L'il Lenin

We rented a house with another family in Cape Cod. It's a nice place, but it does not get the YES Network...instead, they have something here called NESN, but there's really nothing on for some reason. And people don't seem to like my Yankees cap very much...strange.

The other family are old friends of ours, and in a weird way we are celebrating the five year anniversary of our last trip to Cape Cod. This trip has three new participants: Bud, and our friend's two children: a three-year-old and a sixteen-month-old...all girls. The toy situation is pretty funny, everyone's interested in everything. Bud grabs the younger sister's toy, which prompts me to give the "share" speech...and it went something like this...

"Bud, you should share. Because, if you share your toys with others, they will share your toys with you....and then everyone has more toys to play with!"

My friend hears this, and calls from the other room: "Sounds like communism to me." Touche'.

Why he's a good parent: apparently, about three weeks ago, the older daughter declares, "I want beers." Plural. Awesome.

P.S. I'm old. I gave the "you should share" speech. Last week I was the "adult" in "children below this height must be accompanied by an adult."

Yodl-aye-EEEE-hoooo!

Bud got her first tooth! Newmommy noticed it by accident on Monday afternoon.

That's parenthood for you...everything's a milestone, and every day is a different celebration. Last week, not only did Bud sit up on her own for the first time, but I also heard her yodel. You're probably laughing at my taking note of this milestone, but do you remember your first yodel? I didn't think so. (Readers from Switzerland excluded, obviously.)

Acknowledge the Cuteness

Hey! When I am walking down the street with my baby, and she's babbling at all of the passersby, I know it's the cutest thing you've seen a day (her, not me, although I'm pretty damn cute if I do say so my damn self). This little ten-month-old is trying to explain something to you while eating her toes...yes, objectively, that is cute. So, smile dammit. Don't just walk by pretending not to notice...I know you saw her; so acknowledge the cuteness.

You don't have to stop and chat; you don't need to ask how old she is (10 months), does she have teeth yet (no), does she sleep through the night (yes), how long does she sleep (12 hours, typically)...just acknowledge the cuteness.

I'm Going to Have to Kick My Own Ass

We found out over the weekend that friends of ours are pregnant. Well, actually the woman of the couple is the pregnant one, but pregnancy is pretty rough on the men too, so I guess I can credit them both with the pregnancy. Anyway, we got on the subject of current movies and, as a new father, I haven't had many movie-going opportunities recently. But that is no excuse for what I said..."Get your movies in now!" Have I forgotten what it was like being a soon-to-be-newdaddy...all the unsolicited advice? The minute the words left my mouth I cringed that I had said that...and Newmommy was quick to call me out on it. Man, I love this chick.

In other news, this morning when Newmommy and I opened Bud's door, she was sitting up in her crib, talking to her stuffed animals. She turns and looks at us as if to say "What are you looking at?" Bud sits up on her own now, I guess.

In other other news, I have recaptured my winning Yankees-game attendance record, improving last night to 3-2. I'm beating Clemens!

The Hall of Lost Stuff

Tonight we salute my old pair of glasses. I purchased them in August of 2001, right after the bar exam, and right before I started working at my former firm. Through those glasses, I saw a lot: Europe, my honeymoon, late nights at the office...but, alas, I will see through those glasses no more. Their fate was met at the hands of my daughter last week, when she grabbed the glasses off my face, shook them, and broke one of the arms off. Godspeed, glasses.

Short post, I know...Cablevision is giving a preview of the MLB package and, where as before I was only watching one game, I can now watch three or more. Awesome. But completely unnecessary.

Baby

"You didn't know English that whole first year of your life. You had that made-up, like, goo-goo, gaa-gaa baby language. It was really irritating." - Phil Weston (played by Will Ferrell) in "Kicking and Screaming"

Bud has said her first word: "Baby." She's actually been saying it for a few weeks now, but I hadn't been sure that it was her real first word. The real first word had two tests: first, it had to be a real English word, no baby nonsensical words like "ma-ma," "da-da," or "Red Sox." A few weeks ago, she was babbling something that sounded like baby, but it was only recently that it was full-on "baby." Second, the word couldn't be mumbled accidentally. Bud's said things like "oat bran," "baked potato," and "burlap," but all of it was babble (or a burp). The word had to be associated somehow with something she was looking at. Over the past few weeks, she's said "baby" every time she sees her reflection or sees another baby, in a picture or on the street.

I always thought that Bud's first word was going to just happen one day, and that I wouldn't just realize it in retrospect. I figured one day, I'd be sitting in the kitchen, feeding Bud puffs (or, as I like to call it, "Baby Crack"), when she would turn to me and say "Daddy!" The game-show bells would ring, and we would record the date in Bud's book-o-memories.

It didn't happen that way, but I'll take it.

P.S. I did not find "Kicking and Screaming" that funny, but the quote just worked.

Bud's "Best-of" Album

Having now passed the ten-month birthday, Bud is clearly demonstrating "likes." When I discover new favorites, I'll share them with you. Let's get the list started:

• The "So-Big" Game. Even though nobody asks "how big is Bud?" She puts her hands in the air regardless. She has yet to wave them around like she just doesn't care, though.
• Mariachi Bands. Take a ten-month-old to a Mexican restaurant right around bed time...see what happens when a loud Mariachi band comes out. The baby cries, right? Wrong, Bud started laughing and clapping.
  
• Dogs. I don't know where she gets this from...Newmommy and I aren't dog people. In fact, we're considering telling her that one of us is allergic if she asks for one! However, when a dog comes over to Bud, she giggles and snorts (which, as they say in those commercials is "Cute at one, no so cute at twenty-one.")
  
• Mirrors. She's so vain, she probably thinks this post is about her.
  
• Zippers. No idea.
  

That's good for now; I want to get back to the All-Star Game. I'm in the camp that thinks the whole home-field advantage thing is pretty dumb but, as a Yankees fan, it's been working out in our best interest. It just kills me to be rooting for David Ortiz.

And, while watching the Home Run Derby last night, I realized that the winner, Vladimir Guerrero looks just like Coolio. Observe below (strange that I found a picture of Coolio in an Angels jersey...)

Toilet Humor

Pop quiz, hotshot. You're at a friend's house and you've really gotta take a whizz. You go into the guest bathroom and, on top of the toilet seat is the plastic "mini-toilet seat" that your friend uses to train his three-year-old. You can't quite lift the toilet seat, as the mini-toilet doesn't go up all the way. Oh, and you're a guy. What do you do...what do you do?

A. Remove the mini-toilet seat and reattach it when you are done.

B. Do the pee-while-holding-the-seat maneuver.

C. Find an alternative to the bathroom: a third or master bathroom, behind a tree outside, the sink....

D. Hope that your aim is on.

A is a bit of a pain, and, if you're like me, sometimes those clip/strap adjustable things don't work out quite right. C may not be an option in some houses, during the winter or if there are a lot of people around. And we all know the risks of B and D.

Thoughts?

Oh, and if our dinner hosts from last night are reading this, you can rest easy...your toilet seat went all the way up, so I did not need to resort to any questionable methods.

Or did I?

My Formula Brings all the Boys to the Yard

Friends of ours invited us to a Fourth of July BBBQ. There were about six couples, Bud and one of the other couple's 16-month-old boy. And, when you're a near-ten-month-old, if someone knows someone of similar age, they always want to set you up.

At around dessert time, the little boy awoke from his nap and was brought downstairs to meet this chick everyone's been talking about. "It's on!!" yells the host.

He slowly approaches Bud, who catches him in the corner of her eye. She turns to him, and being the social one, gives him a smile. Then, she let out a scream of joy: "AAAAHHHH!" That's where it ended: the boy got scared, cried, and I think crapped himself.

Bud needs to learn to play hard-to-get...either that, or be a bit less intimidating.

She did look upset when the little boy got scared, and I could of sworn the look on her face was one of "what did I do wrong?"

They Fight and Fight and Fight, This is See-wee-uhs

Let me bring you back to my childhood for a moment (RSS readers click through):



And now a little peek into Bud's cartoon experiences:





There apparently have been a lot of changes over the past twenty-or-so years. Today's cartoons are teaching children teamwork, foreign languages and problem-solving skills. The cartoons of my day merely taught that explosives and the Acme corporation could basically solve any problem. If Bud is in the middle of the woods in South America, she's going to have no trouble whatsoever finding "Fiesta Island," so long as no sneaky little foxes try to jack her backpack. That's fantastic, the best I can say is: I'm all set if a coyote ever tries to run me off of a cliff.

P.S. In researching today's post I found this. A little bit of old-meets-new. Wonderpets fans: don't click.

P.P.S. I want to preserve a bit of anonymity...but I want to thank a certain North Carolinianite with two kids, one of which loves Percy, for inspiring this post.