Matryoshka Bug

The bug abhors finding the star-shaped nesting blocks stacked properly.  She must immediately pull them out of one another until no two are touching.  Sometimes, her dad (namely, me) cannot even finish restacking them before she has dismantled his vain attempt at order.  Given enough such back and forths, the bug will not only separate the blocks, but also scatter them to opposing quadrants of the Universe after beating them into submission against each other.

Oh, how quickly the hours pass...

Less cute, but along the same vein, if the bug loses interest in a toy, that toy will be banished from her presence.  The subsequent whining shall not be misconstrued as a request to have the aforementioned toy returned to the bug (issuing no such command from her highchair, carseat, or stroller) and doing so will only result in jettisoning said rejected toy forthwith.  Rather, attending adjutants are expected to offer a fresh, more captivating toy.  Peace prevails.  The system works.

All in all, wifey and I keep coming across new games, faces, and sounds to add to the repertoire of ways of keeping the bug smiling, happy, and exercising.  And... as the saying goes - what goes around comes around.

Beep-Beep. Beep-Bug. Yeah!

I'm finally back to updating with my computer.  And just in time for an important development in the bug's world.  We got her her first car!

I call it a bumper car, but apparently it's official title is an "activity walker."

Bumper car.  That's what it does.  Chairs.  Cabinets.  Trashcans.  Refrigerator.  The Wonderbug.  Cats.  Ankles.  All with impressive speed, accuracy, and attitude of that one kid at the fair that always guns for T-boning unsuspecting prey.

As far as the activity portion...  Distracted driving at best.  She will pull over to smack Pooh down into his honey pot enough times to find some cruisin' music on the "radio."  Otherwise, the dashboard clutter is well on its way to becoming a pull-over-able offense.

The bug likes to make her own engine noise.  I can only spell it like: mpbaht; and explain that the sound is rather like striking a tennis ball.  She mpbahts all over the navigable areas of the house and has become rather adept at backing up when in a tight spot.  However, I have to add the backing-up beeps.  Afterall, she's not quite eleven months.  Beeps take time.

All in all, Wifey, bug, and Panda Cat have adapted well in the last week to this new life.  Woolly Rhino still hides under the bed for most of the day and anything with a shock value equal or greater than a rustling curtain makes him jump.  Wifey has come to know the major roads of our new burg faster than I did (I still tend to use my navigation system.  You never know...).

Improvements abound.  I may even get back to finishing the first draft of my novel.  Only about thirty more pages to go... for the last four months.

One more thing on the bug.  She's always enjoyed a good face plant into a pillow, bed, blanket, toy, or adult.  But now, she's taking it up a couple notches -- face plowing across the carpet.  By "face" I really mean forehead, not that it makes it much better.  How she avoids carpet burns I cannot say, but it looks like enough fun that I am taking notes.

On the teeth front, still holding out with just the two lowers.  The two upper incisors haven't poked through yet, but the two beside them (#5 and #6, I think) are starting to show.  I'm having concerns about goat-like first birthday pictures.  We'll see...

Six More Weeks Of Cuteness

For all the research and development into stimulating toys for babies, the simplest prove the most cherished. The bug is no exception.

Toes are/were a reliable stand-by.  But, shadows can pull attention away from any light and sound show now.

Wifey boasts an improving repertoire of shadow puppets, especially rather convincing renditions of rabbits.  But, not all shadow shows are deliberate.  Depending on the angle of the sun, even the bug's own shadow merits investigation, play, and delighted squeals.  (ever toothless squeals)

All the same, I'm rather glad not to have been stuck in an eternal loop of living the same day over.  Being nearly three thousand miles away is that much more bearable knowing that every day I wake up, I'm one day closer to being with my family again.

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.