sprinkle a little on this grape juice stain and watch it disappear! Did your son just knock over a plant, spilling the dirt and water onto your nice floor? Just nibble a little of the Baby Neck Fat and your frustrations are forgotten! If you call and order in the next five minutes, I’ll throw in the bonus Chubby Baby Feet, but that’s not all! I’ll also throw in a Baby Smile that will melt your heart, along with the frustrations caused by any of your baby’s less-than-desirable actions. That’s a sixty dollar value for only $19.95. Call and order now!"

If you’re a parent, you already know the power of baby neck fat. If you’re expecting, you’ll experience it for yourself soon. If you’re neither, you’ll just have to take my word for it.

After a few minutes of watching my wife enjoy the fruits of baby neck fat, I said to Tyler, "Can you say ‘da-da’?"

Tyler immediately and effortlessly replied, "Da-da."

Sarah paused, just long enough for me to know she heard it, then tried to PRETEND THAT IT NEVER HAPPENED! Sarah tried to continue her little routine of drawing Tyler forward by his arms and going "nom nom nom" on his neck. The audacity!

"Don’t you dare pretend that you didn’t just hear him say that!"

I know what she was thinking. Nobody else heard Tyler say it, so she could pretend that it didn’t happen. If I start bragging to my friends and family (and my blog) about it Sarah could, theoretically, say that she heard no such thing.

"Dude, Tyler totally said ‘Da-da’ last week. It was awesome man! Sarah, you heard it, tell him."

Twirling her finger around her ear in the "he’s got a screw loose" gesture, Sarah replies, "The only thing I remember Tyler doing is farting when you said that to him. I think you need more sleep, you’re losing it."

Sarah knows that if she denied it long enough, I’d eventually start to believe the lie myself. I’d doubt my own memory and wonder if I only dreamed the entire thing. But just a few days later, I had a witness to Tyler’s "da-da." Yesterday, we went to see Dr. Nagel to get Tyler adjusted again. He hit Tyler a couple times in the back and in the neck with the Activator (or actuator… he just told me the name of the tool yesterday and I’ve already forgotten what it was), and lay Tyler down to do some manual release on his neck. Tyler did quite well during the appointment and made me quite proud at his mostly passive demeanor. He did grow frustrated after a few minutes of the manual release, because he doesn’t like laying down unless he’s sleeping. Tyler would much rather crawl around, knock things over and just stay active. At the end of all this, I picked Tyler up and held him as Lee talked about ear infections, probiotics, and follow-up. Whispering into Tyler’s ear, I said, "Can you say… da-da?"

"Da-da."

And Lee heard it. I’m surprised there was enough space in the room we were in for Lee, Sarah, Tyler, myself, and my huge ego. Oh, and the green monster of jealousy that was trying to squeeze its way in. If we didn’t already know that Lee was married with children, it would have been made quite apparent to us from what he said next.

"Well, words like da-da and ba-ba are easier for a baby to say than ma-ma."

Picking up on his noble attempt at easing the tension in the room, I added, "Yeah, so when he does say ‘ma-ma’, you’ll know that he’s really trying."

I don’t remember exactly what Sarah said, but her eyes said "whatever." She wasn’t really upset, but we’re like every other parent in that each mommy wants their baby to say "ma-ma" first, and each daddy wants their baby to say "da-da" first. He said "da-da", which means that I win, right? In Sarah’s defense, I couldn’t tell you if Tyler knows that I’m da-da or if he’s just saying it because he can. I suspect he hasn’t associated that word with me yet, but he will soon enough.

Soon enough…