The Bug Goes To The Zoo

When one isn't quite nine months old, even a small zoo must feel like guided backpack tour through the world's jungles.  Small zoos are probably the way to go for ones so small.  Who wants to be thirty minutes from the parking lot when a macaw's accusatory squawking is ill received by a stroller's passenger?

The bug instigated her fair share of screeching.  Wifey and grandma took her from continent to continent and expanded her perception of what odd forms life can take.  Some odd forms seemed to require very loud and shrill communication.

The turkeys couldn't have agreed more.  A couple of them that approached the fence in search of handouts were offered ear-fulls instead.  Whether they intended to clarify their requests or polite fowl communication ensued, they returned each of the bug's sonic volleys with equal grace and aplomb.

Maybe there's something about the bug and turkeys.  Grandma was randomly visited by a turkey when the bug was born.  Perhaps she'll grow up to be the Turkey Non-Whisperer.

Four And A Half Cats

The bug has certainly upped the mobility, flipping and flopping around like a little play machine.  She is still sitting with assistance of a well placed Boppy, rather than free-styling it.

It seems that when one sits inside of a Boppy, one should stretch oneself backward, almost upside down, and reach for any toys in need a fresh coat of one's slobber. Especially when one is now able to right oneself back up into a sitting position.

Video calling keeps getting better with the bug quickly learning her way around a touch screen.  Specifically, how to hang up on daddy.

However, I think it's time to update on the current cat condition.  You see, grandma already had a cat (we'll refer to him as Angel) and now our three (Panda, Rhino, and Monkey for those who don't remember or haven't read the cat post) and the bearded dragon live at grandma's with wifey and the bug.

Angel has welcomed his cousins warmly and seems to be even relieved to have Rhino to play chase with.  Panda is still working on sharing space with any cats, but that also is working out.

That our three are so tolerated by Angel is interesting because, prior to their arrival, Angel had a neighborhood friend we call Dolores, due to sad looking markings around the eyes.  Dolores does have tags, but never gets close enough to let us look at them.

Angel has firmly put his paw down.  Dolores is no longer allowed to come inside and help his/herself to the food.  Apparently, there are enough mouths to feed.  Angel is fine with Dolores hanging outside, just not inside.  Any more.

As far as the bearded dragon goes - he has a heat lamp - in the middle of the living room.  Cats like that.

A Brand New, New Direction

Back in September of 2011, wifey and I started a new-parent routine that involved not having the same day off, taking turns caring for the bug, and generally avoiding having to pay for any childcare. Well, after a few months of that, we decided it wasn't going to last.

On a side note, allow me to point out that if you know any recent mothers returning to the workplace, I assure you they are forcing themselves to be there and finding any way to justify working instead of caring for their baby. The last thing they need to be told is "oh, it goes by so fast. If you blink, you miss it." When they hear that (several times an hour), don't be surprised when they stop showing up to work.

As I was saying, we needed to find a new routine. One that would allow wifey to be a stay-at-home mom, open the possibility of a sibling for the bug, and give me plenty of bacon to bring home. Yes. Bacon.

I scattered probe droids throughout Australia, Canada, the U.S., and France to see where such a routine might exist. Turns out the Rebel base and the mother of bacon generators is in North Carolina.

Naturally, I loaded up my Imperial Star Destroyer and am en route to make a home for us. Wifey and the bug will stay with grandma until the rebel forces have been thwarted.

I apologize for all the Hoth references, but I'm posting from Flagstaff, AZ and it's not warm.

I'm not going to be the write-at-home dad anymore and, for at least a few months, I won't be able to post any first-hand bug development updates. I can tell you she has started sleeping in a variety of extremely cute on-the-side and on-the-belly positions. I'll also need to change my banner once I get my computer hooked up again.

For now, it's time to burn up a fresh tank of gas.

Feeding the Bib

Turns out the bug was more than ready for her first bites of rice cereal.  She acted like we had been holding out on her.  I guess, in a way, we were.

I imagine a lot of parents stare unblinkingly at their baby's first bites of "solid food" (what's so solid about some rice flour dissolved in breast milk?) wanting to see some expression of delight, wonderment, confusion, or even disgust.  It's a big first step.  Our camera was rolling.  We planned the event at grandma's.  Typical.

This is what we got:

• The bug watched the spoon come closer and casually took it in her mouth.
• She smacked her tongue a little bit (probably searching desperately for flavor).
• She immediately grabbed at the bowl with a look like "what's in this stuff?" and tipped the whole thing over, including the brand new, no-flip suction cup that, as promised, remained attached to the bowl.
• She took a couple more oh-hum spoonfuls from what was left in the bowl and humored us with chewing motions (a mere formality at this stage).
• Granted, those of us over the age of five months were preoccupied with taking care of the spill.  Still, we weren't feeding her that slowly.  Regardless, after only a few bites of her gruel, the bug found it necessary to take matters into her own hands.  By "matters" I mean spoon.  And by "hands" I mean a two-fisted death grip from which not even photons could escape.

In time, we got the spoon back.  After having had a total of three such feedings thus far, she still isn't feeding herself in spite of her prowess with infant cutlery.

She accepts that she needs to wait on our ability to extract an empty spoon from her mouth, refill it at the proper receptacle, and competently transfer the spoon level, so as not to spill its contents, to her waiting mouth where spilling the contents is an unavoidable (and, as it were, necessary) eventuality.  She accepts this so totally in fact that her latest feeding pose involves leaning with arms extended to the sides, as much as the nylon straps will allow, toward the person holding the spoon and having eyes and mouth held as wide as manageable.

I'd say we're having a first feeding win.

In a related side-note, teething has begun in earnest.  No white tips poking through yet, but they can't be far away.  Stay tuned...

Ice Cream A La Mode

Family on Friday!!!

Don't underestimate the value of your personal family dictionary.  It may even be a good idea to write those words and phrases that separate your family from the rest of the world.

The words often start out as misheard or misused innocently enough, but somehow (within the family unit) they catch on.  The more embarrassing or confusing they would be out of the home, the more you know what I'm talking about.

A simple example for us is "frozen goodness."  Other people call it "ice cream."  Grandma calls it "evening freshness."  Our bearded dragon eats a mixture of "cubies, nummies, and green leafies" that sound much cuter than the reality.  The word "then" is often used as a form of punctuation.  "Motherboard" stands in as an all-purpose perfunctory way of communicating that I've lost my audience and have a choice of switching topics or shutting up completely.

Every family has their own long list of such examples.  You know when you're really getting to know someone when you get definitions and explanations of their family dictionary.  Even more so when you find yourself using them.

What these words do (other than amuse) is act like a sort of cement in the family identity.  When we hear and use them, we are reminded of how close we are and how much time we have spent together.

Being in love means never having to complete a sentence.

Grandma's First Birthday

Today is grandma's (my mother-in-law) birthday!  Her first one as a grandma.


Wifey made some special quiche.  I made some peach cobbler.  And the bug made everyone smile!


It doesn't matter how young you are.  Having that first birthday as a grandparent is a very special (and probably mixed) blessing.  I don't know from personal experience, but my dad's birthday was October 26th and I've been told.


Hey!  Waitaminute... my birthday was September 12th.  That was my first as a dad!  Did I know this?  Or am I just figuring this out?  Seems like bigger news when it's someone else's birthday.  I'm sure plenty of people told me.


Happy Birthday to grandma and I'm off to om nom nom.