Archives for category: Play

Not that I would ever do such a thing…on purpose.  But, accidentally?  I could see that happening.  So far, I haven’t done anything to scar my son physically.  Emotionally, I’ve probably wreaked havoc on him.  (There’s a small chance I won’t know until he’s moved out of the house.)

I was reading an article the other day about dangers on a playground.  What I didn’t know was that I could be dangerous enough to break my kid’s leg.

A slide is fun to, er, slide on.  And even though I’m in my late 20’s (ok, early-30’s)  (ok, mid-30’s for Tebow’s sake!), I still get a kick out of scooting down the slide.  (Whee!)  As a father, I want to maximize our laughs on the playground.  So naturally, I perch Gavin atop my lap and we go down the slide together.  (Whee!)  We’ve done it quite a few times already.

But, here’s where it gets dangerous.  If you are sliding down the slide with your child and his/her shoe gets caught under you, the force of your additional weight may be enough to break the child’s leg or injure him or her substantially.

For the physics nerds out there:

  • On top of a slide:  The potential energy of a parent + child > The potential energy of child
  • Potential energy becomes kinetic energy as the parent + child (or child alone) go down the slide.  Disregard thermal energy such as friction burning the seat of your pants on the way down.
  • If a child is sliding down the slide by himself, he may be able to put a foot down to slow and stop himself.  The kinetic force is turned into thermal energy and result in burned rubber on the shoes!
  • If a parent and child are sliding down the slide together, the child may try to put a foot down to slow and stop himself.  But, the kinetic energy of both parent and child may be too great and the mechanical energy of the child’s foot may not be enough to slow and stop parent and child.  Thus, child’s mechanical energy is overcome by the kinetic energy and fracture of bone may occur on descent.  Voila!  Child has broken leg and you are to blame.  Bad parent, bad!

So, in other words, be careful on the playground!  You don’t want to have to go home to your wife and tell her that you broke her kid’s leg.  But, in case you find yourself in this predicament, use one of these 3 excuses to get off scott-free:

  1. He was getting beat up at the playground and we tried to escape by sliding down the slide.  But, _____ (fill in your child’s name here) tried to jump off the slide to retaliate and got his leg stuck under me and broke it.  Our boy’s got the fight of a lion, doesn’t he?  (MAKE YOUR KID THE HERO.)
  2. We climbed to the top of the slide to get a better view of playground and he slipped.  I dove down to save _____ from falling and hitting his head.  As I caught little _____ in my lap, his foot got caught under me and broke.  Don’t worry though, it could have been worse if he broke his head.  (MAKE YOURSELF THE HERO.)
  3. We were at the playground and suddenly, there was this light beam that came down from the sky and started pulling _____ towards a hovering space ship.  I jumped up and grabbed _____.  In falling from the tractor beam’s pull, we landed on the slide.  The impact of the fall caused me to land on _____’s leg, breaking it.  Thank Tebow, it was only a fracture.  Just think what would have happened if the aliens got him.  (THIS ONE’S A LONG SHOT.)

Original article:

Riding the Slide with Your Toddler in Your Lap Could Break Her Leg

You Aliens Have to Try Harder Against These Intelligent Lifeforms!!

We did!  Our world-famous San Diego Zoo passes arrived in the mail, so off we went to see the animals today!

Boy, did we miss the zoo!  (Ok, I missed the zoo.  Worm can’t tell the difference between stuffed and live animals yet.)

Today was the perfect day to visit the zoo.  It was cool and overcast outside and you know what that means?  If you get to the zoo early enough, you can see the creatures out and about doing their thing (i.e. stretching their legs, eating breakfast, reading the paper).  We got to see them up close and personal doing their morning routine!

Since the San Diego Zoo is so large and the time between Gavin naps is so small, we can’t tackle the entire park in one shot.  So, we choose where we want to go the democratic way! By a show of hands, who wants to see the leopards? My hand goes up ecstatically.  By a show of hands, any oppose?  Worm is picking at the Vel-cro on his shoes, which, incidentally, negates all voting privileges!  Hooray!  We are going to see the leopards!

I’ve got about 90 minutes to find the leopards, see everything else along the way, and get back to Eleanor (my faithful Land Cruiser).

As we pass through the zoo, I see: capybara, kopje, elephants, rattlesnakes, condors, zebra, giraffe, secretary birds, peacocks, flamingos, leopards, wow!

As we pass through the zoo, Worm sees: something furry, zooworker sweeping up trash, something furry, metal sign, something huge and not-so-furry, cable railing, something slithery, sprinkler head, something feathery, a baby, something stripy and not-so-furry, a tour bus wheel, something super tall and not-so-furry, a zooworker equipment truck, a zooworker pushing a large trash bin, a machine that presses pennies into zoo pictures, silicone sealant between two pieces of glass, wow!

It’s amazing how two people can go to the same place and see it so differently, eh?

 

How do I explain to Worm that you can see things like sprinkler heads, babies and tour bus wheels outside of the zoo?  Instead of going to the zoo, we could have just taken public transportation through downtown San Diego.  He probably would have been more interested…

Maybe next time, I’ll drop him off at the bus stop with an all day transfer pass and I’ll go to the zoo!

The San Diego zoo is awesome! There’s so much to see!

The Worm has jealousy in his little body.  The new emotion must have wired itself into his brain last night.  Because today he wants to be the object of my affection…but only when Duncan and I are having our Daddy-Dunkie time.  And if I don’t respond to Worm immediately, I am made to suffer some ear-splitting and slimy consequences.  (Can you say spoiled attachment parenting?)

Back in the day (or 8 months ago), Worm was easy to care for:  feed, change, sleep, and occasionally bathe.  No talking back, no temper tantrums, no whining.  He’d just lay back and enjoy the view from whatever surface we’d Velcro his onesie to.  Those days are gone.  He’s heavily interacting with the environment now and picking up new tricks everywhere.  (It seems his brain is developing so quickly that I swear he’s figured out how to work his baby mind meld on me, even through my force shield!)  Where else would he learn about the world, but by watching his furry brothers!

Duncan and Frodo are Worm’s older siblings.  It’s only natural that he thinks he’s a dog too.  (Maybe I could fatten him up by feeding him from the dog bowl…hmm.)  And as the youngest one in the family, he picks up some habits and tricks from his hairy bros.  The best trick Worm has learned is growling.  (It’s useful for when I’m at the supermarket and people want to hold Gavin.  I make him growl and let the would-be-handler know that he hasn’t had his shots yet.)  The worst trick is the jealous whining.  (Thanks Duncan.)  Worm’s realized that whining lands you in the lap and affections of daddy.  In our house, the squeaky wheel gets a lot of grease!

60% of the Time, It Works Every Time!

Since my type-A personality has me multitasking on just about everything, I also try to multitask family fun time.  (Do you see anything wrong with that?)  100% utilization of my arms is important to maximizing my distribution of entertainment to the family.  For instance, during play time I’ll try to distract Worm in his play area for about 10 minutes with one hand.  With the other hand, I’ll pet Duncan.  Or, I’ll play tug-of-war with Duncan on one arm, while holding Worm in the other.  (I’ll need to get fitted with a third arm when the next child comes.)  If I wiggle my arms just right, there’s amusement for the entire family.

But, the second Worm feels like Duncan is getting more attention than he, out comes the jealous fits!

If I don’t answer the call of the little wildman, the volume increases and the tears fall freely.  Only after I’ve transfixed my full attention on Gavin, do the sprinklers stop.

Just wait until we decide to have another kid, Worm.  Your world (and mine) will completely shatter unless I can figure out how to keep everyone happy!  (Maybe cloning myself will become an option by then.)

Gavin – 11; Daddy – 5

A few days ago, Gavin and I started swim lessons…and we were thrown into a pool full of sharks new moms. No jokes, barely a few smiles, and minimal conversation chilled the air. I felt like the proverbial fish out of water. I envisioned we’d all buddy up over latte half-cafs and pedicures and discuss our new post-partum bodies or something. Nope. Not happening. I barely got a ‘Hi’ from any of them.

After consorting with the over-emotional side of humankind (and getting the cold shoulder), I decided to check out the more easy-going side.  I signed up on Meetup to meet a few SAHDs (Stay-At-Home Dads) in my neighborhood.

I must say that I was pretty excited to get Worm around some testosterone.  There’s just a little bit more reality and a little less drama when it comes to hanging out with most men.  Also, I figured that the meet and greet would be good for Worm to balance out his aqua acrobatics with some terra firma tumbling.

The meetup was at the local playground.  We get there early and meet the dad running the whole show.  His boy was about the same age as Gavin.  Since his son was walking, I thought it would be great for Worm to take some pointers from a peer.  But, Worm wasn’t impressed.  He repeated the same behavior as he did in the pool, clinging to me like I was the best daddy on earth…or the last.

I spent 45 minutes trying to get him to relax enough to put his feet on the ground.  I brought his toys out and ran them through the sand, tossed the ball around, and played with the fixtures in the playground.  (In case you were wondering, I had a blast!)  Worm just watched with apprehension and partial disgust.

Then I had an idea.  I pried Worm’s hands from my body, plopped him in the swing, and ran away as fast as I could.  When I returned 3 hours later, he was still in the swing.  So, I snapped off a picture.

Swinging in the Park

Just kidding.  Here’s how the stats played out:

  • 45 minutes of staring at the playground
  • 5 minutes in the swing
  • 20 minutes of whining
  • 10 minutes with xylophone toy
  • 15 minutes of whining
  • 15 minutes of sandbox time

Then it was time to leave.

Overall, I would say that the park visit was a success.  I got a taste of what the other new dads were up to.  Worm got a taste of playground sand and recycled rubber tires.  It was a nice change from last week’s swimming lesson.

The only thing missing was beer.  That’s why the next meetup is at a kid-friendly pub.  (Come on, new dads + kids + beer = gigaloads of fun!  What could possibly go wrong?)

SAHM‘s eat your heart out.

Dad, wasn't it F = (M x a) where a = omega squared divided by r?

He hates it.

We are the type of people who don’t want to buy our kid the best gear only to find out later he isn’t really interested.  (Yep, we’re cheap bastards.)  When it comes to helmets, I just don’t see how a child, especially a baby, is going to know the difference between an $80 helmet and half a coconut shell.  Since we want Worm to spend more time wearing his helmet than eating it, we opted for a non-food based one (although I’m sure the manufacturer used corn in there somewhere).  Steph found a shiny blue Winnie the Pooh helmet on the clearance shelf at Target.  It didn’t look like it had been used and returned.  It looked new!  Being that the only other option in that Target was a pink Barbie helmet (which obviously would have emasculated our boy), we snatched up the blue Pooh one.  (We didn’t snatch it as in we stole it.  We purchased it…we’re not that cheap!)

The only other thing to do before we went up to the counter was try it on.  We put the helmet on Worm to see if it would fit his noggin.  And this was his response:

Dad, This Helmet Doesn't Match My Shirt!

I think if he would have ripped the helmet off any faster, he would have lost some hair with it.  Since there’s no arguing with the baby, we did the adult thing.  We bought the helmet and went home to torture him with it until he liked it.

On a side note, you should check the link below to find out what the laws are for your child when it comes to helmet wearing in your city or state.  There is no federal law requiring riders to wear helmets, but some cities require helmets for every age.

This is Gavin’s second St. Patrick’s Day!  Last year, at this time he was -1 month old for the St. Patty’s Day Parade.  His view of the parade was something akin to this:

A Worm's Eye View of St. Patty's Day Parade 2011

This year was the first time in recent memory that it rained (Albert Hammond lied. It does rain here.) on St. Patty’s Day.  The weather was chilly (in the 50’s) as well.  Let’s just say that Worm was probably wishing for warmth and coziness of the previous year.

 

 

He weathered the storm long enough to drink a Guinness and see a few leprechauns!

Want to see my lucky charms?

And when the water fell from the sky, we southern Californians thought it was a sign of the apocalypse…and ran for cover.  But, we couldn’t leave  without making Worm relive some of the fondness of the previous year’s parade.  So we stuffed the Worm in Daddy’s utero and he fell asleep.

Daddy, Your Womb is Almost as Cozy as Mommy's. Almost.

 

Happy St. Patty’s Day!

I always knew Gavin was a chip off the old block.  We’ve got quite a few things in common:  similar haircuts; similar builds; we both love Steph and mangos; both our first names end in ‘n’.  Now, we both like bikes!

I loved biking ever since I moved to southern California (SoCal).  I started seriously mountain biking after getting laid off from my first job.  I did some fairly aggressive mountain biking back then and at one time, I owned a bike that was worth much more than my car.  I biked a lot until I got Steph pregnant.  Then, my trail time disappeared.  I haven’t really ridden my bike since then.

But recently, I was brainstorming about how I was going to find some extra time to start cycling again.  I ran across some cool baby bike trailers in the bike section of Craigslist.  They looked like fun.  I would do all the pedaling and Worm would get to sit back and watch the cars go by.  So, I did my research and found that these baby bike trailers are not cheap.  Not wanting to spend top dollar for something I didn’t know Worm would like, I found a used one for a good price and picked it up.

Enter the Burley D’Lite 2006 Edition.

Dad, do you know what you're doing?

So, I hooked up the D’Lite to my mountain bike to see how it all looked.  Worm seemed to approve.  It’s just that I have about 15 extra screws and I don’t know where they go…

Next, I had to figure out how to adjust the seatbelts.  It only took about 10 minutes for me to realize the instructions were stitched to the Burley and staring me in the face.  So, I figured I may as well take a lookie loo.

This is going to take some getting used to...for both of us.

The careful, responsible father in me thought it would be a bad idea to hop on the bike and fly down the hill at 25 mph.  (Ok, it’s because grandma was watching and she would have killed me.)  So, I walked the bike for a few minutes to gauge Worm’s reaction.

 

Forget about helmets!  Let’s ride!

Cruisin' With the Wind in Our Hair!

(Ok, don’t be stupid.  Always wear a helmet when you ride a bike unless you’re interested in brain damage or death from head trauma.  The pictures shown here have been staged and altered to look as if I am riding.  I’ve photoshopped out the guy wires and parachute pack to make me look daring and dangerous!