Stuff My Son Says.

Today, we played some basketball.

Jack:  "Daddy, you and me will play first.  The invisible people will sit over there and play with themselves."

Me: "I'm glad they're invisible." [ironic half smile]

Fantastic!

I ran across this video this morning and it made me think about Jack at this kid's age, and what a little thespian he's become... and I have a special place for the King's English. [Ed. Note: I prefer the Scottish and Irish accents, but British comes in a close third.  In fact, I would put the Cockney accent in third, guv-nuh, British in fourth.  The Australian accent lost its luster after Crocodile Dundee and when I hear South African I think of the golfing Sasquatch himself, Ernie Els.  So they are tied for fifth.]

Jack loves to stare at himself in the mirror (usually in the middle of dinner), singing, making faces and stringing together silly words as the lyrics to songs he makes up.  Some classics include "He has the whole world in his pants" "Pooh-Pooh in the baby head" and [Extreme Air Guitar Leaping Between Couch Cushion Head-banging Frenzy.]  The last one doesn't have words, just a whole bunch of noises, screaming the word "yeah!" over and over while strumming his air guitar.

"Daddy, Do You Have To Go To Work Today?"

I hear the question almost every day.

"Daddy, do you have to go to work today?"

It seems that a transformation has occurred in the last few months.  A transition in which Jack has realized he and I have more in common than he does with his mother.  From the time he was born, he was attached at the hip to Ashley.  He wanted her to put him to bed, to feed him, to comfort him when he was sick.  But recently, his tune has changed.  He yearns for time spent with me, and I've enjoyed the transformation.

But having to answer his question daily, it makes going to work that much harder.

They, it's TJ. Remember us?

Missed us?

Sorry.  This is 100% my fault.  I know, I sent out a semi-humorous letter during the holidays in which I, again, invited you to visit, but there was no new content.  For months.  Again, my fault.  I hate to admit it, but on the daily priority list, this took a back seat to double ear infections, disclosure statements, charitable volunteering,  threatening letters, soccer games, and, yes, my addiction to golf.  And procrastination, but we can talk about that later.

Some of you may keep up with us via Facebook, but like here, Ashley updates that about as frequently as humans visit the moon.  I'm more verbose, but mostly with goofy stuff that I find in the internet when I get a couple of minutes to surf the intrawebz.  Case, in, point. (In my defense, I do like to post photos of the boys there.)

If interested, here are some recent videos I've made with my handy-dandy new Android-powered device, the Motorola Droid, when we took the boys to play some mini-golf.

By way of ultra-quick update, Jack is doing well.  He had his first tee ball practice on Tuesday and impressed the crowd with a barrage of bombs over the heads of the practice squad.  I'm glad he's ready to hit off a tee because he refuses to do so at home, insisting that I lob him the ball, which he drills back at me about 90% of the time.  First game is a week from Saturday, so I'll do my best to get pictures.

Jack remains almost dependent on Xbox 360 which frustrates me to no end.  I have no one to blame but myself because I brought it home.  Now I realize why my parents resisted the Segas and Nintendos when I was younger.  Then again, they didn't play them before having kids, either.  I have to admit, after a long day, it is fun to blast some digital Nazis in high definition to let out a little frustration.  But I fear that Jack has become a bit too needy for our time playing Lego Star Wars.  As much as possible, I try to defer to other (preferably outdoor) activities when we play.

Sam remains the happiest 19 month old alive, but has recently decided to begin testing his limits.  In short, he loves to be naughty.  He is currently (last two days) struggling with a double ear infection, and we may be on the road to tubes.  I'm not thrilled about it (as I fear hearing loss) but left untreated, hearing loss could occur anyways, so we may have to go the tube route regardless. No clue why this has been a persistent problem, but we definitely notice that he's been slower to pick up words than Jack was, but he's by no means behind the guidelines.  The downside of double ear infections (other than the obvious) is that it turns Sam into his "Hyde" side.  That is, he becomes everything he isn't on a normal day: needy, fussy and persistently whining, enough to tax our patience.  Sleep becomes intermittent (up every 2-3 hours throughout the night) which puts additional strain on the two of us.

However, Sam, we've discovered, really digs music.  If I turn on the iPod in the bedroom (it's attached to a stereo) he starts popping up and down and swinging his arms around.  He completes the package with a smile the size of Texas and giggles as I dance with him.  He brightens everyone's day and we are repeatedly receiving comments by strangers of "oh, he's so happy!"

So, to close, I'm intending to try to maintain this with less large "substantive" updates and more short ones with anecdotal stories about the boys (and, when appropriate, Ashley).

Fall 2009 - Soccer

Jack started soccer this fall with Saint Francis Xavier Athletic Association.  He loves it.  

Winning, Losing, and Losing It When You Do

As Jack grows older, we've discovered that he's incredibly competitive by nature. Everything is a competition to him, and we've found that he's greatly motivated if you challenge him to a "duel" if you want him to undertake certain activities. For example, Ashley discovered that in order to get Jack to brush his teeth, she would "race" him to the bathroom. Otherwise, he'd procrastinate and find other things to do. The same applies for getting him to eat his dinner (often I challenge him to eat a number of pieces of food before I can eat the same amount and the previously rejected foods are quickly and voraciously consumed.)

Jack also (as you know) loves to play Wii. Herein lies the downside of this character trait: if he loses at Wii (which happens from time to time, despite my attempts and allowances otherwise) he goes bananas. Like Gwen Stefani "This [stuff] is B-A-N-A-N-A-S" crazy. Writhing on the floor, screaming at the top of his lungs, throwing things nutzoid. It worries me.

It worries me because I can remember my early days playing golf. My dad, knowing the bet was a safe one, would challenge me to golf, straight up (which is a farce unto itself - that's what handicaps were developed for). If I won, he'd buy me a car or a computer or whatever my dream item of the week was for that period. I'd try mightily, and when I hit one errant shot, I'd go, well, bananas. It was the one issue that once I finally dealt with it, opened the door to increased success in my golf game. I worry that Jack will be hampered by this same debilitating problem unless I can help him deal with it.

So the question for us now becomes, "How do we address this issue for good, and still allow Jack to harness his competitive energies?" Being competitive is healthy, but if you can't lose without totally "losing it," you're going to suffer. Just ask Jay Cutler. [Suck on that Jay!]

.. and people honestly told me that buying a cat would help train us to be parents. Yeah, THERE'S some solid advice.

An Update

I've been meaning to post a few things, and just frankly haven't had free time I wanted to devote to it. I guess I'll have to start multi-tasking more often (read: posting on the blog while watching my Wildcats get screwed out of wins by freak plays and brain-fart defense.... but I digress.)

Here are some recent highlights:

• Sam started walking. I intend to post some video (since pictures do little, if any, justice to this event.) He's still in that "drunk midget" stage, where he wobbles and only goes so far, but he's getting better every day. Scary thought.
• Jack played in his first ever organized sports event: a soccer game. He has practice every Tuesday afternoon, and I'm trying to act like an assistant coach.
• Sam's had a little cough that somehow triggers his gag reflex. It's most regretful after his morning and nighttime bottles, which have, at a success rate of about 90%, ended up all over me or Ashley over the past week. Otherwise, he's fine, so we're guessing it's allergy related. To compound matters, however, he's going through a "clingy" stage. A word of advice: a clingy child who barfs frequently isn't good for family morale.
• Jack discovered my old XBox and incorporated it, along with the Wii into his video game obsession. Thankfully, he's taken to NCAA Football (2005, but hey, it's football), and we like to run the triple option so he can make touchdowns. (Of course, we have to play All-Time USC versus the Southeastern Mississippi State Technical Junior College in order to make it easy enough for Jack at this point., but everyone starts somewhere.)
• We've been outside at every chance we get. Summer in AZ is really very much like winter everywhere it snows (and is 30 or below during the day). Going outside is unbearable, so during those months we stay inside, go to McDonald's, or the PV Mall playground with the rest of humanity. Thankfully, we're now free to roam the neighborhood with abandon, to have pizza dinners in the back yard, and otherwise venture beyond our climate-controlled 1500 square abode. Yay October!
• We're selling/donating/giving away all our baby stuff, and I'm REALLY STOKED about that fact. It's going to free up something like 96.8% of the usable storage in our house. I'm not joking.
• I'm counting the days until I get my office back. It became Sam's room when he was born and ever since, my ergonomic corner desk from Office Max has become a dust receptacle. Whenever the doors are open, we stare at each other, longingly, reminiscing of days when we used to sit and actually work together. *sigh* The plan is that next July, when Sam turns two, he'll bunk with big brother Jack, and Desk and I will be back in business.
• Jack's completely consumed by the baseball playoffs. Every day, I'm asked: "Daddy, is baseball on?" While I honestly cannot say I'm tracking the progress of each series, we've probably watched a fair portion of each game. If Jack doesn't play baseball at some level (high school or college), I'll be very surprised. He's consumed by the game, practices batting and running the bases constantly, and has a pretty good arm for a three year old. Spring promises to be exciting when he starts to play T-ball.

Phun With Phonics

In an ongoing effort to ensure that Jack (and, ultimately, Sam) don't become the consumeristic nincompoops that MTV hopes to craft out of the youth of today [man I sound like a 900 year old man saying that, but it gives my parents some validation], we try to read to/with Jack (and Sam) on a regular basis. We have a magnetic alphabet that announceds the phonetics of various letters when you insert the letter into the machine that hangs from our refridgerator (it, too, is magnetic). Most of the time, the letters are simply hazards that I step on when it's dark in the kitchen, but we do, from time to time, use it. So Jack gets the general idea.

From time to time, I'll quiz Jack about letters and phonetics. The other night, I asked him what letter the word "milk" started with, and he began the analysis as such:

TJ: "Jack, what letter does milk start with?"

Jack: "Milk? Mmmmmmm, mmmmmmm, mmmmmmm, milk. ... mmmmmm, mmmmmm,mmmmm, mamma."

TJ: "Very good, "mamma" starts with that letter too. What letter is that?"

Jack: "Mmmmmmm, mmmmmmm, mmmmmmmm, McDonalds."

Golden Arches for the Win!

Jack + Camera = Eternal Hamnation

Jack was treated to a day at the Childrens' museum last Friday with his friends Tyler and "Little" Jack (yes, as Poopwatchgate trundled forward). Thankfully, blogger-mommy Julianne was kind enough to photograph the event and post some photos.

Enjoy the rest of the photos here.

Pottytraining Diaries/Poopwatchgate: The Conclusion

Yep, that is what he's pointing at. It all came out yesterday, in a double header on the porcelain throne.

We'd given up hope. We'd tried logic. It failed. We'd tried peer pressure. That failed, too. We'd resulted to bribery. From the last diapered turd on Thursday morning until the ultimate splashdown, we'd promised Jack the world: New toys from Target, ice cream bars, M&M's, and, the coup de gras, Wii Sports Resort (I was rooting hard for this reason, alone.)

The wait seemed endless. Day after day we pestered him: "Don't you feel like you have to go poop?" The answer always the same. "Nope" he'd remark, "I'm fine." And he'd continue with his day.

Then, Sunday, the fourth day of Poopwatchgate, came. We were concerned about a blow-out. We worried that he might try to hold it in indefinitely and then his subconscious would betray him during the night. We contemplated suppositories (Sam had endured this fate in months past) to force the issue.

Sunday afternoon, I had resolved to make dinner and was perusing a cookbook generating ideas. Ashley noticed Jack had disappeared and had closed himself in the guest bath. Grunting ensued. Ashley claims she heard jack get off the toilet, pause and say, "YESSSSSSSSS." She believes he had to look to verify it for himself that he'd achieved his goal: using the toilet for its intended purpose.

Jack exploded out of the bathroom announcing the feat. Celebration ensued. I was sent to Costo. I ended up making an unintended journey through the Crip-town Rectum Mall when I learned Costco didn't carry the "Wii Motion Plus" accessory. Darn you COSTCO! [shakes fist angrily at Costco sign.]

I returned from my Costco-WalMart-GameStop-Back-To-Costco-All-While-Avoiding-Getting-Shot-Mugged-Or-Disemboweled-By-Not-Looking-Anyone-In-The-Eyes errand with the Wii game, and an over-sized bag of M&Ms (they measure this bag in pounds, not ounces, kids) [And some socks, a new golf shirt, a couple bottles of wine, and an 18 pack of Newcastle Brown Ale... Damn you Costco! [shakes fist at Costco sign again]] I learned that while I had been spelunking through Costo's caverns of colossal consumerism, Jack had added to the excitement with another deposit. He commented later that it was "really, really big" and that it looked like a "poop snake." Indeed.

We played Wii late into the night. Jack was beaming with pride. With the lone exception of returning home after the infrequent camping/hunting trip, I've never been more excited about the act of using the toilet.

Success.

It finally happened. Oh there is so much to tell. But you'll have to wait as I intend on telling the story, prospectively in reverse. Understood? So watch for new "old" posts. (Hint: I'll be post-dating them.)

Pottytraining Diaries/Poop Watch - Week 30: The Poop Camel

Jack's last "BM" was Thursday morning. It's now Saturday. We're genuinely concerned. He's not complaining that his stomach hurts or that he's in any discomfort or pain, but we're not buying it. We've placed him on the toilet several times to "try," but no luck.

I dub thee the Poop Camel, Jackson.

15 (or so) Random Things About Me: Jack.

If you're at all familiar with Facebook, you've probably run across these posted lists that people are fond of, including the "25 Random Things About Me" personalized list. Since Jack has no Facebook page (yet), I thought my dear readers would enjoy a list for Jack, based on my observations.

(For authenticity purposes, I write this in first person, as if it was written by Jack.)

1. I prefer to eat all of the cheese and toppings off of pizza and leave the crust and dough part untouched.
2. I will pee-pee in the potty, and celebrate it with gusto, but refuse to go #2 in the potty, instead choosing to store it up for the instant after I am put in my diaper for the night. I do this inentionally, and with full knowledge that I can control my bowels and could use the toilet if I wanted to, but the look on Dad's face when I do this, night after night, is just priceless.
3. My favorite movie is Cars, but I've never seen more than the first 10 minutes.
4. I have seen every Dora the Explorer and Oswald episode ever created. Fred Savage (the voice of Oswald) rules.
5. I have several pairs of shoes, thanks to my father, but prefer to wear my Crocs with socks.
6. I find screaming to be my preferred mode of communication, despite the ongoing pleading of my parents that I use a so-called "inside" vocal pattern.

7. I love coffee, usually with heavy milk and a splash of creamer.

8. I can control my bowels, for days on end, when I deem necessary.

9. I "bring the hot fire" when I play boxing against my father on the Wii.

10. I dance better than Michael Jackson. At least that's what I'm told. I have no idea who Michael Jackson is.

11. I can identify Tiger Woods, Connor Jackson (Diamondbacks), and Steven Drew when I see them on TV.

12. I love to wrestle my little brother, Sam, even though he has no idea what I'm doing to him.

13. My cousin Ethan and I take incredible magical trips to far away places and do things that make no sense whatsoever, such as install potties at the Eiffel tower. Or at Steven Drew's house. I tell each of these stories to my parents.

14. I read three books every night.

15. I can hit a golf ball 50 yards with my driver.

16. I prefer being naked, when possible.

Pottytraining Diaries - Week 30: Luck Runs Out

So Jack's diapers ran out this morning. We tossed the last of them in the garbage, full of its putrid load of human waste. I cheered quietly inside. I would have shot off fireworks inside my brain, but I was afraid of burning off the last of the brain cells to which I frantically cling these days.

Now we wait. And hope. And prepare ourselves for the inevitable midnight sheet cleanings...

Jack is upbeat about it. That makes one of us.

Pottytraining Diaries - Week 29: Scarce Resources

Jack's realized that the fuse is burning out quickly and he has therefore gone into conservation mode. Instead of asking for a mid-day diaper to poop in, he saves up until the morning after he sleeps in one, and then depositing the "remains of the day*" in it. That way, he only burns one diaper per day (since he must sleep in one).

* Sincere apologies to Kazuo Ishiguro and James Ivory.

Some things I learned today.

Jack taught me the following things today:

1. The lyrics are not "He's got the whole world in His hands," but instead "He's got the whole world in his pants."

2. I didn't really fly all the way to Scotland to play golf in '07, I just drove to Scottsdale.

3. Superman is the only person who plays in Scotland because he can fly there whenever he wants.

4. Jack can hit his little USA Kids Golf driver 50 yards... with no formal lessons to date.

5. Cousin Ethan plays on a golf course in Tucson where they use only sticks and rocks.

Potty-training update: If potty-training had an economic equivalent, we're in stagflation: Potty-training progress is stagnated and my frustration with the issue is inflating.*

Sam is great. He turned 1 in late July. He points at you and waves to say "hi" and "bye." Then he sees something he can eat, his eyes grow huge, and he points directly at it, grunt-yelling until you give it to him. He crawls faster than people in Tucson drive and eats more than his brother does most of the time. He claps, usually when people on the TV clap, including golf claps. He loves to toss (roll) a ball back and forth with you as you sit on the ground. He is the "OMG! the cutest baby ever!" according to any female under the age of 17 behind you in line at the supermarket or behind the counter at Old Navy. {sarcasm} Yeah, I know, LOL @ OMG! {/sarcasm}

Lastly, this is quite possibly the greatest invention of the modern era. "Darn, that's pricey!" you are likely saying. Let me tell you that after a couple of those puppies, you will not care what it cost. The first time I saw it at a party, my eyes grew large, I pointed at it and then grunt-yelled until they gave me one. It was delish.

* I spent 10 minutes trying to decide if you can use two colons in this manner. I decided for it, and will let my fellow law school compatriots comment furiously in the negative, after having diligently solicited their grammar guides. After reading newspapers for the last few years, I've decided grammar in America is officially dead.

Pottytraining Diaries - Week 28: The Ultimatum

So the gauntlet has been thrown down: Jack is operating on a dwindling number of diapers. The pediatrician has asked (required) that he be using the toilet for all activities in the near future. So the fastest way to that goal is to remove all obstacles: no more diapers after the current supply runs out.

"Hey Daddy, Lets Play Some Wii!"

It started all so innocently.

"Daddy, lets play boxing. I like boxing."

I obliged. Traditionally, Jack simply flails his arms at the TV, hoping to land a punch here and there, but always enjoying the experience. Traditionally, I lay him flat on his back (digitally speaking) every time with a barrage of well placed attacks.

But this time seemed different. And quickly, the tone changed.

"Daddy, I'm going to bring the hot fire on you."

"Well," I thought, "this is new."

He brought the hot fire. He waited patiently, and took swings when I was open. He protected his head and dodged jabs. He knocked me down. Then, he knocked me out. It took him three tries, but he did indeed take me down.

It is so on now.

Pottytraining Diaries - Week 24

Just a short update: He's now insisting that he be closed in the bathroom by himself while he goes in the diaper. While on vacation, I found him in the bathroom, perusing golf magazines, using the "diaper." I had to smile.

Pottytraining Diaries - Week 22

We're not advancing one inch. He holds it all day, asks for a diaper, throws nuclear fits if they are refused, and even repels offers of increasingly expensive rewards. I'm ready to buy the kid a Mercedes if he'll just abandon his diaper in favor of the porcelain. It's become ridiculous, but in the back of my mind I keep thinking of all the repetitive advice I've received: He'll do it when he's ready. (By the way, that advice never goes over well with a Type-A people like Ashely and me.)

He goes #1 with ease and on his own volition. So we continue to wait, hoping that repeated encouragement and prodding will finally break through the concrete and steel barrier that stands between Jack and his graduation into society as a proper defecating member. I never thought that the longest running battle I'd have with my son would be the use of the toilet.