Tyler’s love of the B.S.
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.
![](http://thegearharts.smugmug.com/photos/535018800_jpVSP-M.jpg")
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.
Stuff You Shouldn’t Be Doing, Tyler
This picture has nothing to do with the content of this blog. Tyler’s teething, so he makes this face a lot.
Tyler has some pretty cool toys. He has this really awesome ball that’s got a plastic monkey perched on the top of it. It makes noises and music when you roll it, and the monkey somehow manages to always stay on top. He has a turtle that counts to four, says shape names, and sings to the tune of an Italian song. He also has a spinning top type toy with animals on it. It sings, counts, lights up, and makes animal sounds.
They’re great toys and, as a bonus to me, aren’t very expensive. I can see how these toys can help to teach things, like cause and effect, and other cool terms that aren’t coming to my mind right now. And Tyler plays with none of them. I try to engage him, I really do. I giggle like a little girl while I bat the monkey ball around, amazed at the monkey’s ability to balance precariously atop the green and blue ball. My acting ability is top notch. I can fool any child under the age of two into believing that I am genuinely delighted by this marvel of a toy. This is, of course, partly because I am genuinely delighted by this marvel of a toy. I want to take it apart and see how this modern-day version of a Weeble Wobble works.
I hope cardboard isn’t unhealthy
Tyler has no such interest. He looks at it – with just a hint of curiousity – for a moment, then proceeds to chew on my slipper. While it’s on my foot. And I don’t stop him. I’ll have to file this post under the “bad parenting” category.
As much as I’ve been praying that Tyler will develop superpowers, and become a real-life superhero, the one thing I do not want is for him to have any psychic powers. I find myself less-than-amused at his innate ability to find everything that he shouldn’t be playing with. If there are ten toys surrounding Tyler, and one of Delilah’s chewed-up ropes, Tyler will see the rope, and only the rope, and he will commence on chewing said rope. Why he has no desire to play with the toys that we paid good money for is beyond the scope of my knowledge. I’m going to become a millionaire by developing a product that will be guaranteed to get any child interested in any item of your choosing. It’s going to be a sticker that simply says, “Keep out of reach of children”. You put that sticker on his least favorite toy, and he’ll never put it down again.
Until I manufacture and market my idea, Sarah and I have to try to stay one step ahead of Tyler. I have a feeling that we will be playing this “game” for years and years to come. If we so much as blink after setting him on the floor, he’ll have a power cord in his mouth. Tyler must think that “no” is a slang term for “awesome work, my dear boy. Your very survival is solely dependent on your eating cords at any and every opportunity”. Tyler’s has 2 other favorite items in our house. One is either a plant stand, or the ivy plant resting upon it; we haven’t determined yet which of the two he is enamored with. He grabs at it every chance he gets. No amount of “no”, or “bad”, or “ucky” will dissuade him from reaching for it. When he does get his paws on it, he slides it closer to him. The sound of the wooden legs sliding across the hardwood floor is like a Klaxon alarm for us. We immediately have to charge after him and start with the calls of “no”, and “we don’t play with that”.
Tyler’s other, and probably more, favorite household item is Delilah’s water dish. I don’t know how to keep him out of it. So far, all he’s interested in is splashing his hand in it, but I’m petrified of what could happen if left to his own devices long enough. I’ve been unable to come up with a solution that allows Delilah to get to her water, but still keeps Tyler away from it. Maybe I could install one of those wireless fence systems in our house. Anytime Tyler goes near the water dish, which will be just outside of the boundary, he will be delivered a high-voltage reminder of his lapse in judgment via a wireless elastic headband. I’m open to ideas, dear readers. In the meanwhile, I’ve got something else I’d like to talk about.
The library group that Sarah and Tyler attend had Valentine’s Day treats on Tuesday. So, Sarah went to the store Monday night (yes babe, I just called you out for waiting until the last minute) to pick up some ingredients. She made a chocolate covered strawberry concoction, and it was delicious. Sarah is very gifted in the kitchen. It’s win-win for me, because she loves to cook and try new things, and I love to eat. The added perk is that I get to be a taste tester when she makes these delicious desserts. If it weren’t for my insane metabolism, I should easily weigh in at 300 or more pounds.
I’ve jumped off track. While Sarah was at the store, I played on the floor with Tyler. He was having a blast knocking over the towers of blocks that I was building. Unfortunately, our floors aren’t very level, so any stacks higher than 6 or 7 blocks is impressive. As I completed one such stack, I turned to Tyler to let him know I needed his destructive assistance. I found myself unable to form words or even thoughts when I looked at him. When thought did finally return, I had trouble deciding on whether I should yell at Tyler, or grab my camera. I decided to do both.
“Tyler!!!”, I yelled, jumping to my feet. “Don’t move! Where’s my camera?”
Yup, he can pull himself up now.
With the help of some living room furniture, Tyler – all by himself – pulled himself to a stand. I didn’t run fast enough, though. When I returned, he was crawling to the tower o’ blocks to demonstrate his skill at unstacking. Fortunately for my “I have to document this” side, and unfortunately for my “he’s growing up too fast” side, Tyler crawled to the entertainment center and pulled himself up, four more times! One of those times, he turned and looked directly into my eyes, and I swear to you that the expression on his face said, “watch this”. Then he just let go and plopped on his butt, and smiled at me.
I really was excited, really, and I expressed it as much as I could to him, with high pitched wows, and saying stuff like “good job” and “that’s my big boy”. But I’m worried that Tyler saw the fear that swam just below the surface of my visible emotions.
Tyler just let go of the only thing holding him up
Played Us Like a Fiddle
Yesterday was Adam’s 30th birthday. Three days ago, on Saturday, was the super secret awards-show style surprise birthday party that his wife had been planning for the previous 4 or 5 months. She rented a conference room at the local Radisson hotel, which we decorated around a red carpet awards show. I won’t delve into her devious planning, and how she was able to arrange for him to be there in a suit, with him none the wiser, but it’s a good story.
I’ve spent the last 2 months (maybe three, I can’t really remember), making a PowerPoint for the event, which became known as “The Non-Annual Quoties Awards”. Adam has the innate ability to watch a movie one time and quote almost the entire thing afterward. As a result, he somehow manages to work movie quotes into everyday conversation, well, everyday. Some are easily worked into a discussion, like “You’re killing me, Smalls”, from “The Sandlot”. Others aren’t nearly as easy, but he pulls it off. It’s a gift, for sure. The meat and potatoes of the PowerPoint went like this. A quote would appear on screen for about 4 seconds. All quotes were lines that Adam has been known to say, many times. Guests would then shout out their guesses for the movie the quote belongs to. Then the movie clip would play. It took two (or more) months, because I had to get the movie from Netflix, if I didn’t already have it, rip it to the computer with one program, compress it to a windows movie file with another, find the quote and mark its start and end frame with yet another program, and extract the segment of movie with a final program. After all the quotes and slides were loaded, I had to rearrange them all into a random order, and set the timing up for the clips. Sound effects, animations, blah blah blah.
The general format of the Quoties slideshow
On Friday, I watched the slideshow about 10 times, and tweaked a few things. Sarah took Tyler to visit a friend that just had a baby, which allowed me to concentrate my time into making these final adjustments. The party was about two hours from us (ah, the joys of moving away from all of one’s friends), so we spent Saturday morning getting everything around and packed up. The difficulty in this was that Tyler was being an absolute nightmare; easily the worst he’s been since he was born. A peek into his mouth during these endless screams revealed the very beginnings of Tyler’s third tooth. His first two teeth were the bottom front teeth. I don’t recall which one is normally the next one to come through – and it’s not worth my time to google it again – but this one wasn’t it. Tyler appears to be copying Maddie, by bringing in his left, upper eye-tooth next (also known as the canine, or the fang tooth).
It really hurts us to see our son in pain. The bigger problem is that we had a party to get to that night. If we were just regular guests (and I’m not being demeaning in saying this), we would have called and canceled. But, the PowerPoint was a very key element to the party. No matter what, the laptop had to get up there and hooked up to the speakers and projector! Sarah’s last nerve was in danger of snapping and she needed a baby-break. So, she went to the store to look at shoes while I tended to the tester-of-sanity.
“Tyler, I don’t know what to do, buddy.”
He continued screaming as the lightbulb clicked on above my head. You know the lightbulb. It’s the one that has the word “idea” curved around the top of the bulb. Sometimes, little lines will come off the word, to show emphasis on the fact that despair has been replaced with a brilliant thought. I searched through the luggage bag that Sarah packed, for the magical tube of Baby Teethers Orajel. I squirted about a half pea sized amount onto my finger and rubbed it onto his gums. For good measure, I handed the tube to him, so he could suck what he wanted to out of it, like an on-demand morphine drip. I’m making that last part up, but it did cross my mind. On a scale of one to a hundred, with one hundred being the best, the effect of the Orajel on Tyler’s pain (as judged by the longevity and pitch of his screams) was about 0.00000001. And that was being generous.
Have you ever watched a movie where the hero was hanging off a cliff by a rope, and the individual threads of the rope started to break and unravel, spelling certain doom for our hero? That’s how I visualized my nerves and patience. Then I heard keys.
“MOMMY’S HOME!”
An angel, surrounded by bright, pure, white light appeared in the doorway, and she was holding a package of Baby Motrin. Berry flavored, no less. I couldn’t read the dosage table, indications and fine print fast enough. Tyler definitely liked the taste of it too, because he looked at me as if asking where the rest of it was.
Further complicating everything else, this was to be the first time that Tyler would be left with a babysitter. Let me clarify, because he’s previously been left in the care of his aunts while Sarah and I went out. This time he was going to be cared for by a complete stranger. We weren’t terribly worried, because this is the same person that watches Adam and Mel’s son, Ben, and they love her. But he was wearing on our patience, and we’re his parents. I had a real fear that she could just lose her temper with Tyler.
We drove up to Kalamazoo and parked at a “For Sale” house just around the corner from Adam’s and Mel’s. At 6:09p, they pulled out and turned the other way. I said “It’s go time” and quickly drove to their house, unloaded the supplies and hopped into Mel’s SUV to go to the Radisson. Before I left, I told the babysitter to please be patient with our grumpy baby and call us for anything. Sarah was sticking around for another 20 minutes to go over all the details with her.
Fast forward about 90 minutes. We were all setup and waiting for Adam and Mel to arrive from their dinner date to the surprise party. All the guests were lined up on the “red carpet” with their cameras. They were instructed to act as paparazzi for the guest of honor. Problem is, the guest of honor and his wife were running late, so every time I walked back into the room to update them (Melanie was sending Sarah text messages while Sarah spied from the halls of the hotel, looking for them) the guests all looked up, ready to yell and start taking pictures. All I saw were the looks of disappointment when they saw that it was just me. Truthfully, during one of my entrances, they expressed a collective sigh of disappointment, which was a mixture of “uhhh”, deep exhalations, and “come on”. It’s great for ones pride and ego.
Finally we got the message. “We’re in the hotel. Adam’s going to the bathroom.” Sarah and I ran into the room and told them to take their places. When they walked in, flashes were going off everywhere as I faded in AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck”.
“What are you wearing?”, “Who did your eyebrows?”, and “Where the hell have you been?” were just a few of the comments I could hear over the music, as I was crouched right next to the speakers. The speech, the PowerPoint, and the surprise couldn’t have gone any better. After the “awards” portion, we all started to mingle and talk and drink. There was a table setup with theatre sized boxes of candy, and a popcorn machine next to the beverage table. Sarah sent me into the hall to check her voicemail since there was no reception in the room that the party was in.
“You have 1 new message, and 2 old messages”, piped the recorded, emotionless female voice.
“Hi Sarah, this is Jaime…”
My heart jumped. Could Tyler really have been so bad that she had to call us? Why didn’t I pay attention to when the message was received? How long ago was this?
“… I just wanted to let you know that Tyler…”
Seriously? Talk faster, woman! Get to the point!
“… is sound asleep. He’s been great tonight. He did start to get a little fussy, so I read him a book and put him to bed, and he went right to sleep…”
I stood there, with Sarah’s pink phone to my ear in stunned silence as she continued her message about Tyler’s angelic behavior. The boy that seemed to be possessed by the darkest demons just 12 hours ago? I could feel the walls start to close in on me as I realized that my son is a two faced liar, and he played us like a fiddle. How could I ever have sympathy for Tyler and his Crocodile tears again? Little faker.
“… press 7. To save this message, press 9.”
Snapping back to reality, I pressed 9 and folded the phone closed. Sarah’s mouth made an audible thud as it hit the floor when I relayed the message. I told her that I saved the message because I knew she wouldn’t believe me.
Breaking Ground
Tyler doesn’t cry very much.
When a person is reading something, in print or on screen, it’s difficult to always know what emotion is the author is trying to convey. If you knew Tyler to be a major screamer and crier, and you read that first line, you’d say to yourself, “wow… that Joe is so witty. He’s being sarcastic, and I find that to be quite funny.” So, let me be clear. Tyler doesn’t cry very much. Scouts’ honor. Honest Abe. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.
He’s only 5 months old, so his favored form of communication is crying. Luckily for us, he rarely – if ever – cries for no reason. He used to go bonkers when he was hungry, screaming like it was the end of all mankind, and his only chance for survival was some breastmilk within the next nanosecond or two. I wouldn’t pass him off to Sarah until he calmed down though. I think it drove Sarah crazy, because it made her sad to hear Tyler cry. As soon as Tyler calmed down, I’d give him right to Sarah for some nursies. I hesitate to call it “tough love”, mostly because I absolutely adore the little monster, but I want him to understand that screams will not get rewarded. I’m not sure if Tyler’s non-crying demeanor is just a trait of his, or if it’s a result of how Sarah and I responded to his screaming. He does get fussy when he’s hungry, or tired, or needs changing, or wants attention, or if Delilah has licked his face a little too much. And I have no problem with this. He’s been starting his hand/arm gestures recently too. He reaches out for us, he pulls my head close to his when I’m holding him, he hugs Sarah’s head when she’s snuggling him, he pets Delilah (and sometimes grabs and squeezes her fur and face), and he pushes her away when she’s being a pest. It’s a fantastic transition, and a sad one. But hand and arm gestures aren’t my concern today; screaming is.
Tyler’s first tooth has just pushed through his gums. His front, bottom, slightly-to-the-left tooth is making its grand entrance to the world. If you look closely at the picture (click to view it larger), you’ll see it in there. To say that I’m elated would be an overstatement, and to say that I’m saddened would be a huge understatement. I think it’s great that my little baby is growing, but I also think it’s the saddest thing in the world that my little baby is growing. It’s only been 5 months, and it’s only felt like 3 or 4 days. Sarah noticed it a few days ago. His gums were a little swollen, and he’s been grumpy with breastfeeding. Last Tuesday, he grabbed my finger and shoved it in his mouth. When he bit down, I felt it!! His first tooth broke through. *sigh*
As a result, Tyler is screaming. I don’t remember what it felt like when I was teething 29.8 years ago, but I’m sure it didn’t feel good. He’s not screaming because he’s unhappy. He’s screaming because he’s – presumably – in legitimate pain. And THAT is breaking my heart. Thank the heavens above for baby Oragel, or whatever off brand it was that we bought. “Little Teethers” or something like that. I’ve heard of people rubbing whiskey on a baby’s gums to soothe the pain, and I’d be lying if I told you that it never crossed my mind. I’ve got a couple different flavors to choose from, and contemplated doing a double blind taste test with Tyler, to see if he preferred a Tennessee blend over a Canadian mix. Sarah would send me to the morgue in a body bag if I got Tyler liquored up, so we’ve got the Benzocain to numb his aching gums instead.
I’m sad that Tyler’s teething, I’m horrified that this is only the first of 20 baby teeth. But the worst is hearing his screams. It makes my heart hurt. It’s time to make sure we’ve got teething rings in the fridge, wet wash cloths in the freezer, and be prepared to do a lot of gum massaging.
And just as things start to get better, Tyler starts screaming again. I looked into his mouth today, and see that his first tooth’s neighbor is breaking ground as well. What was once nothing but a desolate, gummy pasture is quickly turning into a booming subdivision, and all the lots are being purchased at a record rate. One tooth has moved in, and the second has secured its lot. Before I have time to blink, all 20 lots will be purchased and in the building phase. Due to a mortgage crisis in a few more years, those teeth will be evicted, making room for a more permanent residency.
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
