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Catholic School made me a Sinner
I put in twelve years of Catholic school... I was released on my on recognizance but served parole under the watchful eyes of a Baptist College. You could say I was "institutionalized" and feared life on the outside.
Judah defending the Earth from missles
Judah and I playing Missle Command on my arcade machine. At two years old, he’s just a button masher.
21 Months in 9 Minutes (video)
I guess there was a time when parents would have to go through and purge the photo drawer to make room for more? The SD card on my phone is almost maxed out with clips I’ve shot since Judah’s birth. Here is the last 21 months edited down to 9 minutes.
My Days are now in Song
I’ve been home for too long and apparently have had too few conversations with adults.
I’ve been off for a few weeks and have spent a majority of that time with a child who only utters a few simple things… more like breaths with some noises attached. He’s experimenting with passing air over his vocal chords.
We’ve had lots of one sided conversations and most of them in song.
It’s like a chess game with myself… again, in song. “Oh you’re gonna play the knight I see… then I guess my Rook it will have to be.”
Most of these conversations end with me singing, “No more rhymes… I mean it!”
And I wait and wait and wait but he never answers. So I do and laugh, “Anybody want a peanut!”
I laugh and swear that this is the end of that game but I get slap happy and it starts all over again. I’ll trip over a toy and sing about why daddy is such a klutz.
The rhymes never make any sense and often start with, “Take it from me boy…”
And they are never set to a good tune!
Try as I can to get them out to a Dead or a Phish riff or even The Beatles but my rhythmic abilities stretch only as far as tunes like “Take me out the ballgame” or “For he’s a jolly good fellow”. What the hell is that about? I’ve a got a wide range of tracks in my head don’t I? I’ll take a Wiggles mix or even a song about cooking up a grilled cheese with a backdrop of the “Three’s Company” theme over 1940′s birthday melodies.
I was able to get a simple verse from Shakedown Street the other day. “Eat, Eat, Eat… yes it’s time to eat.” But that is where it ends.
I’m no singer/songwriter.
In the past, every time I’d attempt to toss trash into a can and miss I’d remark… “This is why I fly airplanes.”
The same response now applies when I find myself singing a horrid remix to the baby. “This is why I fly airplanes.”
Or rather it’s, “Take it from me my boy, this is why I fly planes… yes just like your toy.”
Must Have Been a Hard Three Hours at Daycare
I dropped him off at daycare before lunch with the plan of only having him there for three hours while I ran some errands.
Three hours.
He was there for three hours!
Part of that was lunch. He was falling asleep in my arms as I carried him to the car. How much energy could a kid burn in three hours?
Knowing that there would be a pretty solid nap in our future upon arrival I knew I had to get him home in the amount of time it takes me to give my passenger boarding briefing. “Son, from the flight deck. Welcome aboard… we should be on our way soon. Expect a couple of bumps on our climb out but it should smooth out and be a pretty nice ride for us at our cruising altitude…”
He’s asleep.
We’ve hardly left the parkinglot.
Daycare must be earning their keep.
Although I’m home often on weekdays and have the option to be with him almost exclusively I feel I am running out of ways to keep him entertained and enriched.
Obviously! He never passes out after just a few hours of playtime with me.