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Monday, February 16, 2009

Cry Hard With a Vengeance

Happy Tuesday, my People! I think your correspondent experienced the first real fear about Jack growing up. The night before last, I was just stunned that the child is 7 months old. It seems like only a few weeks ago I was pulling into Shipley's for a quick doughnut as Melanie agonized in pain out in the car. After I hit Starbuck's for a java jolt. Ah, the memories.

Anyway, I felt the time just ticking by and it was frighteningly tangible. Yeah, so I still have impatient thoughts of wanting so much to see what kind of man this little drooling person will become, maybe even long after they box yours truly up in the macabre giftwrap. But those thoughts now are tempered with the fear of him growing up - no, not him growing up, that's not it. Fear of these days being gone. Me and the missus had ye olde Counting Crows on the ship's phonograph last night and there's a certain line about "hold[ing] on to these moments as they pass." Right.

I assume all the moms are nodding, since they understand the subject only too well. But remember, coming from the dad side of things on this, it's customary to just laugh this off as the mom-folk getting too sentimental. It's kind of an eye roll and go about fixing the car kind of thing (we dad-folk do that a lot if you didn't know). But it hit me like a truck that night and I don't know why. Melanie says I need to watch more ESPN. Prolly so.

And now for the update on our illustrious hero and captain:

Facing the Feared Tigress of the Far North
Jack went to see Dr. P, our ship's doctor for something like his 6 or 7 month checkup (lost count, sorry). I think there was an injection involved. Yawn. I know this will come as a shock, but it was discovered that the kid is one tall drink of water. Or "long", depending on which axis you're tape-measuring on. Measurements as recorded by The Tigress are:

17 1/2 lbs (1 1/4 stone), 45th percentile
28 1/4 inches long, 95th percentile
43 3/4 cm (17.2 inches) head circumference, 25th percentile

I don't even know why I bother to list the meaningless head circumference thing. At least I hope it's meaningless or the kid's got sparse room for brains. Might take after his father on that one.

You Mean HE'S In Charge?!
Old dad got to babysit twice (!) this week, one while Her Majesty sauntered on down to the beauty parlor/salon/stylist place, and the other while she got her teeth whittled on by the dentista. Not a great time for either Jackbaby or El Comodoro, I can tell you. There was yelling. And teething pain. And spitting up. And multiple nap refusals. And crying. And I'm not even going to go into what Jack was doing.

FLASH! Latest Parental RevelationThe skipper has moved on to bananas this week. He loves bananas. Loves 'em. He'll gobble them as fast as you can pile them in his little cheeks. I heard one time that bananas are an ideal food, because they taste about the same coming up as they do going down. But let me assure you, that is patently false. There is nothing, NOTHING worse than banana spit up smell. NOTHING. The ship smells like a Burmese POW camp. It's plain bana-nasty.

Yippee Kai-Yay, English Setter!
We have mined COMEDY GOLD on the baby riding dog front. Behold! What makes it funny is that this has never been attempted before. Ever! By the way, I'm not sure who was more worried in this one. And this is probably admissible as evidence in both child endangerment and SPCA suits, but I'm posting it anyway.

And I've found my new favorite family pic (see above). A nice one, even though the chillrun were not on task. At all.

2 comments:

Jennifer said...

That is a great family pic. It will be years before you have him totally looking at the camera for every single pic. As for bananas, the worst part about them for me is that they stain unbelievably!

El Comodoro said...

YES! Who knew that those things stain? We made it thru electric orange carrots and neon yellow squash, and the bananas are the stainers. I want to harass some chemistry guru as to why this is.