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Missing the Milestones

January 30, 2012 //
3

When people describe other people’s inadequacies, they may say to you…”So and so has a great personality!”  which translates into “So and so is ugly as sin.”  Or…”So and so is an incredible athlete”  which means “So and so can’t think his way out of a paper bag.”  Well, we think Gavin may be the athletic type.  (Which is disappointing for now, unless we can later exploit his athletic prowess for millions of dollars.)

Pediatricians have developed a way to measure mental growth in children.  There are milestones for you (and them) to observe and chart your child’s progress.  It is based upon the average age at which babies learn to do things such as giggle, wave, make eye contact, turn when called, etc.  This milestone checklist is partly so doctors can catch abnormalities early in baby brain development.  More importantly though, milestones are used for parents to quietly rank their own child against their friends’ kids.

In the beginning, Gavin was smarter than average.  Smiling, laughing, rolling over, fetching  (or was that Duncan?).  Gavin was passing the milestones early by weeks, if not an entire month.  We would visit with the pediatrician and made sure she knew how advanced our prodigy was.  She would check off the milestone boxes on the Worm’s medical chart and we would make sure she documented the additional parlor tricks of our young Einstein.  Oh, how we enjoyed weekends at the park, jeering and throwing yogurt drops at all of the ‘normal’ kids falling off swings and tripping over themselves in the grass.  Our child was so much smarter than THAT!

Durp.

Well that’s changed, and not for the better.  Gavin’s almost 10 months old and has missed a few milestones already.  He doesn’t mimic any sounds we make (except for burping and farting).  He doesn’t say mama or dada.  He uses his forehead as an extra limb.  There’s no baby sign language coming off his hands even though I’ve been teaching him how to sign “eat” for 6 months now.  (At least, I’m learning sign language…)

Let’s just say that if licking the sliding glass door, dragging your face over the carpet, and chewing power cords comprised the milestone checklist, the Worm is in the 99th percentile.  But alas, he is doomed to be either an athlete, or worse, a reality TV actor.

 

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Categories Education

Please Drive Forward and Enjoy the Fruits of Your Wife’s Labor

January 27, 2012 //
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750 mm by 1050 mm (30 in by 42 in) Preferentia...

Image via Wikipedia

Forget what I said in an earlier post about losing 30 minutes of my life.  I wasn’t in my right mind.  Today, Tebow shines on my brain and blesses me with a stroke of genius!

I’m driving along and I see the usual signs on the local freeway:  merging traffic, exit only, carpool – 2 or more…wait, 2 or more?  I’ve got two or more in the car.  In fact, I’ve got three in the car at the moment!  Me, Gavin and Duncan = 3!  I can’t believe it!  I’m 2 or more!  I’m 2 or more!  The sign doesn’t say anything about the description of 2 or more, just 2 or more!  The pint-sized progeny finally has a purpose.

Wow!  So, now I’m entitled (well, aren’t all Californians entitled?) to a new entitlement!  I can use the carpool lane!

I see myself saving minutes of freeway driving every week now.  Added up over the course of a few months, I may save enough time to go for a good mountain biking excursion!

All I need is to do is bring the baby wherever I go.  Rush hour traffic?  No problem.  Put the baby in the car.  Morning traffic?  No problem.  Put the baby in the car!  (What else has he got to do?  Nothing!  He’s a baby!)  Minutes saved from traffic will become hours and hours will become days!  This baby isn’t a time vortex anymore, he’s a time machine!

I finally understand why having kids is so rewarding.  Thank you, Tebow!  Hallelujah!

Gavin is the gift that keeps on giving…on the freeway!

Gavin – 5; Dad – 3

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Categories Random Thoughts

The Baby Mind Meld…

January 26, 2012 //
2

I work one day during the week.  Let me back up here.  I go play for one day a week at my office and I leave the “work” to a babysitter.  She takes the Worm all day and I get some much needed adult time.  During this glorious day, I carry on conversations with people other than myself!  I see clients and do adult things like speak in full sentences.  I look forward to it.  It’s a brief, but welcome respite from my SAHD duties.  (I just found out that there’s an acronym for me, Stay At Home Dad or SAHD).  In other words, getting a day at the office keeps me sane and able to handle the rest of my week, sort of like what coke does for Charlie Sheen.

Yesterday morning, Gavin was cranky.  Not happy with the rigors of baby life, he wouldn’t stop fussing.  (You know those mornings, right?)  So, I decided to get him over to the babysitter’s early, so that she could deal with him spend more face time with him.  I grabbed everything I needed for his day (car seat, diaper bag, food, formula, toys, stroller) and everything I needed for mine (kit, backpack, laptop, phone, treatment table, travel bin, lunch, tea).  The truck was packed and ready to go.  The only forgotten item was my brain.  Leaving the house was a blur for me.  I could only remember bits of it.  There’s no other valid reason for this except the baby mind meld.  (Has he been watching Star Trek re-runs late at night?)  In that clever Spock-like maneuver, Gavin jostled my mental acuity and I drove away from the house with the garage door open.  A brief moment of clarity made me realize it once I got on the freeway.  I panic and turn around to race home.  All I’m visualizing is a group of neighbors standing in front of my garage, mouths agape, and the Hoarders TV crew filming their next episode.  Luckily, as I approached the house there was no one there.  (What? Am I not good enough for Hoarders?)  I close the garage and leave again…for the second time.

At this point, I’ve lost 30 minutes of my life (actually, I don’t want that 30 minutes back.  Keep it.)  I head back to my original destination, the babysitter’s house.  Of course, once I get there, the babysitter is not home.  Her husband tells me that she’s at my house waiting for me.  Brilliant.  I drive back home and drop Gavin off with the babysitter.  (I probably threw him at her, but he deserved it.)  I leave the house again…for the third time.

After all the morning fracas is sorted and I show up late to work, I conveniently lock myself out on the back patio…Argh!  Blast this mind meld trick!  It’s still working on my brain!

Young grasshopper, you have learned the art of confusing your adversary.  You win again.

Gavin = 5; Dylan = 2

Don't worry, it won't happen again. I'm wearing protection. 😉

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Categories MVG Oddities

The Veggie Wedgie

January 14, 2012 //
8

[WARNING:  Graphic Image Below.  If baby poop scares you, then don’t scroll down.  It’s worse than seeing baby seals getting clubbed.]

I know this is an odd place for this post, but hear me out. What I’m about to show you was once a tasty vegetable growing out of mother Earth. So, yes. It does belong here in the food category of my blog.

The veggie wedgie is probably the best baby poop ever to walk the earth. Or at least the best poop ever to be attached to your baby’s bum. It doesn’t stink obscenely, nor is it a mess to clean. It just peels right off and leaves practically no residue! Heck, sometimes you don’t even have to waste a wet wipe.  The baby’s wedgie is akin to that two-foot no-wipe chocolate cigar that you occasionally pinch off, pat yourself on the back for, want to show your friends, and say goodbye to before flushing down the toilet. (You know what I mean.) If Gavin was old enough to understand, he would be proud. But, since something this magnitude can always be appreciated by a friend or close relative, I’ll be proud for him…and I’ll take a photo to show him later.

The veggie wedgie can be made from many different types of vegetables. (Gavin’s lucky to have a mom that makes most of his food fresh every week.) The wedgie staring you in the face is one such food combination.  Well, it probably has a little yogurt and rice cereal sprinkled in there too.  The wedgie is pressure-formed and heat-shaped due to that very hairy crack that God placed at the top of our legs for us to scratch.  (No not that crack, the other one.)

Now, that I think about it, you are probably wondering why I’m so excited about this. Well, I’m an acupuncturist and I talk about poop with all my patients.  Proper digestive system function is extremely important for overall body health.  Poor gastrointestinal flora can lead to all sorts of systemic issues, most visibly skin problems.  So, to bring this blog out of the gutter I leave you with some basic info on baby poop (Aren’t you tired of seeing the word poop yet?)

  • Baby poops while breastfeeding should not be terribly odoriferous.  They should also be liquid-like with possible small chunks.  They can also come in pastel colors.  If it’s red poop or blood-stained for more than one or two bowel movements, you should notify your pediatrician.  (But if you fed the baby beets a day or two before, it is likely his/her poops could be red.)
  • If your baby is formula fed as an infant, his/her stools will be more stinky and more formed.
  • In the early months, breastfed babies are typically leaner than formula fed babies.
  • Generally, when baby starts staring at you eating food or trying to grab food from you, he/she is probably getting ready to start eating solid foods.  Gavin started eating solids at 6 months old.
  • Solid foods usually bring solid poops.  Obviously, there is some transition for baby’s gastrointestinal system to prepare for digestion of solid foods.
  • Make a habit of using your five senses to monitor your baby’s stools, and consequently his/her digestive health.  Well, maybe use only 4 out of the 5 senses.  You pick which 4.

Don't be afraid! It's only vegetables...sort of.

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Categories Food

Moving Violation On the Couch

January 14, 2012 //
0

You figure it out...and yes that is leopard print carpet.

So, I don’t want us to get off on the wrong foot here. I mean, I’m a good dad. I’ve got a clean record with the police station. Sort of. It’s just that every now and then, I get distracted. (Once again Steph, you’re right…) I disappeared from the living room for a split second and I may have missed the youngest acrobatic trick ever performed. I’m perplexed and still wondering how it happened.

The Worm is only 9.35 months old. He just started crawling this past Christmas day as a gift to us! Yes, I know…so cute and adorable as long as you’ve got a leash securing him safely to a post. Managing Gavin used to be a piece of cake, you know. Just lay him down to drink his milk and I go play on the computer for 30 minutes. Of course, I would always keep my ears peeled for that air-sucking noise from the empty bottle and return to find all’s well and baby is satiated.

Ok, so knowing (or still believing) that the Worm can’t get off the couch, I follow my couch feeding routine. Stuff Gavin between couch cushions (every dad knows this trick) with a bottle and let him go to town. I leave towards the kitchen for literally 2 seconds (or a couple more, but hey, who’s counting?) and I hear a little THUD. I go back to the living room and see the Worm on all fours smiling up at me from the ground. The milk bottle is still on the couch nicely tucked between the cushions which previously held a little body.

Now, mind you…the kid can barely stand on his own two feet, let alone jump from the couch. He just started crawling a couple weeks ago! So, I had to exercise my brain a bit to figure this one out. Using my engineering mind, I realized that the spacing between the couch and the coffee table is about 18 inches. He obviously didn’t hit the coffee table on his way down. Also, there is enough altitude between the couch and the ground (about 20 inches) for Gavin to complete the 540 degree somersault necessary to stick the landing. As long as he tucked his limbs in properly. Which of course, he must have.

Bela Karolyi, if you’re reading this, I think we have found the next Paul Hamm.

Gavin – 2; Dad – 0

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Categories Play
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