mess magnet

puddle, a photo by grumpnet on Flickr.

seriously, leave it to this boy to find the only sand and puddle on a field trip to downtown charleston.

we went to the library specifically so we could steer clear of the wooded areas near our local playgrounds.

these days, the boy takes a cursory tour around the equipment, takes a perfunctory slide, climb and/or swing, then lights out for the nearest plot of bare earth or open water.

surely the library would be safe, wouldn't it? an old postal building built in grand federal style surrounded by blocks of office buildings and businesses?

no. i assumed he'd play in the water fountain. fine. but then he finds this, and dirty leftover sandbox sand from the book festival earlier this summer.

he spent about half an hour throwing sand into this puddle. just ridiculous.

our boy can even make "city life" a dirty mess.

Via Flickr:
boy finds puddle on a bone-dry day in the middle of downtown charleston.

a boy and a dog (not his)

the easiest game a boy and a dog can play. we met this critter at danner meadow. they took to each other really well.

big day

unlike his kuya and lolo, the boy is refusing to look into the camera for a cake shot.

this was one of those go-go days, where we had to hit the ground running with the sun and keep on until it went down.

kris had a baby shower in huntington at noon and was taking our girl with her so she could meet our friends -- and free up daddy to handle the boy.

i made plans to take him to the ywca downtown for the open swim at their indoor pool. it would be the first time the two of us went since he was a baby.

(not a very successful trip, as i recall. not that it was a fiasco, but more like, no great shakes. he didn't seem to be getting anything out of it, so we sort of punted on that idea.)

clay center splashfest 2012

but this time, i know if he could jump into every fountain or body of water we encounter, he would, so it seemed like a promising plan.

as i was taking him out of his car seat in the parking lot, he said, "i so happy." he repeated "go, go," the whole way to the building.

(he, of course, refused to enter once he saw the staffers amy and stephanie making a fuss over him. i had to carry him inside to look at the pool to convince him to stay.)

once past the locker room and the showers -- an adventure in itself -- we entered the door leading to the pool.

he charged down the ramp into the water with glee. i buckled him into a floatie and caught all manner of water weights, noodles and swim boards that he threw in from the equipment rack. then he went chasing after them.

he grew emboldened watching a few older girls jumping into the deep end of the pool. he made his way over, then proceeded to leap into my arms as i alternately treaded water and held the rails. (still no stamina for me.)

he kept this up for almost two hours. and again, as with all extrications from fun situations, i resorted to promises of french fries to get him in the mindset to leave. (he was hungry and thirsty toward the end. and the water fountain wasn't cutting it.)

so home we went, the exhausted boy and me, after a side trip to wendy's for nuggets and a double cheeseburger with fries. two episodes of "harold and the purple crayon" and a false start later, he was down for an afternoon nap.

this completed phase one: tire out boy for a nap. phase two was a birthday dinner out for my sister pamy scheduled real close to the boy's bed time.


he was following his cousins' lead and running around the room where we were seated. i had to take him outside for about five minutes when he refused to sit still or quietly, but that was the extent of any disciplinary issues.

the bonus after he was done eating (don't order the children's chicken boat meal at taste of asia -- no taste at all in those hunks of meat -- but the grownup food was excellent, as usual) was there was a festival going on in downtown south charleston with live music and dancing in the street. the boy really liked that -- and the running around tired him out.


he was ready for birthday cookie, though. the whole drive to pamy's house, he kept asking for "birthday cookie."

he mostly ate the icing before returning to playing with his cousins. it took the subterfuge of "changing your diaper" to get him away from their toys and out the front door.

now he is sleeping -- i hope, for a good long time. and soon, i hope, so will i.

not a bad day.

neighbors

sparky, a photo by grumpnet on Flickr.

from the time he started walking until this spring, just stepping out the front door and exploring the neighborhood would suffice for the boy as a field trip.

sometimes we could blow a good half hour or more just exploring -- or trespassing, depending on how you viewed it -- the yards just around our house.

no one seemed to mind the two of us just wandering, looking at flowers and shrubs and yard decor. i think they knew a boy had to be occupied, which i always appreciated.

oftentimes, i'd pack him in the kid carrier backpack and walk the mile-long circle of the street above ours. on long trips, we'd walk to the playground about a quarter mile away.

now, he's about reached the carrying capacity of the backpack, and seems less interested in slides and swings as dirt and puddles, so we drive to far off places, like the state forest.

(plus, this summer was so oppressively hot, it didn't seem safe to trundle off and bake for a half-hour playground visit.)

but i digress ...

what i wanted to say was that i liked our little block as it has existed these past two years.

our street was home to three families with young boys -- six of them, ranging from maybe 8 or 9 to about 12.

the yard next door was the site of various sporting contests, usually football, but wiffleballs, basketballs and soccer balls were frequently left scattered about the grass.

and by "grass," i meant the turf worn down from constant play and scuffling. it had a wonderful, lived-in quality that said "children live here."

warm afternoons and evenings could be filled with the sound of play calling and hoots of triumph or wails of despair.

kris and i worried as our boy's first summer neared that the racket would keep him awake from his early bedtimes.

it was never a problem, even into his second summer -- and despite a growing interest in the boys' doings.

kris and i would watch the boy watching the gang from our front window, curious about the running and jumping and chasing going on.

i know he longed to run around with them.

of course, i knew by the time he was old enough to keep up, they'd be long past the age when they'd want to play with him, but it still made for a bittersweet desire for me to harbor for him.

the boys were nice enough, though, when he and i went out for a walk while they were out playing, to offer him a pint-sized soccer ball for him to play with. (with their mother's prompting, i think, but it was still sweet.)

he has it to this day. and he calls it his "socca boll."

i looked forward to more years with a lively, rough-and-tumble neighborhood with my son idolizing and hopefully emulating the active youngsters on our street.


well, as they always do, things changed.

the boys across the street moved away and their parents put the house up for sale, and just this week, the house next door put a "for sale" sign up, too.

with all the movement this summer, there wasn't any ball playing. and the worn down grass is now thick with growth. (i guess the improvements the family made to the walk and driveway should have signaled an enhancement to curb appeal.)

i think back to the years when i was a boy in beckley, when our street was home to nine families with at least two children each.

summer evenings were raucous with wiffleball and tag and kick the can. and hordes of us must have made some dreadful noise with our big wheels tearing down the hill.

the return to quiet was a gradual thing, as we became teenagers just roaming the night, then later driving off to points unknown.

now, with homes vacated and autumn in the air, my neighborhood here is going to be a lot quieter. and unless a pair of young families move in, it's going to stay that way.

sneak attack

mobile + curious = hide your stuff

temperamental artist

the artist at work, a photo by grumpnet on Flickr.

the boy's been on a tear lately.

if his projects -- or desires -- don't conform to his liking --bam! all manner of screeching and violence ensues.

if he's at play, and his blocks won't stack right or a figurine won't stand where he wants it, structures and characters are swept up in a swift and furious fit of pique.

worse, of course, are if requests for videos or play are denied or deferred.

first comes the screaming, then efforts at restraining are met with slaps, punches and hair pulling.

i keep telling myself this is because he's a boy. a boy with my temper and my old proclivity for acting before thinking.

(and also a boy working through jealousy issues.)

i hope and pray that we can remain steady in correcting this so when he's grown out of it, it will be into a less volatile temperament.

Via Flickr:
if you're working with clay, you're a sculptor, right?

horrifying cat

otto, a.k.a. "smidge," takes a last lounge under the boy's old crib.
she likes hanging out in the boy's room. i don't think it's for a good reason.

we had the boy lined up for a nice nap today.

he and i went to the 7:30 mass, then he played in the fountains at the co-cathedral and at the sacred heart preschool playground for almost an hour.

he got home hungry enough for a post-breakfast waffle -- this after several handfuls of goldfish from me on the drive home.

we watched a little "harold and the purple crayon," tucked him into bed with a sippy cup of milk, sang him "baa baa black sheep" and closed the door.

he was silent and primed for sleep.

i sat on the couch as kris looked at me with an amazed look. he must have been tired, we reckoned.

then we heard the loud meowing from the behind the boy's closed door.

the cat had been under the bed.

the boy was awake and a rare mid-morning nap opportunity was gone.

we blamed the cat.

day three

... and the novelty hasn't worn off.

after reading his storybooks the past two nights, it didn't take much prompting to get the boy to go to sleep.

"it's time to go to sleep, bubba," mommy would say.

"my big-uh boy bed," he would say before hopping off the couch and toddling off to his room.

(seriously, he's giddy about it. he'll take you to his room to show it off to you any time of the day.)

we tuck him in, sing a few rounds of "baa baa black sheep," tell him to go easy on his guardian angel and kiss him good night. then he goes to sleep.

i could get used to this.

(now if only he could not wake up from his naps hysterical and in need of a carb fix.)

big boy bed

first pic in his new big boy bed. got him just before
his lorax, a.k.a. "guy," covered his face.

it's night one for the boy down at floor level in his new "cars" toddler bed.

i was originally against something that we'd have to replace in about four years, but his new crib-breakout skills coupled with his mom's continuing back issues forced us to compromise on a stopgap measure for his bedtime accommodations.

it took about two hours to put together.

as its simple design came into shape -- it's really not much more than a cot to hold a crib mattress -- the boy kept checking in on me.

"daddy? whacha do-nin'?"

i'd never seen the boy anticipate something so much for so long.

of course, as is always the case, it was the last screw (for the side rail) that gave me trouble. the threads on the nut were out of whack and i had to employ a pair of pliers and a flathead screwdriver to keep it in place long enough to mostly tighten the bolt.

(and it almost goes without saying that attaching the head and footboards -- the next to the last things that needed done -- required no small amount of leverage to make the holes in the legs align.)

by the time i was done -- after most of "finding nemo" and two episodes of "harold and the purple crayon" -- he was beside himself with glee.

he crawled into the bed and out and stretched himself over its length. he could barely wait for me to get the mattress pad and fitted sheet over it.

i hope his enthusiasm for bedtime continues past this night.

hours before, his crib was a holding pen for all the toys that he could possibly throw after he was sent to his room during the violence that was either another naptime night terror or a low blood sugar meltdown.

before putting together his new bed, i shot a more pleasant scene of his old crib ready for a sleepy inhabitant one last time.

probably the last use of the crib
before disassembly and oblivion.

the delta 4600 crib and toddler bed was originally home to my eldest niece, my sister's first child, when she was born back in 2002.

her next kids were twins, so they got a second one.

when the girls outgrew them, and a lone son was born in 2005, they had a spare.

so my sister then gave one of them to us before our boy was born two years ago.

i remember being surprised at how easy it was to put together and that it was a pretty, sturdy thing.

but just before the family headed to parkersburg last week, the boy, impatient for me to get him out of bed, began kicking at the slats until one broke out.

he tried exiting the crib through the space, but only managed to get one leg out before his noggin got stuck.

(lucky for him, he was able to touch the floor with his free leg. i don't want to think what would have happened if he couldn't.)

amazingly, the craftsmanship was such that i was able to bend the slat back into the rail, held in place by its own tension. (looking back, i should have at least glued the ends for a stronger hold.)

anyway, kris informs me that this style of drop-down crib railing is now deemed a safety hazard where somehow infants can get their heads stuck between the mattress and the rail.

we never actually dropped down the rail even as we took the mattress lower and lower as the boy grew.

kris says it's illegal to even give away these kinds of cribs as donations to needier families.

so i guess it's the end of the road for this honorable, simple piece of furniture. i wish there were some way to put it to use rather than just have it get crushed in the back of a sanitation truck.

with any luck, my sister will take it back and its fate will be out of my hands.

thank you for your years of service, pretty delta crib.

time out

ancient timex. still ticking so far.

i've used this racing watch for more than 12 years.

until recently, i'd used it to count laps and time in the pool, on the track and along streets, sidewalks and beaches in at least three states.

nowadays, i'm using it to count down timeouts for the boy.

today, it got its toughest workout yet.

spent the better part of an hour repeatedly making him sit in his timeout chair with the instructions "sit quietly and sit still."

the shrieks were outrageous; the repeated bending of his knees and/or pressing of his hips into the chair was exhausting.

on numerous occasions, he didn't last three seconds before i reset to two minutes. once he blew it with less than five seconds remaining. mostly, he'd crack around 30 seconds in.

as at the end of "poltergeist," i made the mistake of relaxing after he'd finally completed his punishment.

within an hour i was back at it again, this time, it ended with him being placed screaming into his room with all his toys and anything else he could throw taken out of reach.

a tense two hours, there.

as a p.s., he also seemed to awaken from his afternoon nap with what must have been a bout of night terrors.

i actually had to restrain him for about ten minutes before he calmed down enough for me to give him a cup of milk and just sit still for a while.

days like today actually make me wonder if there is something seriously wrong with our child beyond just being 2.

home movie

we missed out on our annual beach trip this year. but i found some video shot almost a year ago today ... just before i killed the camera later that morning.

would have liked to have seen what the boy would have done a year later with better coordination and an even greater love of water and sand.

i suspect his recent ramping up of his terrible two-ness, though, would have made this trip especially dicey.

last look back

after almost seven months of savoring and replaying it over and over ad nauseam, it's time to say farewell to west virginia university's orange bowl drubbing of clemson.

thursday marks the opening of preseason camp for the 2012 football season in a tough, new league and amid sky-high expectations based on ... our last game.

while i would love to believe that the bowl game preparations marked some sort of turning point in which the lights came on for the team from there on out, it's just really hard to say.

we play texas, oklahoma, texas christian and oklahoma state now. we've got a new defensive scheme and the loss of some big-time contributors on that side of the ball.

we're dealing with some of college football's most elite and dominant teams now. we won't be allowed any "off" games.

and if we're still looking back at january glory when september rolls around, there are still three teams more than eager to knock our blocks off before league play begins.

we've got another thing coming if we believe last season's big win translates to victories this fall.