Down with the Sickness

I remember being sick as a kid as a somewhat enjoyable experience. People give you lots of attention, you get to lay around, watch TV and hot soup is yours for the asking. Now, being sick as an adult with responsibilities is terrible. Because you can't not (nice double negative) take care of some things - key work assignments, life obligations and helping care for your child. It is exhausting.

Up until this year, I have only get one unseasonal summer cold each year. I typically take lots of vitamins, lay low for two days and it is gone. I have been sickly since Valentine's Day, and I blame Benjamin. He has been sickly too, so I think we keep rubbing our sickness on each other through random wrestling and smooching. Oh, and we share the same pacifier.

Dealing with a sick baby is not ideal, but doable. Dealing with a well-baby while you're sick, not fun. Both of you sick? Terrible. Combine my ear infection, which totally messes with my hearing, and Benjamin's loud wail of discomfort and you have the real March Madness. I crave some kind of hibernation technology where I can go to sleep and wake up refreshed, Benjamin is better and my biceps are stronger. I can show you some preliminary drawings I have on cocktail napkins.

One thing that is interesting about having a sick baby, is that they are still really cute. They are super-cuddly and want to be held, and they have a cute-glum look on their face that says, "I-dun-feel-soo-gud..." Benjamin sneezed the other day and he blew a little snot bubble out of his nostril. If I saw you do it, it would be so disgusting. But to see him do it, it was cute as kittens. There is nothing cute, however, about sick baby diapers. Nothing.

The one-upside to this is that Benjamin loves taking medicine, to the point where he whimpers when the eyedropper of fake-cherry serum is empty. So when he gets older we plan on giving him a bottle of 'Tussin for his birthday.

Happy Birthday Benjamin!

February 13th marked the one year mark for young master Benjamin. Being 1-years old, we was oblivious of the the significance of the date and gave no speeches that regaled his first year of life. So I wrote one for him taking some educated guesses at what he wanted to say.

"Greetings friends, and salutations to my family. Let me first thank you all for taking time out of your busy lives to celebrate me completing one of your Earth years. Why, it seems like only yesterday that I emanated from my mother's womb covered in humanity, and stared upon my gracious and extremely good looking parents. These two people, who for simplicity I will call "Mom" and "Dad", have sacrificed greatly to get me where I am today.

I look back at pictures of myself when I was first born and I hardly remember that kid, I was so young and naive. But now I'm pretty self-sufficient - except for feeding, drinking, diapering, bathing, dressing and walking. Baby steps, people, baby steps.

I would also like to thank all of my extended family and babysitters for giving me the highest level of care possible, outside of that Super Nanny woman or Mary Poppins. I cherish all of those moments that you sneak me soda pop and candy while my parents are away doing whatever it is they do. I would also like to thank Pampers - you are truly the superior diaper that lovingly cradles my bo-hiney.

I leave you with this, who's the cutest baby in the world and has two thumbs? This guy! I now realize this joke would have made more sense in person so you could see me pointing to myself with my two thumbs. I'll work on the delivery before I turn 2. Thank you for coming, drive safe and goodnight."

My personal sidenote is that I felt like Kindergarten Cop during the party to make sure kids weren't killing themselves or pulling up our hardwoods - "Dher horribull..."

Snip, Snip, Sniff

There is a first for everything and it was time for Benjamin's 1st Haircut. Emily and I had grown tired of reading in between the lines of people's comments like, "Oh, look at THAT hair..." or "Poor little guy, he's got hair in his eyes" or "He looks like a baby Blagojevich!" We actually thought his longer hair was cute and endearing, plus we had a business model put into place for creating Baby Toupees.

He is approaching his first birthday so we felt the time was now to embark on this rite of passage. After a little investigation we found three business chains that specialize in cutting kid's hair. By the way, that seems so American that we need baby salons AND that there is enough demand and profit to support three different chains. U-S-A!

The correct name of the place we picked escapes me, but it was something to the effect of "cOOl Kutz 4 Kydz" - the more mispelled the kooler, right? This place looked more like a daycare than a barbershop - video game consoles buzzing, Playskool toys strewn about and the distinct smell of bubble gum and fear filled the air. Obviously the theory goes that if your kid is distracted enough with bells and whistles, they won't shriek like a banshee during the haircut. I doubt a licensed sociologist came up with this theory, but it works.

A couple of weeks before the haircut, I posited the question to Emily, "what is it about a haircut that freaks kids out?" If it was the fear of the scissors, I recommended holding a pair of scissors in our hands while we fed Benjamin in his highchair, you know, to get him more comfortable around them. This was vetoed for reasons unknown. My other cause of our kid's fear, I think, is us. In our efforts to make it special or memorable, it looks less like a haircut and more of a coronation of the Chosen One.

Despite our own hype, Benjamin did really well during the whole process. He sat in a customized fire truck chair and was thoroughly intrigued by a comb, I think he was also wondering why there is a "b" in the word. The only part of the experience that stirred his pot was getting spritzed with water to wet his hair. After that he got back into his exploration of his comb, nearly oblivously of me taking over 120 pictures with my new camera. I think I'm turning Japanese.

After the cut was done and his hair dried, I looked at him and saw a version of myself from 1978 staring right back at me. The "Bowl Cut" was all the rage when I was kid and when you have super straight hair like myself (and Benjamin) there aren't too many cut options. Looking at him, it was evident that after a few snips he had gone from baby to little boy. Our onesie wearing baby with crazy hair had passed the baton on to this penny-loafer wearing toddler.

This moment of recognition of childhood's fleet-footedness almost got a tear out of me, luckily the $28 bill for the "1st Haircut Package" slapped me back to reality. Seriously? I could have performed the 6 scissor snips myself. It's not like they were stylish snips, it looked like she was cutting constuction paper with safety skizzors. I'm trying to talk Benjamin into starting a baby mullet trend or to become a really artsty baby whose in touch with his inner-inner child.

That or I'll just fire up the Xbox, grab a mixing bowl and start up "Dalez HaiR-Do's 4 Childrenz"

The Little Gremlin

There are two things roaming the floors of our house on all-fours: Schmax and Benjamin. Benjamin has quickly become mobile and very proficient at his quasi-crawl. He doesn't do the typical forward, left-right-left-right crawl; it is more of sideways hopping-a-fence type maneuver.

When he does it once, it looks completely wrong and he appears disabled. But then he gets going and moves like the wind, it borders on watching someone walk and break dance at the same time. His new found mobility has forced the "baby-proofing" of our house. I put it in quotes because no amount of store bought goods can turn your house into a completely safe environment, unless you coated it in Nerf®.

I put off "baby-proofing" for as long as I could for two reasons: 1.) I'm not the handiest of people, I'll eventually get things right on the third or ninth time. 2.) Dealing with safety latches/covers/gates is a nuisance. Yes - I want to keep Benjamin safe, but I also wish you could simply explain to a 1-year old why you shouldn't drink Windex® (although it does look like delicious blue-razberry juice).

His new favorite place is on the kitchen floor, because that's where we are. Emily and I trying to prepare or clean up after a meal now looks like a couple's ice skating routine - constantly moving, cognizant of our footing, and wearing matching unitards. At some point during our figure-8's I'll need to quickly grab a dishtowel from a drawer and CLACK - the safety latch catches. So I skin my finger for not remembering the latch was there - it's like penance.

We did opt to not baby-proof one of the lower drawers so he can explore. He used to sit there quietly and gawk at his treasure trove of goodies. Now he treats it like a challenge to empty it out as quickly as possible. He doesn't even look at what's in his hand, he just chucks it aside like a little Gremlin.

Remember them from the movie? They were always getting into something and in a nano-second they will have some how completely dismantled it. What used to be machinery is reduced to nuts and bolts. This is Benjamin now. He is attracted to phones, remote controls, DVD cases and books. It also amazes me how his random button pushes will unlock functions on our remotes or phones that we didn't even know existed. I kid you not, he had the remote for 12 seconds and he some how turned on Spanish subtitles - no me gusta.

I do have a new favorite thing to do with him now that he can scoot around - The Chase. What is it about a chase that excites us humans? It's scary, yet exhilarating. We don't want to get caught, but we want to get caught.

I'll get down on all fours and stick my head out down the hall. Benjamin sees this and, smiles and scrambles away. If I don't chase, he pokes his head out and scoots down where he saw me last, I then lunge out and send him into a gleeful panic. The plot isn't very deep, but he eats it up. I feel like that is the first signature thing that he and I have created. And since his birthday is Friday the 13th this year, I think I'm going to perform The Chase in a hockey mask. I hope he appreciates the movie reference.

Sleeping with the Fishes

I've pondered and asked fellow kid-havers this question - what is the perfect age to start taking your kids to see/do stuff? In pre-Benjamin excursions I would see families dragging a newborn to the zoo/amusement park/state fair and wonder why this poor blob of a baby wasn't clapping and dancing a jig. But on the other end of the spectrum, I would see parents trying to make memories with their elementary school kids who were too busy playing their Nintendo DS to even give an apathetic roll of the eyes.

My unscientific study has pegged the sweet spot at 4-8 years old. This window of time is where you and your kids are getting the most out of the family excursion to zoos, caverns, rodeos, Disney World®. There are of course some things like amusement parks that have a wider span, but the 4-8 period is where it is fun for everyone and the kids are big enough to participate - in my completely unsubstantiated opinion.

We have gone and seen some things in the past year with Benjamin, but it had always been Emily and Dale taking in the sights - oh, and we have a baby with us. Benjamin is 11 months now and his mind has shifted into "sponge mode" where he is curious about everything. So we spontaneously hopped in the car a few weekends ago and went to the Dallas World Aquarium - side note it was about 80 degrees at the beginning of January. Take THAT East Coast!

It has been about 15 years since I have been to an aquarium, and a majority of my experiences were overseas in Asia. So things that are exotic here in Dallas were like catfish over there. And I've always known aquariums to be 90% fish, 10% not-fish. The aquarium here is about 40% fish, 30% birds, 20% mammals, and 10% gift shops.

So what did Benjamin think about it? Well, his reaction was valuable data in my query above about "how young is too young." He was still too young to really get into it. There were times where sea otters are practically doing a hip-hop dance routine and Benjamin was more fascinated by the ponytails of a girl standing next to us. The aquarium has a free roaming sloth on display, which by the way is one of THE most bizarre species on the planet, I held Benjamin right up to Mr. Sloth and the look on Benjamin's face read, "Eh, what else you got?" He also didn't get any of my Goonies references.

There were a small handful of moments in the main open atrium where birds and monkeys are flying/swinging back and forth that got Benjamin to perk up. One bird actually buzzed us and took roost on a pillar about 2 feet from a very cautious Benjamin. He looked at it, looked at us, looked at it again, and did the swatting motion with his arms for us to make it go away - so I shot it. With my camera.

The best part for me was interacting with Benjamin - pointing stuff out to him and being excited during those moments where he got excited too. I looked at it as nice foreshadowing for those future family outings where he is digging on the surroundings. His babyness did kick in at the end - sleepy, hungry, just done. Which shifts the way you look at exhibits from "Wow, look at the intricate colored striping on this Guatemalan Tree Frog!" to "Yeah, yeah shark, blah, blah stingrays."

I did have a daydream moment (I have these graphic hypotheticals often) when we were looking at this hu-mong-ous alligator. The display was pretty open and we were looking down, so this nightmare scenario began with me turning one direction and turning back only to find that Benjamin had some how made it into the gator cage. My solution was to throw the stroller down into the sand in front of the alligator, grab the nearby fire extinguisher and jump the barrier. You see the stroller would confuse the gator and delay his frontal assault, giving me time to get down there and spray his maw with the flame retardant chemicals, therein blinding him long enough for Benjamin and I to make our escape. The back up plan was to jump around his muzzle and hold the gators mouth shut, rodeo style until someone helped Benjamin out. Hopefully now you will never question my parenting skills. Well, at least not my hypothetical skills.

The Holidays

Part of me doesn't even want to write this, because I may come off as sounding too negative or down on the holidays. But I stand by my unspoken mission statement that I will straight-shoot people and peers about what having a kid is like. Despite the bill of goods I was given, which read something to the effect of "kids are nothing but lollipops and magical memories for you to experience with no personal cost."

Having a kid will reshape you and open your eyes to your own selfishness. Not selfish as in material things, but the intangibles - "time" and "your way of doing things". I am fortunate enough to get 2 weeks off during the holidays from work, and I have filled that time in year's past with reading, watching, playing and doing taxes (I know, I'm sick). This year had a totally different complexion with Benjamin - there was time to spend good quality and fun moments with him for sure. But there were other times I just wanted to pack him up and put him somewhere so I could go have some different kinds of fun. Basically compartmentalizing my child.

Half way through the break I threw a 48-hour pity party for myself and then came to terms with the evolution my life has undergone. Another positive to come from this temporary trough was that I want us to do more "fun" things. Emily and I are always busy, but it is doing routine stuff to maintain the status quo. I have created this legalistic dogma of doing work until it is done, and then and only then do I allow myself some fun. I lose, Emily loses and Benjamin will definitely lose if I keep that up. His childhood memories will be filled with Dad sweeping the house, grocery shopping and folding clothes. Not exactly Kodak moments.

For me, everything stated above is the best thing I got out of the holidays - it was a stretching process. Benjamin's first Christmas was not the storybook Christmas that Emily and were expecting. He actually got sick on Christmas Eve, which made for a rough day(s). He wasn't himself at all, wanted to be held and didn't really get into any of the gifts or the paper/boxes that they came in. His sickness also forced us to cancel some plans with friends (catalyst for my pity party) and for some reason I couldn't wait to take down the decorations around the house.

We did get together with our families for some fun times and it was neat to see Benjamin playing with his cousins and forming those bonds. I told myself that next year will be different when he is a little bigger a little more mobile and hopefully a lot less sick. But until then I look forward to creating more frequent events for the Alexander family to go do and experience. We have already kicked this new way of life off with a spontaneous trip to the Aquarium last weekend, and then I came home and did some housework. Hey, it takes a while for a leopard-seal to change his spots.

The World's Most Annoying Sound

(Yeah, yeah, yeah...make with the posts. December was a rough month and my time off didn't really seem like time off. More to come soon, I think I'm going to go for shorter more frequent posts)

Have you seen "Dumb and Dumber"? There's a scene where Jim Carrey's character (Lloyd Christmas) is on a road trip with a stranger and he asks the guy if he wants to hear the world's most annoying sound. He then lets out this grating, tinny sound that drives you crazy. I am pleased to report that Benjamin has become the new champion of annoying sounds.

He is capable of a noise that's hard for me to physically replicate. It's a mix of a cry, a yelp, a frustrated grunt and a malfunctioning clock radio alarm. And he does it...all...the...time. The first couple of times you hear it you rush over to help him do whatever he is doing. Then you realize he's doing it for effect and attention. So then you ignore it - ignore as much as you can a bombing raid or a train locomoting behind your house. I think I've mentioned before that our house echoes too, so that amplifies the noise and sends it directly into our eardrums.

Needless to say, I love him lots but I can't wait for him to talk.