A compilation of random thoughts and observations on parenting, fatherhood, etc.
My child will like the music of Rush.
We will learn the lyrics to Tom Sawyer and belt them out while driving with the windows down and the stereo blaring.
My job is to make sure my kid is weird.
Do I need to become somebody who writes strongly worded letters? Re Westfield Southcenter food court family lounge: who the hell designed the changing areas? They’re less ergonomic indent in the counter and more shallow brutalist sink basins.
Disney Pixar moment: vibing over a spoon of blueberry tofu yogurt, I take a spoonful, his face changes, I give him a spoonful, he grabs the spoon, then he puts his arm up and drops the spoon and I catch it in mid air and wave it around over my head.
Question to everyone reading this who is raising a baby: you see a blue stripe on the diaper, do you change it right away without fail? If not, in which situation would you have to find yourself in order to say “okay, let’s go change that diaper”?
Our house is becoming more and more like one of those tile puzzles where you have to move one tile before you can move another.
I’ve decided to incorporate a new segment to our bedtime routine. I’m calling it, “getting out the giggles” and it happens right before bath time. After bath time is story time. Then we sing the goodnight song. That’s where we walk around and, in a sing song sort of manner, say goodnight to all the things in the house.
M is watching me through the baby monitor. He peeks when I’m not looking and when I go to check he pretends to sleep. I swear. I can feel his bright night vision demon eyes burning a hole in the back of my head.
What if we could get all babies sucking in unison? Hooked up to a sort of Large Hadron Collider that generates energy from all the suction?
Of all the junk food in The Very Hungry Caterpillar, I think I would go ham on that sausage.
Tonight I felt, for the first time, that M ruined my night. I’m not concerned about the fact that M ruined my night. M will ruin my nights in hundreds of little ways that I simply won’t register through my all encompassing affection for them. I willfully signed up for my nights to be ruined. But it’s the feeling that way that concerns me. Like, that feeling broke through, and it wasn’t a nice feeling, and I realized I will probably have to face this feeling again (and again) in the future, and maybe there are more feelings like that inside me that I don’t even know about. And that made me sad.
Just passing the time watching the flake of snot flailing in and out of M’s nostril.
So who exactly is the old lady whispering “hush”? Is she the neighbor, asked to babysit (after the regular sitter no-showed) in a last ditch effort to save date night? Is she the grandma? You better believe I will not be letting my kid call their grandma “old lady”.
Monitoring the situation
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