And Another Thing

Just a quick note to update some recent developments:

1. Liam peed all over the floor again last night. We're moving a toddler potty into the bathroom at bath time. I'm not optimistic, but it's all we've got.

2. Additional Carl suggestions that the authors were not willing to post themselves:

Carl's Bitches (don't know how we missed this one)
Carl and Youth in Asia (an oldy but a favorite)

Hit or Miss…

I meant to write about this a month ago, but I was hoping there’d be a repeat performance to tell you about rather than just a “one shot” deal. For those of you squeamish about bodily functions (which seems a staple of baby blogging), I suggest you link out now here or here, depending on your preferences.

We know it’s too early to expect any real progress on potty training, but the boys are showing signs of interest or at least curiosity. While they have never seen the Barnum and Bailey Circus for comparison, daddy in the bathroom is clearly the “greatest show on earth,” particularly when waterworks are involved. In any case, about a month ago Liam developed a new habit in the bath time routine. When I’m home, I strip them down and take off their diapers while mommy brushes their teeth. Since brushing takes longer than disrobing two toddlers, even wriggly ones, I also run the bath water before Tiffany’s done with both of them. This leaves one or both of them some unsupervised time.

Liam usually entertains himself, but recently we get suspicious if he stands in the corner by the door. We have good reason. Every time he goes to this corner he turns back to the room and lets fly. The only thing louder than his shriek of joy is his mother’s shriek of horror, or perhaps Graeme’s giggles of delight. After a short burst, Liam stops to survey his work, but we have learned this does not mean he is finished. If we do nothing (other than start to clean up the damage) he waits a minute and then fires again, usually on the unsuspecting clean up crew. They find this even more amusing that a target free shot. We’ve learned.

About the second time I witnessed this, we swung into action. I grabbed Liam and swooped him over to the toilet. His next shot was controlled and “on target.” He seemed to really enjoy that and flushing afterwards, which makes his unwillingness to repeat it all the more baffling. We’ve got him in the corner both before and after his first shot and he simply gets stage fright once I get him to the toilet regardless of whether I hold him or we get him a stool to stand on.

We know he has to go. You can read it in his eyes. Well that and the minute he hits the bath water you can see the rivulet of current in the water. Mommy is thrilled by this, particularly when his brother starts trying to drink the bath water a few minutes later.

Bad Dog, Worse Daddy…

To paraphrase Count Rugen, “You've got an overdeveloped sense of [humor]. It's going to get you into trouble someday.” Well in fairness, it’s already gotten me in trouble through the years. It’s the trouble it’s going to cause for my sons that concerns me. Graeme already has quite a bit of devilishness in him: from grinning at you as he does exactly what you just told him not to, to throwing food a mommy during dinner, to picking up his water bottle and shaking in upside down to “make it rain” on the floor (much to mommy’s delight). Liam is the sleeper, he’s not yet indulged in rampant misbehavior aside from refusal to stay in bed, but I expect that he will be the sarcastic sneaky cynical one. Let’s face it, it’s in the genetic code on both sides (I’m looking at you grandpas Tom and Al).

I can’t really blame it all on the Grandpa’s though. I expect that it will be the things I do and say that contribute most directly. Take for example my reaching my breaking point with “Carl”. There’s a wonderful (?) series of children’s books written by Alexandra Day about a Rottweiler named Carl. Written is actually too kind, they’re more directed and drawn by her and written by parents. Each book begins with the mother departing for some function or activity and leaving baby or toddler Madeline in the care of her Rottweiler. I know, it sounds like and ABC movie of the week recipe for disaster, but somehow Carl overcomes his carnivorous nature and outshines any caretaker short of a grandma. Baby/toddler Madeline goes shopping, swimming, to a petting zoo, and even a masquerade party all without mishap. That said, I hope no one in the less educated community mistakes this for a childcare manual or DFACS is in for a sharp increase in cases.

In any case, my real issue here is twofold. First, Ms. Day’s laziness (or perhaps mine). She writes one sentence on the first page of the book setting the scene and then one on the last page lauding Carl. In between are pages of color pictures that the reader (me!) has to make up a story about. Mommy is pretty creative and reliable, but with enough variety that the boys LOVE the Carl books. Daddy sticks to the general facts laid out in the pictures, unless it’s the twenty-fifth reading of the day and he’s only picked up the book to stem the squeaking tide of cries of “Kawal, kawal.” The demand for repetition is issue number two.

When I’ve reached my limit of Carl, I tend to editorialize about what’s happening. For example, mommy was not amused when “Carl’s Masquerade” (wherein Carl and baby follow mommy and daddy to a masquerade party) became a swingers event. Like the boys know the difference. However, I’ve given in and agreed to reign in my creativity for the sake of not having our sons expelled from preschool down the road (we’ll let the biting take care of that). What I continue to do, however, is day dream about grittier titles for Carl books that Ms. Day no doubt is working on this very moment. Here’s a comparison.

Ms. Day’s Titles:
Good Dog Carl, Carl Goes Shopping, Carl Goes to Daycare, Carl Pops-Up, Carl's Afternoon in the Park, Carl's Baby Journal, Carl's Birthday, Carl's Christmas, Carl's Masquerade, Carl Makes a ScrapBook, Follow Carl, My Puppy's Record Book, and Puppy Trouble

Daddy’s Titles:
Carl’s Crack House (I’m not stereotyping Rottweilers)
Carl and the Crips (No really)
Carl Meets Mike Vick (Okay, maybe)
Carl Gets Fixed
Carl’s Shock Collar
Carl Eats Yellow Snow
Carl’s Cannibalism (there’s an irritating yip-yip dog next door)
Carl and the Ladies from Decatur (some readers think Ms. Day already wrote this one)

On the Road

Nope. Finished. Still sucks.

The twins have stolen Tiffany's computer and are holding it hostage for more "Dis, dis." I'm sure she'll blog as soon as we translate their request.

Burn a Little Brighter Now

We interrupt this blog about children for something their father has got to get off his chest. One of my favorite song writers (I’d say he’s a favorite singer, by my wife has informed me that he cannot sing no matter how creative his lyrics) wrote “I read some Kerouac and it got me on the track to burn a little brighter now.” I’ve always wondered what inspiration he gained from Kerouac and what the mystery of “On the Road” was.

As some of you know I’ve been downloading books to my iPod and listening to them during my frequent travel (gift certificates to audible.com are much appreciated). I’m two thirds of the way through this American classic and I’m dumbfounded. I cannot figure out what the big deal is. He writes some creative descriptions, but this is not a novel that speaks to my soul. If something other than wandering from NYC to SFO and back getting drunk over the course of a decade doesn’t happen soon, I fear I will find myself as the only person in American that thinks Kerouac was a crank.

I have three theories on this:

1. I am just too old. Kerouac seems to be going about the whole nihilist thing that the American expatriates in Paris did in the 1930s. Hemmingway, Stein, et. al. I studied them when I was the right age to get their angst and appreciate the idea of deciding that since they couldn’t figure out what to stand for in life they would focus on standing for nothing. Kerouac just seems to be repeating that exercise in a less interesting way. I am so old that I want to slap Salvatore Paradise, tell him to get a honest job, get married, have a kid or two (not at the same time, we’ll spare him that drama) and realize that philosophical pretensions don’t necessarily preclude having a life. As my Junior English teacher said to me about a proposed Economics/Philosophy double major, “Oh, a philistine with a conscience.” (Ironically, I opted for just the philistine part in the long run).

2. I’m missing the point. Listening and reading are two different things. This production is pretty good, but it’s possible that the nuance of the written word is not translating. Or that there is some subtlety that has eluded my apparently ever-closing mind (see point 1 above for evidence). There is also the fact that I haven’t actually finished the book maybe it will have a “bang, wow” ending as Kerouac would say.

3. I need a field test. In 1984 my father gave me a book called Rabbit Run by John Updike to read with the request to let him know if it was as bad as he thought it was. It was. None the less, it made TIME magazine’s 100 Best English Novels from 1923 to 2005. I would try this with my sons, but one would destroy the book and use it for insulation and the other would simply try to eat it for having the audacity to not have pictures (see I got back on blog topic). Anybody want to read Kerouac and get back to me?

There are a few quotes I have found amusing and wanted to share. However, I doubt this is why “On the Road” is considered great literature. Yes, they are taken out of context but I laughed at them when I heard them in context.

“We made love under the tarantula.”

“We came down on him like a cloud, every one of us hungry, even Alfred, the crippled hitchhiker.”

Misnomers and Imperfections

Talk is cheap. Graeme’s is cheaper than Liam’s. Some of the stuff they say is hilarious, both intentionally and unintentionally (examples below). Graeme however has become dangerous (not just from biting). He repeats everything he hears, although his pronunciation sometimes leaves a bit to be desired and some words are easier than others.

One of the few advantages of being a traveling daddy is that the boys are hearing their first bad words from mommy and not me. It’s pretty obvious who they learn which words from because Tiffany and I swear in very different ways. This is the kind of thing you never really notice until you start to hear it repeated in miniature. So far I’ve heard Graeme say “cwap” (crap) and “bastar” (should be obvious). We’re going to have to work harder on editing ourselves.

My favorite though, is accidental. Graeme has discovered the concept of stuck. He lets us know if he’s stuck by saying that he’s stuck or calling to us and saying stuck, but he can’t say it. The verbal result is repetition of either “I suck, I suck” or “mommy suck, mommy suck.”

The other day, Tiffany was cautioning Liam against some kind of lunch time shenanigan and called him “Liam Michael.” Now, Graeme struggles with saying “Liam” but “Michael” apparently struck his fancy and was phonetically viable. For the rest of the day, Graeme followed Liam around shouting, “Micha, micha.” Liam just kept looking at him with an expression that said, “what the heck are you talking about.” It also may be that Graeme though it was a word used to scold Liam. Who knows.

Due to his frequent biting of Liam when he’s tired or protecting his turf, Tiffany has taught Graeme to he is sorry (“I sawwy”) when he does something that makes Liam cry. Yesterday Liam was frolicking on the bed and fell and whacked his head on the screen of mommy’s laptop. Needless to say this resulted in much wailing. Graeme came running in around the corner from the bathroom, looked and Liam woefully and said, “I sawwy.” I’m fairly sure he doesn’t understand why mommy wants him to say it.

Other humorous pronunciations:

Fwaug – frog
Cack – cat
Goosh - goose
Choo-choo – train

Technical Difficulties

Well, not really technical, but domestic difficulties. We’ve experienced the following chaos in the order indicated below. As a result, Tiffany hasn’t been able to sleep much let alone blog. Daddy’s going to try to stand in for a little while here.

Chaos:

1. Swapped out cribs for toddler beds. The madness is not longer contained at bed time… (father in China)
2. Both sons sick with virus. (father home)
3. Gone off pacifiers as they’ve chewed through all but two. It was time. (father in HKG)
4. Maid is terminated.
5. Both sons contract “Hand, Foot and Mouth Disease” (HFMD). They're okay now (father in China)
6. Wife gets flu. (father in HKG, but came home immediately)

Our new maid started on Monday, so things should get better soon. If the boys would get back to sleeping we can turn the corner…