First family road trip. . .

A week ago we were in Chicago—our first family trip (NOTE: all the links below are pictures). The trip was originally supposed to be to Denver. . . a 15 hour drive. We decided that the 5 hours to Chicago was a better move. Even with the closer destination it took us 7 hours to get there. We left at 6 a.m. so he might sleep for a couple hours on the way. . . he didn't. So we stopped three times.

The first stop was to feed him breakfast. We stopped at a rest stop and laid out a blanket and sat him down and fed him. Then he crawled around a little. The second time we just let him crawl around. The third time was for lunch for us and him and we stopped at a Burger King. . . there was no crawling around there.

So immediately we went to Shed Aquarium. Our little adventurer was mostly more interested in the other people than the fish. It was a bit of a mistake taking him straight to an attraction before the hotel, but it worked out OK. He liked the hotel room. He made himself at home.

We spent our second day to the Art Institute and Millennium Park. We found out there was a concert in the park at the Frank Ghery concert shell (see above) so that night we walked back and ate sandwiches in the park and listened to music.

The last day we took a trolley tour of Chicago which included Navy Pier. We also walked the Miracle Mile.

We walked a lot, and Chicago is not very stroller friendly. Revolving doors and strollers don't mix and almost every store/building has nothing but a revolving door. But it was cool walking through the city together.

There were a lot of things I would have done differently, but it was a great trip. The little monkey did better than we could have expected being away from home, sleeping in a strange place, and going for long periods without solid napping.

Anybody else going on trips? What some advice on traveling with a baby? Let me know I might have some good advice.

Cheap date. . .

We can no longer change our Mr. Mushy Face without this. A half used tube of Desitin. It's not that he has diaper rash or anything. It's that he's decided he won't be tied down to be changed anymore. So to distract him we hand him the tube of ass ointment to play with while we change him. . . we didn't plan on it, it was a spur of the moment thing. He was trying to escape one day so I handed him the closest thing I could find.

We especially need it to change poopy diapers. If we don't give him something to play with he grabs his well. . . he grabs his own shit. What do you want he's 9 months old!? I'm sure some day he won't want to grab his own feces.

This is a great time to mention his other favorite play things. I've already mentioned his bowl.

He loves playing with paper. We've given him magazines we've finished reading and he rips them apart and plays with them. The first few times he tried to eat them. Since then he's stopped and, though we watch him still, we're less worried about him eating the paper (plus working in a business that prints a lot I happen to know most printed pieces are perfectly safe, printed with soy-based ink on good clean paper).

He plays with the remotes and the cordless phone. We use them to teach him to crawl (which he's doing like a pro now, but that's another post). He loves playing with cups, coasters, and empty water bottles, but his new favorite toy is an empty Pringles can.

He plays with the canister, then when he gets bored we take off the lid and he plays with that, then again when he gets bored we switch again. He's even learned that it's fun to yell into the tube because his voice sounds funny. He'll put the tube edge in his mouth and yell.

The joke has always been you spend money of expensive toys and the kid will play with the box. Our kid won't even make it to the box, he'll get caught up playing with the paper.

What non-toys can your babies not live without?

Careful what you wish for. . .

Every parent looks forward to their child saying "ma-ma" or da-da" for the first time. Last week the kid was into whispering "da-da." It was cute. Now he's learned "ma-ma."

"Ma-ma" doesn't mean he wants his mother. It means he wants something. . . held, a toy, food, sleep, the remote. . . it also means he's sad, happy, angry (that's just a loud "MA!"). I know the first couple times my wife was ecstatic the first time our little pizza roll said "ma-ma," but, judging by the look on her face when I got home, if she hears it one more time I fear she may drown the kid in a sack.*

He's lucky he's cute.

*Note: my wife is a lovely person and would never actually drown our son in a sack.

Falling in love. . .

My son falls in love every day. . . sometimes more than once. We go to the store and he'll find a little friend and be so excited to see them. He especially gets really excited when he sees little girls. He kicks and laughs. The other day he kept looking at a maybe 12-year-old girl and he did his fake laugh (really loud) and everything else he could do to get her attention (smiles, kicks, the oh so sexy ear shattering squeal that he does). He laid it on a little thick. He doesn't yet understand the subtleties of flirting.

Then they leave his sight and for a few moments he's sad. Then he moves on to the next one.

If he's anything like me this will go on until he's in his 20's.

Is it me? . . .

I think I've said before that he best feeling I get during my day is when I come home and Mr. Bo Jangles sees me for the first time that day. He squeals and bounces up and down (or just kicks his legs if he's laying down). He's like a group of 12-year-old boys who have just been given a bag of illegal fireworks. I don't think I've ever been that excited in my life (while clothed). That excitement is all directed at me. . . It's a nice feeling.

Then I wonder if the excitement is hurting him.

All day long my wife tells me how the little guy is crawling around. She'll leave the room and when she comes back 1 minute later, he's on the other side of the room getting into something he shouldn't.

Then I arrive home and he sits or lays and grunts while watching me. I'm not trying to be cocky, but I think he's so excited to see me that he can't move. Either that or he thinks I'm a big sucker and if he whines I'll go pick him up or hand him what he wants. . . I don't think I do that.

On another crawling note. We got new carpet last week. It's thicker and less worn than our old (of course) which means he's getting carpet burn on his little knees.

It's hard out there for a baby.

Instamatic. . .

I have finally posted a whole crap ton of photos on Parker's photo page.

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday Daddy!

Love,

Your little monkey.

Takeoff. . .

I will post video in a few days when he gets better, but as of last night our little man is officially crawling. It's only a couple lunges forward, but it's forward motion and I'm counting it. God help us, he's mobile.

I'm not number 1. . .

Photographic proof I am not the worst father in the world. W00t!

First cold. . .

My baby has the sniffles. Actually this morning he sounded better, but for the past few days his nose has been really drippy and he's been coughing like crazy. His nose is the worst of it, no snot bubbles or anything just drippy and crusty. YAY babies! Sunday night was the worst of it. He woke up several times during the night coughing.

He was a little trooper though. He sounded awful, but he's been smiley and happy and moving around a lot. In fact the bright side is he's been sleeping more. I guess just his body trying to make itself better. . . the human body is amazing.

Boats, Aunts, and Automobiles. . .

July forth we loaded up the car (with EVERYTHING from our house) and took a trip to my wife's cousin's lake house. It was a good chance to see how the silly little man would do on a longish car ride, sleeping someplace strange, and being around so many people. He did good.

Good is relative. He didn't nap much, he whined a little, and the next day he was pretty cranky. He loved being around everybody! He's a people person. It's nice to be able to walk up to one of my wife's aunts and say "here, have a baby" so I can go do something. He was a hit.

Towards the end of the evening we suited him up and went for a boat ride. After 7pm and before 10am is reserved for fishing so boats can't go fast and disturb the fish. So we thought it would be fun. We fed him his bottle on the boat and the 3 of us huddled under a towel for warmth (never thought I'd say that about July). Part way through, I was bad and took his life vest off. He as so miserable and refused to be in any other position but standing while wearing it.

Anyway, it was a good little trip. The little guy was up way past his bedtime, but he slept well with Grandma and Grandpa in the back seat on the way home. We're now embarking on day 3 of family gatherings and then we're off until next weekend.

Stop, drop, and roll. . .

Sorry it's been so long. I feel bad about it, but there isn't much lately that I've wanted to talk about. We've fallen into a routine. Every night I come home from work the little man is excited to see me (which is the best feeling in the world), I make dinner, we eat, we keep the kid as happy as we can until it's time to eat, bathe, and go to bed.

Same thing every night.

Don't get me wrong, it's a nice grind. I love the grind, it's a grind I can see myself staying in for years (BTW as I type this he is falling asleep while drinking a bottle). The grind is great. . . for my wife and I.

For Rumplecrabbypants it's a grind ladened with the worst frustration of all. . . the inability to crawl. He knows he could do it if it weren't for the fact that he can't. He can roll, he can spin on his belly, he can gets on his hands and knees and rock. . . he's so close to crawling and it pisses him off!

The only shitty part for us is there is nothing we can do to help him learn. He just looks at us as if to say "you can work the diaper stuff and that magical spoon thing, why can't you help me move?" So we all wait, some of us more patiently than others.

Everybody we talk to tells us to watch out once he moves, that he'll get into everything and we won't get a moments peace. I'm sure it'll be tough to keep up with him, but I think he'll be much happier once he can move to get the toys he wants. . . or the remote, the phone, his mommy's hair, daddy's bottle of tequila, or anything else he sees.

Soon, my baby boy, soon.