Baby talk.

I used to be amazed when I would talk to a kid that couldn't really talk yet, and their parents would know what they were saying.  It would go something like this:

Me: "Hey, buddy, what's going on?"

Kid: "Da!" (points).

Me: "Uhh, I don't really understand.  What do you want?"

Kid: "Da!" (points again).

Me: "Um, I still don't know what you're saying."

Kid: "Da!" (growing irritated).

Kid's Parent: "He wants you to go over there and pick up the red ball and throw it to the dog."

It was always a mystery to me how so much could be divined from so little.  

Now, though, Number One is saying quite a few words, all of them some variation of "Ba!" or "Da!" or "Ca!" and I'm starting to understand.

For example, "Ba!" when said when she's done eating dinner means, "I'm ready to go take my bath. Now!"

By contrast "Bo!" (with a short "o" like in "dog") almost always  means "I'm going to go get a book, and then you're going to read it to me. Now!"

"Ca!" usually just means "Cat!"

Bring me the book.

Number One can now understand and follow directions with amazing specificity. 

Say, "Bring me Who Says Quack."

She looks around, finds the right book, and brings it to you.

Say, "Put your bib in the drawer."

She takes her bib, walks to the right drawer and puts her bib in it.

She is also starting to properly use a fork and spoon.

Un-fucking-believable.

Four thousand words.

Mmmm. Cupcake.

Walking at the park.

Number One and Boy Cousin.

Hangin' with Auntie A and Girl Cousin.

Happy Birthday!

Wow.  It's hard to believe it's been a whole year.

Well, actually, a year and a day.  A day late and a dollar short.  That's how I roll as a Dad.  Pretty awesome, right?

This time last year, I was trying to sleep with Number One balanced on my chest.  Mom was afraid I'd drop her.  I didn't.  No way.

Now she walks.  Has her own shoes.  Follows me from room to room saying, "Da...da...da" over and over.   She knows what I'm saying.  Tries to tell me things.  Is pretty fucking awesome.

She had one birthday party already with Boy Cousin.  Tomorrow she's rocking her own party.  A good time shall be had by all.

Poopy, poopity.

So, most people probably think that we're crazy for trying to teach Number One how to use the potty on her own when she's less than one year old.

Still it's a total victory when I catch both a pee and a potty in the morning, like I did today.  Boo-motherfuckin'-ya.

Cleaning up a potty bum is about 1000 times easier than the same bum if the potty had occurred in the nappy.  

Even if she does end up anal retentive - it's worth it.

Post-Ike update.

Let's see.  What's happened in the last couple of weeks?

Oh, yeah.  Hurricane.   No power for 12 days.

Then there was something else...What was it?  

That's it! Number One started walking!  It's a natural disaster miracle!  The doctors said she'd never walk again, but she showed them!  I give a little thanks every day to that godforsaken Ike.

Not really.  Well, really she is walking, but the doctors never told us she wouldn't.  I made that up.

So what's the deal now?  Does she have to start wearing shoes and stuff?  

Innocence lost.

Ike

We decided to ride out Hurricane Ike, and he's making his unwelcome arrival right about now.

Number One seems unphased by her first hurricane.

We actually had a nice day.  The office was closed, and the weather was pretty nice all day.  Went to the park.  Number One spent some time crawling around in the grass, which she recently discovered and now loves.

It's actually getting pretty windy here now, but so far it looks like Ike isn't going to live up to the Cat 4 hype - despite what the national news is saying.  I heard Geraldo fell down.  I wish I could've seen that.

I'll update on the other side - assuming we have power.

Labor Day.

Spent some QT with the Wife and Number One this weekend. I don't think people are really meant to work away from their family for 40 hours a week 50 weeks a year.

Sometimes I think Number One doesn't know she's a baby. She's now pretty much refusing to eat "baby" food if we're all having a meal together. So today, she had roast beef sandwich and broccoli cheese soup for lunch.

She also had her first brunch with the gay and fabulous on Sunday. She was mayjuh with the singles as they went happily drinking their bottomless mimosas between hangovers.

Been awhile.

So it's been awhile since I last posted. I've been somewhat conflicted as to whether I should maintain this or let it go to reduce my online presence. The Internet is a crazy place.

Number One has been doing all sorts of new things. She's crawling, pulling up, eating grown-up food. All sorts of things.

She's still a shrimp. Smaller than almost every other baby we see, even most that are a couple of months younger than her. Dr. says she's fine, so I'm not going to even think about it anymore.

I'm thinking as she does more stuff and stuff I'll update the site with some anecdotes. For now, a haiku:

Eating spaghetti
With a spoon and fingers too
Dinner adventure

Knocking on Wood.

So there was some dramatic news about Chinese-made drugs killing 81 people, and yesterday was Earth Day, and there's the whole continuing Clinton debacle, but I just don't care.

The world is beautiful once again.

Two nights in a row Number One has slept through the night. We're talking 7 p.m. to 7 a.m.

With no swaddle.

And last night she only cried for about 20 seconds when we put her in bed.

Sleeping baby equals happy Papa.

Swaddling, redux.

Dear Anonymous (if that is indeed your name - not Miracle Blanket Corporation),

Who knew that swaddling would generate such a response? In fact, I didn't think two people who aren't Auntie A even read this.

Anyway, since I have been twice chastised, I will respond. It's not that I'm anti-swaddling generally, or that I think she'll go to college with a swaddle, or that I think there is permanent harm being done. I'm not a cry-it-outer. I want the little gal to sleep.

So, why the swaddle-debacle?

First (to the doula), she's a week away from six months old, not four months old. So Number One is getting pretty good with her hands. She's got some skills. But when she's all wrapped up she can't put her hand in her mouth or pick up her pacifier or do of the other things she's capable of doing to soothe herself. She just has to lay there and rely on Mom and Papa to give her the pacifier when it falls out of her mouth.

Second, if she wakes up before we do, she can't hang out in her crib and grab her feet or move around and be content because she's all wrapped up.

Finally, it seems like she hates getting wrapped up sometimes, so I want to unwrap her. It's because I think it will make things better - not worse. (Mom disagrees on this point, and I freely admit I could be wrong, here).

So don't be a hater, Anonymous. I'm just trying to keep the kid happy.

But failing apparently...

Swaddling.

SuperWife and I have for some time been engaged in low intensity, guerilla warfare over the use of the so-called "miracle blanket."

Number One at times seems to hate the thing, which works like a baby straightjacket, but she can't seem to fall asleep without it.

I'm constantly taking her out of the thing, which infuriates SuperWife, who immediately re-wraps the kid.

"She can't fall asleep without it!" she says.

"I know she can't fall asleep without it," I say. "That's the problem."

Last weekend the swaddling debate blew up like Basra. Number One woke up 4 times Saturday night, and by Sunday afternoon it was like Sunni and Shia up in our house. SuperWife couldn't take it anymore:

"Swaddling is tearing this family apart!"

Sickness.

Number One is sick for the first time in her short life. Fever. Congestion. Coughing. The whole works.

It's the saddest thing ever.

Plus, it's back to the bad ol' days. Screaming and crying and wailing and gnashing of teeth at bed time. Waking up three or four times last night.

Rough.

We took Number One to the Dr. on Monday. At the time, she was hardly sick at all, and the Dr. couldn't find anything wrong. The Dr. said she was "probably coming down with something." I was like, "Yes! We knew it even before the Dr. and even before she was actually sick. We're the best parents ever!"

My enthusiasm has dulled.

The Regulated Community will say the darndest things...

"Calling it unrealistic for utilities, shareholders and consumers to "step up" and pay the price of curbing carbon dioxide and other unregulated greenhouse gases, Craig Hansen, a vice president for the energy technology firm Babcock & Wilcox, said yesterday that the industry needed Congress to offset the extra cost of building coal-fired power plants capable of capturing and storing carbon dioxide. In other words, the most direct path to carbon neutrality may be through the U.S. Treasury."

a) Why is it unrealistic for the producers of greenhouse gas emissions, the beneficiaries of utility profits, or the people who use the generated power to pay for pollution they are responsible for generating?

b) If "nobody" is paying the price of curbing greenhouse gas emissions, now, that simply means that the market is failing to properly price electricity. If the cost of greenhouse gas emissions are not reflected in electricity bills, then the market is failing to properly capture the price of climate change, and the cost is being passed on to the environment.

3) Hey, asshole, if Congress offsets the extra cost of building coal-fired power plants capable of capturing and storing carbon dioxide (a specious idea in the first place), utilities, shareholders and consumers will still pay for it. It's called taxes, and we all pay them (except maybe your welfare-loving corporation).

You probably hate "lazy welfare moms" but you'll sure suck up to the public tit for big business won't you?

Easter at the DQ

(To be read in the voice of that lady at the Texas state fair wearing a magenta tube top, acid washed jeans and white tennis shoes, leading a pack of kids and saying, "No, Cletus, you cannot have another fried twinkie. As soon as your daddy gets done working his shift at the Tilt-a-Whirl, we're going to your Aunt Bobbie Jo's for supper. Now finish your corny dog.")

Last weekend, on Easter, we were driving back to Houston from Dallas, and Autie A and Uncle Deezie were driving back to Dallas from Houston, so we thought it would be fun if we met somewheres along the way.

Well, we ended up at the DQ in Fairfield, and I tell you, it was right nice. That Girl Cousin is growing like a weed. She's definitely her daddy's girl. I think she wanted to eat some of those tacos he was having - why he'll order tacos at the Dairy Queen I'll never know. 'Course then he ate what was left of Autie A's HungerBuster, too.

After supper we all had Blizzards before we got back on the road. I was gonna have a Dip Cone, but they said they couldn't dip right then. Something about something being too cold. I thought, of course it's cold - it's ice cream, dummies.

Anway, it sure was nice to see the in-laws and Girl Cousin. I know her and Number One are going to be thick as theives growing up.

Random Comments.

Number One slept from 8 p.m. until 7 a.m. this morning. A welcome reprieve from her schedule earlier in the week - fuss until falling asleep at 9 p.m., wake at 3 a.m. for a feeding, and wake for good at 5:30 a.m. - just because she felt like it. It was rough.

Earlier this week, we visited some friends whose first daughter was born three weeks ago. Precious little thing. She's tiny still - probably no bigger than 7 pounds.

I remember when Number One was just a few weeks old and some friends visited us with their five-month old. We thought she looked like a giant. It was strange to see Number One as the big girl.

Mom tried to let Number One take a sip out of her cup the other day. Not so successful. But funny.

Milestone.

I almost forgot one important milestone. She's figured out she hates Coldplay.

Four months.

Number One had her four-month Dr. appointment yesterday. It's hard to believe it's been four months already.

According to the Dr. she's doing perfect. She's a little on the small side, but nothing to be worried about and she's growing regularly - hitting all her developmental milestones and whatnot. Dr. also answered all my paranoid questions, like "She seems to be lefthanded, do I need to try to use her right hand more so she gets adequate stimulation for both sides?" (Answer: No. Stop being a weirdo.)

As for the milestones, here's what we've got so far:

1. Transfers toys from one hand to the other.

2. Puts everything she can grasp in her mouth.

3. Much prefers standing to sitting, though Mom is encouraging sitting when Number One will comply.

4. She can hold her upper body erect when standing or sitting, but still needs some work on balance.

5. Cute as hell.

Mom is going with pure breastmilk until at least six months, so nothing to report on the feeding front.

Also, Number One had to get five shots in the leg. She was not happy, and I couldn't watch.

Responsibility.

Responsibility is cleaning up the poop from something you feed.

It cracks me up when people who don't have kids say, "I know it's nothing like having a kid, but I have to do a lot things for my dog, blah, blah, blah..."

I usually tune out after "I know it's nothing like having a kid..."

Because the rest of it - yeah, they're right, it's nothing like having a kid.

Tourism.

It's not often that I'm solely responsible for the health and well being of Number One (sure, I take her out shopping at least once a week, but I always know that I can make a mad dash for home should the situation get too far out of control), but today she was 100 percent my responsibility while SuperWife went to get her hair done.

The plan was I could work from home as time allowed. Fat chance. There was a minor emergency at work, but thankfully the word came down that it could wait until Monday. Still, even between naps, there was barely enough time to even sit down, much less accomplish any work. I've never pretended that taking care of a baby wasn't a full time job, but it never hurts to give more credit to the moms and dads who stay home to do this very tough work.

Moreover, as hard as I try to be a good involved dad, there's no denying that Mom knows Number One way better than I do. While I'm away at work all day, they're living together, learning each other's likes and dislikes, falling into a schedule that is, if not easy or comfortable, at least knowable to the two of them.

I'm just a tourist.

Fierce.

I made this photograph of Number One this week. As Mom said, if we were "that kind of parent" she could be a baby model.

She's fierce, don't you think?