My Kid Is Special!!

Ladies Man!!

2019-04-04T18:32:00.002-07:00

Wyatt is a Gilchrist man if ever there was one. There are many indications of this, like his love of whittling, fear of touching bugs, or inability to remember lyrics. But the biggest giveaway that Wyatt is my son is how he handles the ladies.

He and I were in the shower the other day (don’t worry, it’s not weird). He says “Lots of girls sure like me,” as I start washing his hair (totally age appropriate). I ask “How many?” (please don’t call the police), and he says “I don’t know, but two of them want to marry me.” (we were wearing swimsuits?) "and one of them tries to kiss me." (let's pretend this whole setting is a joke).

Ugh. Been there!! I remember being at school and feeling like the ladies simply wouldn’t let me breathe without reminding me that I have food in my teeth, or that I skew much more towards "obnoxious" than "funny." Just give me some space, girls! This unwanted attention is a burden that Wyatt and I have both had to share, like bacne.

Unbeknownst (first time I’ve ever written that word!!) to me, Cara already had a plan in mind to repel future daughter-in-laws:

His father's shadow looms large over him. Never a good thing when his father is me. Also, teeth.

That’s right. Wyatt asked for a pi shirt, somewhere around March 14, and Cara does what she always does: Buy the kids the things without even thinking about it. It’s why we have 74 Beyblades. Now Wyatt is guaranteed to not have a girlfriend until college, if his dad is any indication.

Also, oh my gosh please note the fact that the top of his hair is quite well coiffed (sixth time with that word! I’ll show you the tally list later.) but the rest of it has been through the dryer. And not, like, a hairdryer (78^th time with that word, believe it or not). He fell in love with hair gel "a pretty long time ago" as he puts it, but I think he can't see all of the mirror or something.

[Note: my wife pronounces that word "coughed"]. [Also note: She probably spells the word "coughed" as "coffed."]

Wyatt came back from school pretty early in the first grade saying that girls were trying to kiss him. “You wouldn’t have this problem if you stopped brushing your teeth” I said, speaking from experience. “Just start talking more about chess and video games, all of your problems will go away.”

Lincoln, surprisingly, doesn’t have this issue with girls. Or boys. Or people at all. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Lincoln interact with a person. I’ve started to wonder if he’s like the kid from The Sixth Sense, but instead of seeing dead people (Spoiler alert! Sorry!), he sees no people.

And while we are talking about hair, like we were a few paragraphs ago so don’t freak out, can Jet get a shout-out here?! I cannot get enough of those golden locks.

We need to get that jaw looked at, however. It's always like that.

I’ve always silently (and glaringly) judged parents who let their kids grow their hair forever. Looking at you, Brita. But Cara has cut Jet’s hair one time and I almost divorced her when I got home. We know he needs a haircut, but it’s the cutest thing in our lives and basically the only good thing each day and just so precious and someone please call for help. So now, I don’t judge parents who don’t cut their kids' hair, provided they are as cute as Jet. Looking at you, Brita.

I think things will work out okay in the end for Wyatt. We keep seeing those front two teeth of his outgrowing the rest of his teeth, and his mouth, and the weeds outside, so the ladies will soon be turned away, I’m sure. If that doesn't do it, he's bound to eventually get some of his dad's personality, and that'll certainly end his girl problems, leaving him with 99 others.

My mood: so fresh and so clean

Wyatt’s mood: stressed to go to school

Link’s mood: stressed to go anywhere

Jet’s mood: needs screens

Cara’s mood: unbeknownst to me (2!!!!)

Listening to: Walking on Sunshine by The Band Who Plays That Song

Giant Trampoline!!

2018-03-30T06:01:00.001-07:00

Cara and I will stop at nothing to ensure that our special children have everything they could possibly want. It's a big part of why Wyatt has 11 fidgit spinners and 18 lightsabers, with the other part being "Grant loves Star Wars and can't sit still." So, we thought, collectively, "Expenses and safety be darned, we need to get these boys a trampoline!"

Also, it was on sale super cheap the day after Christmas, and also we are pretty sure it has some structural damage.

Don't worry, folks, we'll have more exciting images later on. Wyatt is able to climb down on his own. Lincoln is not. So when Wyatt decides he's done, if he doesn't come get me, Link can be hanging out on the trampoline for a while. He doesn't yell or cry or fuss, just waits. Or naps.

One thing is certain: They love it.

I think if I were able to play with them on the trampoline indefinitely, they would starve before they stopped. Even without me, they can go for a super long time. It's like we purchased a cheap babysitter and made a long-term investment in hospital trips. Good financial planning on our part.

I kid. People think that trampolines are so dangerous, but did you know that each year more people die from car accidents and heart attacks combined than from trampoline accidents? I learned that from 30Rock.

Lincoln's favorite thing in the world is a game called Trampoline Monster. It's pretty complicated, but I'll try to explain it to you using small words. It's a game where I get on the trampoline, act like a monster, and eat them. I bounce as hard as I can, and as soon as one of them falls I pounce. My favorite thing is hearing Lincoln ask me to play trampoline monster 8 times a day. It's usually the first words out of his mouth when he wakes up.

Then a bunch of stuff like this happens:

I title this photo collection "Grant Didn't Know Cara Was Going To Take Pictures And Shouldn't Have Worn a White Shirt."
Also, "Thighs."

You might notice Wyatt is into finger guns. And posing for cameras.

Happy Baby.

True story: Wyatt grabbed my hand and flung it down, right into Jet's eye. Jet didn't cry, he was too shocked and felt so betrayed. And don't worry, I am not even flexing my abs in this picture.

Jet loves the trampoline too, but we don't always let him on. So he passes the time by scrounging for food.

"It is important in a young child's life to learn what is and isn't good for eating through unsupervised experimentation." - page 8

What'd you learn, Jet!?

Wyatt in particular is getting pretty good at this bouncing thing. When we play Trampoline Monster, the rule is if he does a flip, the monster falls down. Lincoln is trying his best too.

Wyatt is way better at this stuff now than I ever was. Flips are scary!! Your feet are above your head!! The good news is, now when he asks me to do a flip, I can say "I'm too old, I'll hurt myself." It's not even a lie!!

I have one last video. It's of Cara jumping with the boys, seeing that I am filming her, and then awkwardly trying to look modest. I'm not going to share it, you sickos, but I want to remind her that I have it because holy cow is it funny.

Thanks for reading!

Everyone's mood: bouncy
Listening to: Nothing, actually. Kind of weird.

Piano Lessons!!

2018-03-14T23:33:00.002-07:00

After a fall in which we didn't have Wyatt play soccer, a winter in which we didn't have Wyatt eat vegetables, and a spring that looks like we won't be having Wyatt go to bed at any discernable time, Cara and I have felt the need to re-establish ourselves as worthwhile parents. So we've had him take up piano.

We got this piano the only way we know how: given to us from a relative. More specifically, someone on Cara's side of the family. It's electric, which makes it really good, and sadly doesn't seem to have a headphone jack.

After a few weeks of him failing miserably, we decided maybe someone should teach him, so we got him some lessons.

Cara has absolutely no talent. We can focus on the musical side of things for now, but that last sentence is true in all facets except for "mumbling," at which she is superb. Her singing is akin to a poetry slam set to the tune of the last commercial jingle she heard. The only instrument she knows how to play is the nag, which is exactly what you think it is.

I, on the other hand, could've been a great pianist or oboist if I'd ever tried or been forced to by my parents. And, while they did give me guitar lessons for the one month I could stand them, and piano for two years that I detested, I still feel like I wasn't given a fair shake. So with Wyatt, things will be different.

I've been priming the pump on his musical talents by playing a lot of classical music during the rare moments I'm not listening to Blink-182. And by "classical music," I mostly mean orchestral versions of Zelda and Mario music (real talk here: some of those scores are legit gorgeous, go check them out). During some of this classical music, he asked me what instruments were being played. I told him about some string and wind instruments, and he diligently took notes on a pad of paper. I am not kidding. He was like a little detective.

It's like whenever Tommy Pickles would try to write a note. Do you know what i am talking about? Of course you do.

Later, as we were wrapping up our exploration of instruments through YouTube - Wyatt continued to diligently take what I thought were notes - he rips the paper off the pad and says "Here, dad, you have a ticket!" and walks off.

He has enjoyed his lessons and playing the piano so far, but it doesn't seem to be any sort of passion for him. Still, he seems to like working to excel at things, and maybe we can trick him into this for even a few months.

Wyatt really wanted me to tell you how each piano session ends. You're welcome.

Wyatt wrote us a song. I won't play it for you, because I'd like you to come back to this blog when I put up another post in October (it's really awful), but it has a cool story. He calls it "Can We Hang Out Before You Leave," and, in his own words, it's about "Two girls that love each other but aren't married and one of them is going to move and so they want to hang out together one last time." It's touching, but the music really didn't match the mood. We've got a long way to go.

My mood: tough to get back on the horse
Wyatt's mood: hates going to bed when it's not dark
Link's mood: wants to pay with the most annoying toys
Cara's mood: started a new job!!
Jet's mood: always hungry
Listening to: Blink

Wyatt Explains the New Baby!!

2017-06-27T15:55:00.001-07:00

You've probably noticed that our rate of new posts here at My Kids Is Special has fallen faster than Lincoln's diaper after I don't change it for three days. There's a lot going on around here. To start: holy cow there's a new person in the world!!

His name is Jet Henry Gilchrist. He was born weighing some pounds and some ounces, and is some inches long (for you metric system aficionados, that converts to "some centimeters.")

Here is the mandatory "Our life is perfect and our kids are well-behaved" picture, taken by Betsey over at Framed Living. Trust me, this is the only one where all the boys cooperated.

I should've been more specific in that last picture. When I said "all the boys cooperated," what I meant was "I am usually the problem, with all my hilarious, never-get-old faces." We've generally found that family photos look better without me, like this one that Betsey at Framed Living also took. The next one, however, is one of the better pictures of me ever taken:

Thanks, Betsey at Framed Living! You found my best angle. Also, I am super strong. Also, this is the cleanest our room has ever been. Within about 5 hours Jet, Lincoln, and I had all peed on the bedspread.

So as you can see, there's stuff going on around here. But another happening comes in the form of Wyatt's new fame. Cara and Wyatt have been posting videos on YouTube, which, I'll help you out, is a website used for posting videos on. They're called "Wyatt Explains," and they are pretty incredible. Here's Wyatt explaining his new baby brother (SFW):

They've made 6 or 7 of these videos, with more planned. Cara and Wyatt took a break while she was busy ~~napping~~ growing a baby, but they're both looking forward to making more. Please share/subscribe/stalk if you like it.

I'll share more soon, but this was a good start. Jet, we love you!!

My mood: proud to have three boys
Wyatt's mood: Excited to be a great big brother. Much better than he's been to Lincoln, we all agree.
Lincoln's mood: Thinking about potty training.
Cara's mood: Happy to not have a person in her.
My updated mood: Happy Cara can start cooking/cleaning again.
Listening to: Red Hot Chili Peppers

Boys!!

2017-03-06T00:02:00.003-08:00

Summer 2006: Cara and I were working at a YMCA camp in Estes Park, CO, just outside Rocky National Park. At this time we're just friends, although it's probably more accurate to say we're friends but she's looking my direction. We're meeting some new people at a table in the dining hall. These two girls, sisters, have a total of seven kids in their family, five girls and two boys. Three of the sisters in total were at the camp, working with us.

"Where are the boys?" Cara asks in an innocent, yet telling manner.

"She asks that question all the time," I deadpan.

That summer wore on. She starts to fall for me. Everyone knows it. Whatever, I don't care, I've got a job to do: building signs for the cabins at the camp where I work. It's a fantastic job for a lot of reasons, most of which involve Los and I driving a Gator down steep mountain roads with our eyes closed, but at the end of the summer I crafted this:

I call the wife "Cuhruh" pretty often, pronounced "cuh ruh."That little heart on there was Wyatt's valentine to mom. It says "Mom loves Wyatt," without any help from me. Gosh that boy is perfect. It's also way better than the thing I got Cuhruh for Valentine's day, which was nothing.

It takes a special kind of ego to give someone a sign telling them they like you.

The back side said this:

I somehow managed to make the back side much less glarey.

Cara was going to leave the summer camp a couple weeks early to go to her sister's wedding. I wanted to give her a going away present. Los, the poor sap who was stuck working with me all summer, couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that I was giving a girl a sign declaring her love for me, but I knew what I was doing.

Little did I know, however, that "Where are the boys?" would become the mantra for our family. Not only that we'll only have boys, but that we'll probably never know where they are because of how bad of a mom she turned out to be. The sign sits up in the boy's room right now, but I think I might screw it above their door frame when the three of them start sharing one room in a few years. Cause there's no reason that whole scenario can't work great.

It's true: baby #3, due towards the end of May, is also boy #3. We are pumped because a) we have all the right toys and clothes, b) we seem to know how to raise boys, and c) middle/high school girls are terrifying. That last part cannot be understated, and it's coming from a high school teacher.

Before you ask, let me ease your concerns: Yes, Cara is happy to be having another boy. She is so adored by these boys and knows she has a long period of asking boys to bring in groceries, mow lawns, and climb on the fireplace. She isn't pumped about the smells she's about to smell, nor the size of our food bill to come, but she's happy.

Wyatt has really stuck to his guns and insisted that the baby be called "Jet," and has even gone so far as to come up with a full middle name: Jet Henry Gilchrist. It is probably going to be the kid's name, because when you leave coming up with a name to Cara and I it takes 4 days after the baby is born before we just give up and pick the last name we heard.

Wyatt's mood: can't wait to be a big brother again.
My mood: can't wait to have a wife who can walk without complaining about pregnancy pain again. Lincoln's mood: can't wait for his next meal.
Listening to: Kings of Leon

Puppy Sitting!!

2017-02-07T15:36:00.002-08:00

Uncle Garrett and Aunt Faith got a puppy in early January. It's the cutest thing since Lincoln, and is probably topping the "Cutest Gilchrist" charts overall these days. (Since you asked: 1) Phoebe 2) Grant 3-6) pretty much a tossup). We were asked to watch it for a night while they went to the beach, and couldn't wait. By "couldn't wait" what I really mean is "want to have leverage when we need our kids babysat."

This is what happens:

Lincoln is pretty fascinated with the inner workings of the doggie-bag-pouch of this leash. Phoebe is discovering sticks. This is the most active the gang was on any walk.

Cara and both don't want pets, and haven't from the start. I am fond of dogs, I just want to play with yours. But having an adorable puppy for a night sounded like lots of fun. It wasn't until we drove Phoebe to our home that something dawned on me: After this night, the boys might want a puppy. They'd spend the next 11 years asking for a dog, until they move out of the house. I'd be stuck having to tell my kids the same lies my dad told me: "Dogs don't want to live in the city, they need space to run." "Dogs aren't supposed to be indoors." "Dogs are known to bite off your fingers while you sleep." Yeah right, dad!! I'm older now and I know they only eat toes!!

But here's the good news: Phoebe is the worst. It was basically Phoebe and Cara and Me and Marley and Me Except The Dog Doesn't Die if you know what I mean. There were several times she jumped on Lincoln and started puppy-nibbling him. And me yelling "Fight back Link!" to the two-year-old seemed to make no difference. She peed and pooped in all the wrong places, needed to be walked multiple times, and she even grabbed a pen and started writing on the walls! Look at this mess she made:

Thanks, Phoebe and definitely not Lincoln.

Wow, Pheebs, did you grab a different pen?

And then did you sneak into our house like two weeks later!? That's dedication.

And look at this mess you left on our counter. Those scissors are precariously close to the edge, you dumb dog. And why did you make my kitchen so grainy? It's now dawning on me that I am speaking to you, a dog, who cannot read.

I'd love to say that this was Phoebe, but no. I'd built one of my best train tracks ever. Wyatt wanted me to play fire engines on it with him, and I didn't want to play. He said "Oh no there's a fire, who's going to put it out?!" I called his bluff and kept watching New Girl. The whole thing got torched. We've not spoken since.

When we were driving Phoebe back home, I asked the boys if we should get a dog. Wyatt said "Nah" and Lincoln said "Feesh!" which is the sound he makes whenever he sees anything ever. It looks like we dodged the dog bullet. The best part is now I can say things like "We had a dog for a night and we all hated it." whenever my kids ask for one in the future. I can also say "Lincoln literally walked up to me and handed me a turd." without mentioning that it wasn't Phoebe's.. He pulled it out of his own diaper. This is a true story. I was sleeping on the couch and woke up with a Lincoln turd, in Lincoln's hand, right under my nose. I know what you are thinking: Grant, how can you ALWAYS manage to find a way to talk about poop in your blog? It's a gift. You're also thinking No I wasn't thinking that. I was thinking "How do you make parenting look so glamorous all the time?" It's a curse.

We love Phoebe and haven't got to play with her enough lately, but for now I am content with my own little puppies - who I still often feed by putting food on the kitchen floor and leaving it there until they are hungy. #dadoftheweek

Wyatt's mood: wants to play Mario all day
Link's mood: surprisingly content to watch Wy play Mario all day.
My mood: ready for spring
Cara's mood: Sleepy and uncomfortable.
Listening to: Mario game music.

Parenting Failure: Bedtime!!

2017-01-21T09:49:00.001-08:00

I know that you hold me in very high esteem. You look to me because I am a really, really, reallyreally great dad. I seem to have a knack for building train tracks, I have great fart jokes, and posses impeccable style. My kids are lucky to have me.
Cara is also a decent mom, most of the time.
So this blog post is hard for me to write. I hate to lower your view of me, but there is one area where we have clearly failed as parents (her more than I): bedtime routines with the toddlers.

Lincoln rarely is asleep before 9:00. Lincoln often is up near midnight. Lincoln rarely sleeps through the night, waking up because he is hungry, bored, sleepy (seriously) or because he's in the habit of waking up. Wyatt was much the same way when he was 2. I've been a miserable dad for years now. There, I said it.

I know it's all about routine and discipline. Good parents probably have a system like this:
* give kid a full, healthy dinner
* brush the kid's teeth, wash their hands and face, put on their jammies.
* throw the kid in the crib, turn off the lights. Kid is instantly asleep for 12 hours with no fussing.
* write blog post that has more than 44 views
* sleep a long, uninterrupted, dream filled night, waking up refreshed.

This was one of our better family meals.

I'm sure that's how it must go for most of you.

Our routine is much less organized and much more full of me looking at screens. It usually goes like this:

Should be making dinner for kids, but instead am ... um ... let's pretend I am working out.
Serve kids a healthy dinner of jam.
After eating healthy dinner, throw sticky, messy kids in the wash and sticky, messy clothes in the bath. Play on iPad.
Lay in bed with Wyatt. Sing songs, read books (him to me, me to him), pray, call it a night. This is my one act of good parenting all day.
It's 8:34. I know that if I turn out the lights, play with Link a little, and meander towards the bed, he will fall asleep. Instead, I turn on Netflix and he and I settle in for roughly eleven hours of The Office.
It's 9:41. Lincoln is hungry and refusing leftover jam (it's homemade! calm down!). He eats snacks like bananas, applesauce, apples, string cheese, and yogurt. He often brings me the snacks from the fridge himself. This actually happens. He opens the fridge, grabs food, brings it to me.
It's 11:02. I lay down with Lincoln in the spare bed, figuring he might sleep if I am there with him. He spends 28 minutes crawling across my face, leaving and coming back with applesauce pouches, and jumping on the bed. I am tired and trying to fall asleep.
It's 11:56. Lincoln is asleep. Kicking me. I wake up and move to my big-kid bed. Lincoln will wake up at least one time, needing some sort of food.

It's hard looking over that timeline and having absolutely no idea of where I went wrong. But it's getting old. In fact, the last week or so we've done a good job of wearing the boys out with playing (heading to a high school gym to watch basketball at 5:30 is the frickin' best), stuffing them full, turning off all screens once it gets dark, and putting those kids to sleep hard. It's one of the best things about Cara cutting back her hours at work: we actually have evening time together. Note: that's also one of the worst things. Having the kids sleeping long and well has other advantages too, like funny dream stories:

My mood: frustrated that I'm not doing a better job
Wy's mood: making music on the computer
Link's mood: wants to crawl on mom while she sleeps
Cara's mood: frustrated that I'm not doing a better job
Listening to: Wyatt's take on the music from the Kirby series of video games. (actually not bad)

Footprints in the Snow!!

2017-01-09T19:39:00.001-08:00

I've made up the world's best game. It's great in that it gets kids outside, but you don't actually have to interact with them at all, and it's totally free. It's called Snow Tracker and it works like this:

Cara's best feature is probably her eyes.

1) Have it snow overnight. This part should be easy.
2) Get up before your kids. This part should be impossible.
3) Run around your neighborhood, leaving tracks for your kid to follow. It's important you do this in such a way that your tracks aren't confused with others, but you still do interesting things. Climb along a fence, climb through/over cars, steal a kid's bike for a while, etc. The tracks should probably end at your house, so the kid comes back home and has a cup of cocoa waiting for him, but you could also just end it at some stranger's house and leave them a note saying "Wyatt is probably hungry."
4) Make a video for your son explaining the game. Something like this, only try to be handsomer:

5) Hide in the house, and leave the video for him to find. Ideally, have his snow clothes laid out already. Let the fun take place while you sit and play video games.

Wyatt had a blast doing this. When he finally found me (I was actually in the garage), he said "Um, maybe that was super fun dad." We played it a few more times throughout the day.

(This is a game that also works at the beach - although in this case it's called Sand Tracker - provided your footprints in the sand can be followed and aren't easily blown away. It works great at the Oregon coast because there are so many dunes to hide behind, and no one is ever really there.)

One of the fun things to do with this game is retrace your steps together. One time we did this, and as Wyatt was telling me where I went and what I did, I saw an opportunity.

As we walked, I said "Look at how your footprints are right beside mine. It's like we were walking together, even though I wasn't with you!"

He said "Um maybe OK I guess but here you walked backwards."

"And look at how here your feet are dragging a bit more, as if each step is harder. Is this where you were feeling down?"

"Um no probably I slipped."

"Isn't it nice to know that I will always be there, with footprints, when it snows, sometimes?"

Wyatt ignored me and said "Is this where you made a snow angel? Or probably maybe you were trying to burrow through the snow but it's only like an inch thick."

"What about this part here, where it's only your tracks? Do you feel abandoned? Like all of a sudden, when you needed me most, I wasn't there for you?"

"Um probably no because you were in the garage playing on your iPad."

"No, my son, you weren't abandoned. This... this is the point where your burdens got so great I carried you. I carried when you couldn't carry yourself. You were about to get all mad at me for ditching you, but boy were you wrong! I bet you feel stupid."

"Um maybe incept probably no this never happened. You didn't carry me, dad. You didn't. You didn't, dad."

I think I got through to him.

On a related note, I am so proud of this apple. Snowstorms, ice storms, the harvest, the fall ... it's persevered through it all. Wyatt, my son, did you feel like that apple when my footprints vanished?

My mood: proud to play Snow Tracker and teach my son a lesson about poetry, or footprints, or sharing or something.
Wy's mood: wants to track all day
Link's mood: starting to feel pretty sick
Cara's mood: frustrated because there were better pictures of her I could've chosen

Photos for your Pleasure!!

2017-01-07T11:36:00.001-08:00

We've got 3 SD cards and two iPhones worth of pictures I need to get rid of, so let me store some ~~forever~~ for as long as the internet lasts here on my blog. The pictures are in no particular order, because I pulled them off each device and didn't bother to organize them. Get over it.

Uncle Kip got married in September. We got a lot of model pictures with the cute old timey truck that somehow matched their ties.

Yeah, that's the stuff. Hopefully this will be the last wedding I have to go to for like 8 years. When Cara gets remarried and invites me out of spite.

Boom.

Not Cara's best.

We were making apple juice with the apples from our tree. Lincoln was very pleased to be a part of it all.

Now we know that cowboys really look up to Spider-Man. Also, I don't think that's Wyatt under there.

Pretty great picture, except for where Cara inserted herself rather rudely.

Words cannot express how much I love this picture. Wyatt is just doing everything right.

Link's not sure what to think about snow. His first!

Mean mugging, revisited.

Pictures of Wyatt smiling have been harder to come by, as he prefers sticking his tongue out or glaring lately.

Not Cara's best look.

They were either being towed behind the van at 30mph or I was pulling them at .3 mph. I can't remember which.

We have gotten a lot of mileage out of how absurdly cute this jacket is on Link.

This was during Wyatt's long-lived "I love umbrellas" phase.

Believe it or not, that is my best beanie. Not Cara's best picture.

Lincoln loved the horses at the wedding too.

I put this picture at the end because it is symbolic of something. I'm not sure what, but I bet you'll pick up on it.

What!? How'd this cute little nephew of mine get in here?!

My mood: generally irritable.
Wy's mood: wants to play in the snow
Link's mood: feeling sick
Cara's mood: not her best look
Listening to: James Taylor

Discerning Which Kid Is Cuter!!

2017-01-02T00:08:00.000-08:00

Pretty handsome guy here. And Lincoln is turning into a bit of a stunner himself.

Do you guys remember when Harry started to look better than Will? I am talking about British royalty, of course. There was a distinct moment when it looked like Charles's royal genes were going to outweigh Diana's in the maturing Prince William's life, while Harry seemed to be pulling more from the Diana side. That's basically what's happening with Wyatt and Lincoln right now, but only on a much more dramatic and world-impacting scale. This will take me some time to unpack, so bear with me:

This is a picture I took of the princes. We were all at "Prince Fest" which, I know, sounds like a music festival but was actually a camp for princes or people who should be princes. I was a photographer. This was taken while Will shouted "Dang it you got mom's genes! And jeans!"

Let's recognize. I'm sure you've noticed that Lincoln is cute. Like, WAY cuter than he used to be, and ... dare I say it ... cuter than Wyatt. It's true. There are two main factors here and let's start with the second because it's the most important:

2) Kids get less cute as they get older. Wyatt isn't two anymore. And sure, he says things like "resplode" instead of "explode," "recide" instead of "decide," "resplain" for "explain" and "remember" for "dismember",,, and ... "remember," but Wyatt is firmly entrenched in the "telling jokes" stage of his youth, which I think lasts for about seventeen years. He only knows two jokes, so, I hope you haven't heard these:

Wyatt: *ring ring ring!*
You, with a phone to your ear: "Hello?"
Wyatt: "Is your refrigerator running?"
You, sadly: "Yes. *groans*"
Wyatt: "Well then you better go have to go catch it!"

and

Wy: Knock Knock!
You: Who's there?
Wy: Interrupting Cow!
You: Interruptin-
Wy: Moo!!"

If it was just these two jokes, that'd be barely tolerable, but now he's trying to make up jokes, which usually goes like this:

Wy: Hey Dad. Why did the house make pancakes?
Me: If this isn't funny you are grounded.
Wy: Because he wanted breakfast. Isn't that so funny!? That a house would want breakfast! Isn't that so much like a joke!?

"Isn't that so much like a joke," has become our most used phrase in this house, just above "Will you please just take out the trash it's been like three weeks!" It's hard because he is so excited to tell jokes, and they're never any good. What's more, if we laugh at it, it only encourages him to tell more, which we cannot have. But they just keep coming, and it is eating way into his cuteness.

1) Look at that face. My goodness. This kid has gotten cute. And you can pair his actual-good-looks with his two-year-old, trying-to-be-a-person mannerisms and we have a downright cuteness coup on our hands.

I love how a two year old can communicate pretty much whatever he wants with only a handful of words and gestures. "Bus," "puppy," and "choo" tell us the shows he wants to watch (he could just say "boring," "lame" and "makes you want to harm yourself." The only show for toddlers that I can stand is the indefatigable George). He will bring us boxes of applesauce when he is hungry. He can open the fridge and find the yogurt. He brings diapers to us when he's gone potty (but then runs away as I try to change him). He can say hellos and goodbyes in ways that let you know if he actually cares if you exist or not. Anything he can't communicate, he can point to or instruct me to follow him by holding up his adorable little index finger. (When we walk, he holds my finger instead of my hand. It allows for great fart-joke opportunities. So when he wants to lead me somewhere, he holds up a finger. I then put out my finger, he grabs it, and leads me invariably to the pantry or one of Wyatt's toys on the mantel.)

Slightly oversize clothes and soaking wet shoes make for a stunning picture.

Best of all, Lincoln gives the cutest, most excited "Whoa!'s" in history. They are the greatest thing in my life right now. I am hoping to get every second of his first snow on camera, and then splice his "Whoa!'s" with a Joey Lawrence montage.

Figuring out how to balance the raising of two kids isn't easy, and I don't know if I always do it right. Wyatt has a rough deal because he's been taught to share, and not to fuss or hit, and is able to speak. This means that when Lincoln takes, steals, fights, and fusses, Wyatt is stuck dealing with someone breaking his rules. He then whines and complains, yells at Link or lashes out - all things he knows not to do - and I have to parse out if Link took from Wy, or if Wy is overreacting, or if Cara is to blame (which is usually the case). What helps is that Wyatt loves his brother, and thinks he's just so cute. Luckily, neither of them have any idea of how cute they actually are.

My mood: been sick for about 5 days. Luckily it'll end right before school starts again.
Wy's mood: fussy today, but we worked past it
Link's mood: thinking about potty training himself
Cara's mood: sick of me being sick for about 5 days
Listening to: The Lumineers

My 5yo Came Up With The Best Present Idea!!

2016-12-27T00:09:00.000-08:00

Having kids is the worst because you have to buy them a present that they can give to their mom. It's miserable. I don't want to spend $10 on Cara and then spend seven more dollars so that Wyatt can get her something. And sure, Wyatt has some money saved up in his College Jar (no seriously), but I didn't want to break into that unless it was an emergency and I was going to an arcade or something.

Usually a clever parent whips up something lame like coupons for a backrub or a picture of happier times, but I just can't. Partly because Cara still hasn't cashed in coupons from her last Birthday/Anniversary/Mother's Day/Valentine's/promotion/new haircut/me trying to get out of the doghouse.

I can't imagine why Cara hasn't cashed these in yet. Wyatt and I actually made these in his Sunday School class on Mother's Day, so it was a total lifesaver. My gift idea of "go ahead and take a nap" probably would've fallen flat. It's worth noting that we were supposed to make three coupons, so I had to make a third thing that looked like a coupon.
It's also worth noting that she asked one of our neighbors for a backrub, coupon in hand, and they promptly moved away. Poor kid was super traumatized.

Well, Wyatt comes along and just crushes the whole "thoughtful and cheap" gift thing. I can't believe I didn't think of it myself: He put a bunch of Legos in a box, and drew a picture of the thing he wanted me to build. He made up a Lego set for me. It's brilliant. (And free!)

A folded "book" of directions, a box full of pieces, and a mostly-eaten bowl of cereal. Great stuff.

I was so pumped about this. He usually builds his Lego sets with his uncle Garrett, because it's the only thing that Garrett could possibly do with him without scaring him to death, so I was glad to have a chance to build with him. I also wanted to see what he had in store for me.

A close-up of the instructions. Take a moment to see if you can guess what he has in mind.

Well, shoot. I think we can all agree that this is disappointing. No color. No depth. Terribly poor drawings. I don't think he is even able to shade. Ugh, I don't know what Cara does all day. Besides work, I mean.

Here's what I could see: a house with some plants (easy). A person who has no arms (done). A couple flowers and/or rocks (sure). An arch? or.. a snake? Maybe that's a rainbow, he's been into rainbows lately? I think it's a snake eating a person. Is that how the person lost limbs? Is that supposed to be Cara? Probably not (too skinny), but I am starting to feel like this is a cry for help. And probably food. I'm not convinced she feeds him.

What's that big tower thing? It looks like a fence that was drawn by someone with no capacity for perspective.

When Wyatt explained it all to me, he showed it was a house with grass, a skyscraper and a person. The big snake was actually a wave ("We don't have to build that," he assured me), and the sun ("Don't have to build that either.").

I was in store for even more disappointment, sadly. He hadn't even built it in advance! There was absolutely no testing or quality control! It's like he's four years old, instead of five! We didn't have enough pieces, couldn't set up a functioning roof, had absolutely no yellow bricks to build the sun, and most of the pieces he had already deigned for grass. Brutal. He will never be a Lego engineer, that's clear, so I think I still need to carry that torch for the family.

Still, this is totally a gift I am giving him every year for the rest of forever. It's simply another example of how much fun, and how surprising, seeing someone grow up before your eyes can be. Lately, it seems like Wyatt does this every other day. Just today he set up a bunch of plastic cups, and put toys under some of them, so we could have a shooting gallery with our nerf guns. It's great stuff. I think today he asked me to play with him eight different times (doing eight different things), and I only said "no" to six of them.

My mood: disappointed and proud. I know, it's confusing.

Wyatt's mood: excited about his Christmas presents

Lincoln's mood: not excited about pooping

Cara's mood: bed rest ("Doctor's orders," she claims).

Listening to: Justin Timberlake.

Awards!!

2016-12-19T12:46:00.000-08:00

Y'all might find this hard to believe, but I've not won a lot of awards. Sure, I've won a Bloggy, which is a made-up-award for the world's best blog about Wyatts, but that barely counts. And every once in a while Wyatt calls me "a pretty good gad," which... I just wish he'd never met Aaron's dad. It's been a rough life.

The dad in this photo, whomever that hero may be, clearly deserves some recognition and/or money. I promise I'll use the money to buy Lincoln a jacket that fits.

Actually, I did win my high school's chess tournament when I was a sophomore. There was no trophy, but my dad found a big trophy and printed up a sticker that read "Grant Gilchrist Sheldon High School Chess Champion" and placed it over the plaque that was already on the trophy. This is a true story. That thing was enormous. I then realized that trophy forging was a thing, and went to thrift stores and bought trophies to put up on my shelves all the time. People would come over for the first time, and most could tell immediately that I wasn't trophy-winning material and ask where I bought them, but every once in a while a poor sucker would get really impressed and say "Wow! I had no idea you were so good at bowling, karate, archery, and ... ballet?!" I would then piroutte.

Wyatt? He had to wait five years to win something.

I didn't get the other girl's mom's permission to use her photo, so I did some fancy photoshopping. Can you see where? Only 16% of people can. (Genius Level). However, It turns out this picture of Shirley Temple isn't that far off from how cute that girl in the red actually is.

At Wyatt's school, where he is in Pre-K, which apparently is a thing, he won an award for showing respect, or being nice, or eating vegetables or something like that. I'm not really sure, seeing as how I wasn't given the award I wasn't really paying attention. Actually it kind of looks like he wasn't paying attention either. And... is that just a blank piece of paper?

The best thing about this, however, is that IT TOTALLY VALIDATES MY PARENTING!! Do you understand?! I can chat with other parents, pull up this picture on my phone, and say "I don't know what character awards your kids have won, but as the father to a publicly-acknowledged respectful son, I can assure you that Jason should not still be breastfeeding. ... So you can go ahead and stop that now."

There are so many things to worry about when raising a child. When to give formula. Whether or not they should sleep on their stomachs. Or in your room. Or in the carseat. Or at all. Deciding if they should have sugar or gluten or crayons. Can they have plastic toys? Should they be spanked? Can they watch TV? I could go on.

Here's the point: I NAILED all of those decisions. Got every one right. We know this because my son just won an award for having the best teeth I think in his class of 18 kids or something like that. Boom. I am writing a book on parenting and you can buy it for $83, because your kids are worth it.

Chapters include:
How Much Ignoring Is Too Much Ignoring? (Impossible)
When Is It Appropriate For Me To Judge Other Parents? (After you've won an award).
Is There Such Thing As Too Much Screen Time? (Kids: yes. Parents: no.)
What Sort Of Crafts Should I Have My Kids Do? (Cleaning, cooking, silence.)
How Do You Do It? (Natural talent, you don't have a chance)
and "Where Can I Find the Last Missile Canister in Super Metroid? (no idea after 15 years)

The book will go on sale after I've received enough orders to justify publication, so you can go ahead and send me that $83 now.

My mood: proud and about to be rich
Wyatt's mood: honestly, kind of confused by the whole thing. His grandpa called him to congratulate him and Wyatt had no idea what he was talking about. He did know about Spider-Man and wanted to talk about that.
Link's mood: jealous. Not of Wyatt, but of Chris Pratt.
Cara's mood: feeling better after a long run of morning sickness but really who cares.

Big Brother Update!!

2016-11-10T19:42:00.000-08:00

Announcing pregnancies is a young blogger's game, so let's ruin the secret right off the bat: Spoiler alert, we're having another one. Baby is due at the end of May and Cara's been real sick so far. Like, can't get off the couch, certainly can't make dinner, and probably can't clean a single thing or stop watching Netflix sick

We had planned to keep it from Wyatt for a while, but then we got bored and grabbed a camera. If you've been around the Wy Guy at all lately, you know how sweet and excitable he is, so this was a prime moment for us to get some precious, viral-ready video of him finding out he's going to have another baby to torment him.

Here goes:

Oh goodness. That's a top-five video for me at this point. No joke. (If you're curious, here are the other top 4, in no particular order.) Colin is one of the neighbor boys across the street, and any chance Wyatt gets to play with a neighbor boy causes him to abandon any activity that was currently taking place. I could be giving him candy wrapped in money and he'd run out to see Colin if given the chance.

We are looking forward to having what is most certainly a boy. We know it's a boy because there's no way it's not a boy, so there's no reason to ask us what we are having, it has to be a boy. Wyatt wants to name the baby "Jet," which was growing on me until I heard the full name: "Jet Rocket Flash." Now I'm convinced. (When asked what we should name a girl, he said "I don't know that's hard. Maybe... "Jet Girl"?")

Actually, there's a lot of pressure on naming your kid "Jet." If he doesn't have sweet black hair from the 50's, isn't super fast, or isn't generally cool, he can't pull it off and is essentially cursed with letting people down whenever they meet him for his whole life. Since this child will be my offspring, there's really no chance he will be cool or super fast, so we'll probably have to stick with Tham for a boy, Thara for a girl.

Once we finally got to hit Wy with the news, some great things happened. For example, he made it REALLY clear to us that he understands how a C-Section works.

Sheesh, that killed me. He was going to show me the scars that Cara has from her C-sections when he turned and showed me his belly. He's asked once or twice "When will they cut the baby out of mom?" and I think he has no idea what a natural birth is like. But then again, does anyone?

And if you were wondering, Link spent that whole video saying "Cheese" because there was a camera on. It's basically the only word he can say.

So, yeah, baby's coming. Things are pretty exciting around these parts. Wyatt's so excited that while I was skyping with a friend a few nights ago, he said "Hey Rj guess what! I got a yo-yo! And my mom's having A BABY!"

Hopefully Cara starts feeling better soon and then we can start eating meals again, because it's getting pretty hungry around here.

My mood: excited but hungry
Wy's mood: super excited, praying for the baby all the time
Link's mood: not wanting to talk
Cara's mood: unhappy
Listening to: Pearl Jam

Soccer!!

2016-10-16T13:30:00.001-07:00

You guys it's tough being such a perfect dad all the time. Here is Exhibit K:

When Wyatt turned two, his papa and he and I were driving by a park and saw some kids playing soccer. He got really excited and wanted to go play. It was tough for me to convince him that soccer isn't actually fun, so instead his papa told him he can play soccer when he turned five. All of a sudden, I was held to a promise three years in the making.

Believe it or not, this was a tough defense to score against. #coaching

You might think that a two-year-old would forget this over the course of three years, but it turns out Wyatt can remember pretty much anything. Roughly 10 months before his birthday he asked me to get him a Paw Patrol cake for his party. I told him I would, again thinking he'd forget. The day before his birthday he says "I am so excited for my Paw Patrol cake tomorrow! I said "Me too!!" as I dialed Dairy Queen, knowing they were closed. There was no Paw Patrol cake, but we did have pretty great Paw Patrol napkins!!

... Where was I going with this? Oh, right, 5-year-old soccer. He'd always ask "How long until I'm five?" and I'd have to say "Never" and he'd laugh and sigh and say "Oh dad..." and it was all really quite precious. Well, I was precious. He was just kind of cute.

When it came time to look at soccer signups, we realized something: We don't want to spend $80 to have our five-year-old kick a ball a few times with strangers at places we don't want to go. So for maybe the second time ever, Cara had a great idea: We will start our own soccer league.

I know this sounds like the plot to a bad Disney movie, and that's probably because it is, but it worked out really well. Instead of paying $80 to watch five-year-olds not play soccer while standing on the sideline with strangers at a place we didn't want to go, we invited all of our friends with five-year-olds (sorry if you didn't make the "friend" cut) to come to a park by our house, at times that were convenient for us, and watch our kids play soccer for $0.

These were simpler, sunnier, warmer times.

About once a week, give or take, a group of 5 or 6 families would get together and the kids would play soccer. The first week there were probably 8 families, but those numbers quickly dropped. I guess when you don't drop $80 on soccer, you feel less committed, I don't know. I was the coach, with help from some other parents, and it was great.

Cara looked up some drills for us to give to the kids. One of the most important things they stress for this is age is to not have them practice using their head because it scares them. I, however, am not trying to raise (or field a team of) pansies, so the first practice was only headers. It went really quite poorly.

This was shortly after I told Wyatt "None of the other kids
can use their hands but you can because you are special."

This was honestly the most organized and behaved they were all season. Also, it's pretty great how hard I was working to coach while all the other parents hung out on the edge and talked about stuff. Probably about me, actually.

Seven kids!! This must have been one of our earlier practices. This was moments before I berated the girl in the pink for using her hands. "YOU'RE NOT WYATT YOU DON'T GET TO DO THAT YOU'RE NOT SPECIAL!!" I yelled at her without punctuation.

These were the siblings of the kids playing soccer. But really, everyone wanted to spend all their time at the playground instead of being forced to plank for two minutes at a time with me,

We did drills of walking dogs, running around trees, slaloming between cones, kicking backwards, even kicking the balls really hard at one of the dads who deserved it. Everyone loved it. At the end of each practice we would have a scrimmage. This was by far their least favorite part. They would rather play "tunnel tag with soccer balls" or "sharks and minnows with soccer balls" or "go get water" or "lay on my back in the wet grass" then play an actual game. What's worse is since we always played ourselves, our record for the season was a miserable .500.

Something really fun: Wyatt has been coming to Marist, where I coach ultimate, to help with practice a few days a week. He's been doing this for years, but all of a sudden he got real excited to start calling me "coach." He has a huge grin when he says it, and then always says "Because you coach your students and you coach me and also you are my gad." All very true statements, Wyatt.

When the season was over we went to Papa's Pizza for a party. I am proud to say that at the Awards Ceremony I cleaned up by winning "Best Coach" and "Handsomest Dad," while Cara won "Least Present at Practice" and there were no other awards at all. I told the kids "None of you earned one, especially you Silas." Silas cried but he'll be better for it, eventually.

Speaking of Papa's Pizza, I've realized that there is no amount of money I wouldn't pay to have bad pizza and kids far away, playing. I went in to the play room to grab Wyatt when the pizza came and basically wanted to tear my ears off, it was such mayhem. One of my students was working in the play room, wearing a referee's striped shirt. I asked her how she liked working there (she gives me a look of "oh it's not the best") and I finish with "because it sounds miserable." She nods and then goes to tell Johnny to stop eating the padding around the playpen.

I think soccer was a great success. Looking back I wish we'd found a few more drills to do and kids to play, and I really wish I'd charged everyone like $30.

My mood: glad it's over
Wy's mood: sad it's over
Link's mood: unaware it's over
Cara's mood: didn't even know it had started
Listening to: Miley Cyrus

Slides!!

2016-10-15T09:32:00.001-07:00

Lincoln really become a lot of fun over the summer. Talking to himself, laughing and playing, having lots of personality; he really started to grow up. But the main thing that has come out of this summer is his love of slides. The slide at the pool, at the park, in our living room, all of them.

At the two pools we frequent - Camp Harlow and Amazon - he would go down the big slides for an hour straight. He got to the point his little legs couldn't get up the steps (each one is about 2/3rds the length of his leg), so he'd walk halfway up and need me to carry him the rest of the way, then giggle the whole way down. It was glorious.

But the slide that was king of them all was the big long one at Camp Harlow. It's roughly 6 million feet high and 42 feet long and holy cow did he love it.

Aaaand this might be my favorite picture ever. Because I am so fond of that watch.

Here it is in moving picture form. You'll notice at the end that he walks straight to the far complex to go down the big slide again. The whole loop takes him about two minutes.

The first time he did this I was absolutely terrified. Remember, he's not even two years old. He sort of snuck away from me and I realized I had a better chance of catching him at the bottom than racing him to the top. The second time I was still a little nervous. Then it became the greatest thing in my life. There's probably some lesson in all of that, but I think it's "slides are really fun."

One time towards the end of our slide marathon, Link got a little too excited. He started to lean forward to grab me pretty early, and fell forwards. He was about to take a big bite of hard round metal, but luckily some selfless hero was there to save the day. I quickly threw my hand in the way, figuring him biting me was better than him losing all of his teeth,. While this essentially worked, it basically turned in to me punching his face instead of his face punching the slide. He still got a fat lip and my hand was all cut up. I do not regret allowing him to go down a slide that was thirty four times his height.

My sister and sister-in-law have been running a camp for kids whose parents are incarcerated. It's called Camp Agape. It's an overnighter that takes place at Camp Harlow, free for the children, and devoted to making them feel loved, encouraged, equipping them with supplies for the school year, and telling them about Jesus. It's a simply wonderful thing. My brother volunteers as a counselor, my wife volunteers in the kitchen, my parents probably do something too, and I hope to get some credit for being related to these wonderful people. While they are all working, I take my boys to camp so they can play.

Also, things like this happen:

Wyatt learned this from watching mom. This is exactly how she kisses.

So really, Camp Harlow is just like Pawnee.

My summers growing up were lived out at Camp Harlow, which on summer weeks is a camp run by First Baptist Church in Eugene for K - 8, primarily. Counseling, swimming, playing, working. It was my second home. One of the saddest things for me about being a parent has been knowing that my kids won't have camp in the same way that I did. Where can I find a space that they can run, play, love, and care for, besides their own room? I still haven't answered that question (although Marist is kind of becoming that place lately), but I absolutely treasure the three days each year that my boys get to play at camp, while I get to remember it.

So now camp is the place where I learned how to work, and where Lincoln learned how to slide, and Wyatt learns how to swim. Somehow those boys are able to walk around and everyone knows who they are. It's an extremely gratifying feeling to let them run and watch them grow up out there.

Here's to next summer, when they'll be bigger and doing different things and never 1 and 4 again.

My mood: melancholy
Link's mood: runny nose forever
Wyatt's mood: excited about Halloween
Cara's mood: tired of working
Listening to: Nothing. (That's not a band. At least I don't think it is. Is it? I don't know. Look it up. They're great.)

Board!!

2016-08-08T09:27:00.000-07:00

Uncle Kirk hasn't gotten a lot of press around here. We've all been waiting for him to do something noteworthy. He hasn't yet, but I've at least found a way to connect him to my increasingly awesome life.

Kirk and Ashley, with my nephew Bruin. Kirk is sporting a fetching green Cowbucker, while Bruin shows solidarity with the camera.

Kirk, you'll remember, got all of his groomsmen and none of his brothers-in-law some sweet longboards as gifts for his wedding. They were pretty impressive. We even have video of Wyatt trying one out, but here's a picture circa 2014 to melt your heart:

Kirk is in the background somewhere, about to get married or something.

Well, last Christmas Kirk totally crushed his Wyatt present, making him THIS:

Kirk made the board, and gave him the helmet and pads for Christmas. It now tops the charts for "Best Gift Ever Given To Wyatt," which used to belong to Ashley. The order now goes like this: 1) Kirk (skateboard); 2) Ashley (book); 3) Cara (life).

It's a stupidly cool gift. Kirk has always wanted to get Wyatt into Star Wars. Really, young kids everywhere. Really, anyone, everywhere. So he has some hyperspace action happening on the board around the name and this is basically the sweetest thing ever. (Kirk also loaned us the Star Wars DVD's, and sometimes Wyatt says "Dad I have an idea, let's watch STAR WARS THIS SUMMER." It's now August, we've watched some Star Wars, and it's still his plan for the summer.)

Actually, it's so cool that Wyatt has no idea how cool it is. And the prospect of riding a skateboard is a bit daunting for him right now. I'm getting nervous that he's not going to learn to skate until he's too big for the board, and then we will have to place it on the wall above his bed and that's still pretty dang sweet. In the meantime, I might track down a longboard so he and I can skate together.

So, if you are keeping track at home, Kirk has now made boards for his groomsmen and his nephew but none of his brothers-in-law. So I felt the need to take matters into my own hands. Quite literally. If Kirk wouldn't make me a board, I'd have to make me one myself, darn it. So this started:

The guy on your left is Josh. He built, or at least helped Kirk build, all of the boards that Kirk has claimed credit for over the years. I called him up and we started building a paddle board. Josh makes lots of boards as a hobby under the name Forgiven Boards, and I am sure that the little plug I just shot him will get him tons of business. He's currently building a surfboard for a dude in California that I plan to steal before he puts it in the mail.

This is about as much help as Wyatt ever was. In the above two pictures, we are gluing the side rails to the board after having cut and glued the ribs and spine to the bottom skin.

Josh and I were floating the river one day. It was in June of 2015. He is always talking boards with people, and I tell him my wife would like me to make her a paddle board or else the love is gone forever. He was down.

In August I called him and we got started. He was thinking it'd take a few months. In July I got on the water. (seriously). A few things happened that caused it to take so long: 1) I found blueprints for the largest paddle board ever. It actually needs to be registered as a boat in 7 different states. 2) We were only able to work about once a week, and each time we got to work we had to figure out where we left off, which wasted about 12 minutes per session. 3) Spring. Man, spring time was busy for us.

Josh and I had a great time working together, and I learned a ton. When it was time to get the board wet, I was nervous and wanted to be careful and didn't want to it get damaged, so I knew just where I wanted the maiden voyage to take place:

Funny story: I still don't have a paddle for my stand up paddle board.

Here are some cool pictures of the final product:

What's crazy is how tall the board is, knowing that I AM SEVEN FEET TALL.

Which... I guess... makes Wyatt a 5 FOOT TALL 4 YEAR OLD.

INSERT ANOTHER SIZE JOKE HERE.

Cara spent a lot of time upset with me for making a sit-down paddle board. She's the best.

The board is lots of fun to play on, and moves and floats wonderfully. If you are wondering how to make a paddle board, here are the steps:

1) Start sanding. Everything. Just, take my word for it and sand.
2) Go online and find a blueprint you want to follow. Print up the blueprint, buy the wood (cedar) and glues you'll need. Sand all of these things.
3) Have a friend who builds boards and has all the tools. Go to his house a lot and do what he tells you to.
4) Wear ear protection.
5) Sand the board. Several times. You've not yet sanded enough. Sand it more. If you feel like you are done sanding, this means you are halfway done with all of the sanding you'll have to do. The wood will feel so soft when you are done sanding that you want to make a pillow out of it.
6) Glue, stain, fiberglass, apply polymer finish, sand.
7) Realize that you still need to buy things like a fin, a paddle, a life jacket, groceries, and life insurance. Don't panic.
8) Be prepared to act like you built the thing, even though Josh did. Tell the right stories, discuss the tricks and things to be careful of, try to use technical terms that you don't really understand.
9) Pretend like that bug didn't fall onto the board while you were fiber-glassing, and that you can't always see it forever when on the board.

Thus ends the tale of the paddle board. I am so relieved its over and have really enjoyed playing on it and making it. Wyatt loves to float with me, Cara will one day stand on it, I'm sure, and Lincoln doesn't know what's going on ever, so his opinion on the point is not very interesting. But most of all, thanks to Kirk for having a friend named Josh who was willing to put up with me for nearly a year long process. Way to go Kirk. And Josh. And Grant. Mostly Grant, probably.

My mood: proud and content
Wyatt's mood: wants to play Spider-Man tag
Link's mood: sick and fussy and teething and growing pains and ugh.
Cara's mood: working too hard.
Listening to: The Shins.

Fixer Upper Love!!

2016-07-23T08:38:00.000-07:00

I'm sure you remember that I've put my kids on a screenless summer. This was prompted when Wyatt walked up to me and said "Hey dad, did you know that Nationwide is on your side?" He then sang the jingle four times during breakfast. I don't let the kids watch or play anything on a screen, unless I am tired or annoyed with them or they ask me or Cara is home. She lets those kids watch screens all day, mostly so she can watch "Spy Brothers," which is what Wyatt calls "Psych."

One of the things that Wyatt has picked up from Cara, apart from a general disdain for laundry, is a love of Chip and Joanna Gaines and their little show: Fixer Upper.

Link is preparing for our eventual trip to Texas, where we meet Chip and Joanna Gaines

We went to bed one night, and Wyatt says "Hey gad. We should turn half of the garage into a library, and move some things to make more space in the halls." It was really great advice, actually. Cara and I could use more library space since we read so many books on our kindles (these don't count as screens), and the hall has been tougher to walk through ever since I put on weight. Wy is curious about every wall. "Is that a load bearing wall? We can just knock that out and create some great space and add some light in there," he says to any store worker he can find. He usually follows this by asking "Hey gad what's load bearing mean?"

He wants to go and meet them ALL the TIME. He is always asking "Are we in tex-ess now?" He even wants to change his name to Wyatt ChipandJoannaGaines Conrad, which, yeah. I'm on it. He really wants to play with their kids, because he views their kids as potential friends. There's nothing he likes more than friends. Except for maybe Chip. Wyatt always says "Dad you're funny like Chip," which surprises me because I wouldn't think Wy would understand Chip's subtle, nuanced humor. He's so used to my jokes, which usually involve a finger being pulled.

Here's the thing about Chipstopher Thomas Gaines, which is his full name I think: Dads identify with him. Us dads all see ourselves as funny, passably handsome, able to charm our wives with boyish antics, and from Waco, Texas (pronounced: Wacko. Most people get this wrong.) I personally identify more with Paul Rudd, however. Sometimes I watch that guy and think "That could've been me." Other times I watch him and think "You look just like that guy from Ant Man."

It's sure cute the way Wyatt fixates on them. Everyone knows that people can't just become friends with TV stars. Even wanting to become friends and trying to make it happen is silly, because it just can't. It doesn't matter HOW perfectly your families would get along - which we totally would - it's just a silly dream that has way too many logistical hurdles to overcome. Like, where would we stay when we went out to visit our friends the Gaines's? Certainly not with them, because that would be weird OF THEM to have some internet strangers whose kid and also mom adore them stay at their house before they met (not weird of us), but I guess that wouldn't actually be a problem because my best friend from childhood just moved to Wacko while his little sister plays soccer at Baylor (Wow, that came together nicely)

This was taken shortly after we said "Hey Wyatt, pretend like you are saying hi to an acquaintance that you don't really like, but have to spend a lot of time with." We were surprised he knew what "acquaintance" meant.

And, like, what would we do when we got together? At first it'd be awkward hanging out with famous people, but I'd reassure Joanna that most of my page views are from some bots that I set up and my daunting 80 hits per post isn't genuine, so I think she'd relax. (Could this really work?) Then I supposed I'd have to turn my charm up to 11, but it's been done before. Finally, Wyatt would pull some antics, like my personal favorite: He walks up to his baby brother who can't talk and asks him a question. Link responds with some sort of grunt. Wyatt gets in his face and says "Lincoln are you lying to me?!" It's gold. Jo will love it.

And we wouldn't need to be on the show or anything, because who wants a handsome, funny sidekick mucking things up on a reality show, amirite? No, we'd probably just chat and laugh and enjoy each other's company while our kids play and Chip and I leg wrestle. Then when they come out to Oregon to visit us, we'd patiently tell Joanna "My sister is an interior designer who has done the same church 4 times so we don't need your accent wall even though that's a pretty good idea" while showing them the fireplace insert that we did or how handy my son was at the age of 15 months. J-Anne will love it. (This is perfect! I'll check the calendar).

Cara chalked the word "Love" herself. She did it on her birthday, what was a little uncomfortable for those of us that had to watch her work on it during the party.

(Did you note how I added a drawer to the fireplace mantle? I call it an open-faced drawer, where I stack Wyatt's clothes on it as I am doing the laundry, and then don't actually take it to his room ever. It got to the point where I would be dressing Wyatt in his room, and we'd go out to the fireplace to find a shirt. You're welcome, Mrs. Gaines.)

Ok, fine, Chip, you drive a hard bargain. We'll come deliver the one paper airplane my son had me make to your 9 kids or however many you have, so they can take turns flying it. We'll hang out and become best friends and you'll come to Eugene to watch Duck Football games with me. On TV, I mean, not at the stadium. That's not free. Actually, we'll probably on my iPad because we don't get cable (Which reminds me: Can you fill me in on what's happened lately on the show? Netflix doesn't go beyond season 2). Like, you can have the game on your iPad and I'll watch it on mine. The wives can go and do wifey things, but mine usually works Saturdays so I'll try to find an iPad for JoJo. Don't bring the kids because I seriously don't have enough iPads for everyone. Looking forward to our future friendship.

Wyatt's mood: excited to go to Texas and make friends, which I've promised him is bound to happen so don't let him down.
Link's mood: wants to get on the counter. Always. It's all he wants.
My mood: excited to make friends and possibly get discovered but it's not like that's my goal or anything
Cara's mood: avoiding laundry and trying to track down more iPads
Listening to: Green Day

Bike Riding!!

2016-06-24T01:30:00.000-07:00

Guys!! After no more than two hours of me officially being in summer, I accomplished one of my summer goals: Wyatt can ride a bike!!

Since he's only 4-and-a-half I think this makes him the youngest person to ever ride a bicycle ever. And you'll never guess who had absolutely nothing to do with this great accomplishment: Cara.
And listen, I was going to break it down in all the boring details: The trials, tribulations, triumphs and tiaras, but instead let's hit the blueprint.

1) We got Wyatt a balance bike over a year ago. He spent about 4 days slowly walking with it between his legs, never once pushing or gliding. It was painful and hilarious.

2) I took him camping and made up a new game: See how far you can go without your feet touching the ground. Withing 20 minutes he was doing this:

(please forgive the poor video/picture quality lately, I'm having a lot of computer issues)

Just so you know, that was by far his worst run. Most of the time it was smooth, straight, non-nearly-disastrous sailing.

3) I borrowed a bike-with-pedals from a friend last Sunday. On Monday, I took him outside and gave him the following instructions: Ride it like its your balance bike, but you can use the pedals if you want." I went inside to get the camera, came out, and he was doing this:

It had seriously been like two minutes. I wish I could take credit for this, but it is really all due to that darned little balance bike he started on.

4) A little later, we are working on tricks:

Now, I know those aren't very impressive tricks, but sheesh they are sure adorable. Even today he tried to stand up on the pedals a little, which really just means he got his cute little rump half an inch off the seat.

But really and truly, the best part about all of this is that on that first day he stopped mid-ride, ran up to give me a hug, and said "Thanks for teaching me how to ride a bike, gad! This is the best day ever!!"

We've had a lot of fun biking places since then. He fell down once, scraping his knee a little. When we got home, Cara and I sat down to read/watch Netflix/ignore Lincoln, and Wyatt walked up and said "Um, excuse me, isn't everyone supposed to be taking care of me?" This is what Cara says every day, so, it's no shock where he got that from.

My mood: super proud and super pleased

Wy's mood: super proud and super pleased

Listening to: the menu music to the movie "Creed" over and over.

Screen Time!!

2016-05-30T10:07:00.000-07:00

Guys, you know how pretty much everyone recommends that kids have somewhere between 0 and 20 minutes of screen time per day? Well, I'm such a good dad that I've basically quintupled those numbers. That's right: 0 to 100 minutes of screen time per hour for my kids.

You'll have to forgive the upcoming blurriness. For some reason my iPad refuses to take good pictures anymore. But you get the idea.

It's hard being so effective as a parent all the time. When compared to recommended daily values, I went ahead and triple the amounts of sugar, sodium, and chicken nuggets they consume. But what's most challenging is probably knowing what the boys should be watching during their unlimited, healthy screen time. Wyatt watched 42 episodes of Beyblade Let it Rip!! in what I think was four days, drastically increasing his knowledge of ripcords and tired anime tropes. (Theme song: "Beyblade beyblade let it rip! Beyblade beyblade let it rip! Beyblade beyblade let it rip!" Repeat x13). Lincoln has hacked the password for my iPad and can now watch PBS kids, but I usually funnel his attention to Pokemon to make sure he's not falling behind other kids his age when it comes to catching them all.

Cara and I work opposite schedules. I am usually at school from 7:30 - 3:30, and she's often at the Pharmacy from 3:00 - 9:00. This timing is a lifesaver for our marriage, because spending time with me is the worst, but has always made it hard for us to get our little ones on good sleep schedules. It's usually not until summer time, when I am off work, that I a) get the kids outside, running and playing, every day, and b) can be in sole control of naps and bedtimes. Right now, Link almost always takes a nap around 3:00 (transition time between parents), and thus is up until about 1:00am. How do I handle him being up so late? NETFLIX.

AKA screen time.

Now, don't think that screen time is ALL we do at the Gil residence. Here's proof that my children shouldn't be taken from me:

That's right!! Rock climbing!! The volunteers were super impressed with how brave he was, climbing above his head, but even more so that he was easily willing to let go of the wall and hang down by the rope. He's only four! And I know some 30-year-old handsome blogging math teachers who would be afraid to do that.

Also, here's proof that Luncoln once had this one time he wasn't watching something

Ok, yeah, I'm not actually sure what this proves. That... than Link can grade tests? Or eat pen caps. Either way, those things are definitely on the list of "Not Screen Time" and therefore count as evidence towards my good parenting.

In the glorious summers, our screen time will plummet to nearly zero. So will Link's education. He won't learn anything about superheros or bad sitcoms or even trains that can talk. I think it's worth it. But for about three more weeks, we'll be awful parents (Cara's definitely the worst) and our kids will get their fill of television.

Ahh, summer. It's like a dream that's realized every year. It's waiting like waiting on a prophecy while remembering that it already came to pass. Teachers sleep in, kids play outside, breezes blow through the house, books are read, video games are played, and hammocks are filled.

I asked Cara what her goals were for this summer. It's usually things like "build a fire pit," "build a deck," "just build a planter box or something for crying out load," and other pipe dreams that are impossible. This time she said "I want Wyatt to learn to swim and learn to read. What are yours?"
"I want him to learn to ride a bike, to throw and catch really well, and to add and subtract."
This means we are either really great parents or super lame adults, I'm not sure. You'll note there were no Lincoln goals in there. Why? Because if he can just say "up" and go to bed before tomorrow, I think we're happy.

My mood: eyes hurt from screen time
Wy and Link's mood: eyes are ever-improving due to screen time
Cara's mood: sleepy
Listening to: Beyblade in my head incessantly.

Play Date!!

2016-04-23T23:23:00.000-07:00

This sums up my two special children quite nicely. Link falls asleep while eating, Wy doesn't want to start eating in the morning.

A friend recently wanted to borrow my truck. This is a common occurrence, actually. The fact that he didn't want to borrow me to help move things with said truck was a downright miracle. When he and his son came to grab the truck, I offered that his boy could stay and play with me. I mean, Wyatt. Play with Wyatt.

Boom. Playdate.

Playdates are the best because a) Wyatt doesn't want to spend any time with me when friends are here, but more importantly b) they let you compare how your kid is doing to someone else's kid.

I can say with ample evidence and a firm conviction that my kid is way more special than his kid. In this case, let's call that other, non-special kid "Doug."

Sure, Doug can ride a bike with pedals, but Wyatt can almost brush his own teeth.
Sure, Doug can read, but Wyatt can play Angry Birds really decently.
Fine, Doug has coping mechanisms to deal with things like losing a race or handling Wyatt's cheating when winning races, but Wyatt is able to break down into tears when he loses, so everyone acts like he won. This is a strategy that will never backfire.
And I get it: Doug has better grammar. When I tell Wyatt to eat his dinner, he says "I'm are" instead of "I am," whereas Doug says "I think you meant 'I am,' " and it's like come on Doug you can't end a sentence with a preposition. Oh, what's that? I guess you're correct, Doug, "am" isn't a preposition. Nice work."
See, here's the important thing: Doug is twenty-one days older than Wyatt. So, in three weeks, Wyatt will be just as good at all of the above things, no sweat. So enjoy that head start while it lasts, D, because Wy and I are coming for you.

But Wyatt is way better at making up songs. Today, he sang "I'm - going to throw - to the moon - this car!" to the tune of "I want to tear my ears out," and all Doug could say was "What are you doing?" or "I don't think that's a real song."

Still, it's lots of fun watching two four-year-olds try to make up rules to Candy Land, build a train track that is straight awful (I even told them this. I walked up and was like "This track is garbage, you two gotta figure this out." I think they respected me for my courage and honesty.), and maybe engage in what can only be described as a screaming contest.

This was a result of a game called "Hip Hip Hooray!!" where they would throw Candy Land cards in the air. I tried to get them to play a version where they throw weeds into a bucket, but they saw through it. Doug said "I think you are just trying to get us to do yard work!" and Wyatt tried to pick his nose but kept missing.
Also, no, the shade on that light isn't dirty, clean your computer screen.
Also, yes, that does look sort of like a cool eclipse.

It was also fun to observe how they handled independence. When Greg - shoot!! Doug!! - was dropped off, I told his dad my plan was to nap as much as possible, and the kids wouldn't be terribly supervised. I think he thought I was joking BUT I DON'T JOKE ABOUT NAPS. While I was in bed, I heard one of them say "Are we alone?" Doug said "My dad left. Is your dad here?" Wy said "I don't know, I think he left too." Then they just kept playing. An undisclosed-and-yet-totally-appropriate amount of time later I came out and they said "Oh we weren't alone!"

"You never are. I always be with you." I said to Doug.

So now we know that Lord of the Flies is bogus. Also, I think we now know that parenting isn't really necessary past the age of 3.

Successful play date with minimal parenting. And the best part is now Doug's parents owe us a babysit, so our next weekend away is covered.

My mood: accomplished
Wy's mood: Not sharing great
Link's mood: sick and sleepy
Cara's mood: at work
Listening to: Michael Jackson

Christian Music!! And Puffin Rock!!

2016-02-22T20:15:00.003-08:00

Change is coming to the Special Household. Lately, Wyatt will sing along with and repeat any song he hears, often as soon as he hears it. Sometimes he'll hear a line and immediately sing it himself. Recently, while listening to some Classical Music of the Ke$ha Variety, Wy asked "Why does it say 'We're going to die young?'" His favorite is "X's and Yo-ho-ho's they want me!" at the top of his lungs:

I've made the very hard choice to only listen to good music around him, by which I mean musicthatisusuallyreallybad: Christian radio. I think it's advertised as "Some of the same songs you sing in church, but performed by a guy you want to punch!" I've heard the song about Him being a Good Good Father (it's who He is) seven times in two days. It literally repeats every word and line 5 times (not literally).

Is this a worthwhile sacrifice? Probably. Most of the "good" music on the radio is still surrounded by six hours of people making sounds like they are having sex, or is 15 years old anyways. For every one of Bieber's "Love Yourself" there are 4 other of Bieber's "Whatever else I sing." You might be thinking "Hey Grant, why don't you just play your own music." Great idea, you fantastic problem-solver you! But the CD-player in my car doesn't work, someone stole all my tapes, and my phone can only hold like 4 sound effects at this point.

Wy finally realized how to play so Link won't ruin everything. I dressed both boys all by myself!! Except Wyatt. This picture is symbolic of Christian Music, I'm sure.

This, of course, isn't the only thing I've given up since Wyatt has grown into the impressionable ages. When he was around two years old, his Sunday School teacher approached me and said "Wyatt's been acting rather aggressive and punching the air a lot." I said "Oh, just the air? So, like, not people?! DOESN'T SOUND LIKE A BIG DEAL." Then I said "Yeah, he's been watching me play a lot of a super-violent Batman game." I've not played the game (or games like it) since.

Cara and I have given up good TV as well. It's become a whole lot of Pokemon over here. I came home one day and saw him watching one of the cartoons and I was terrified, for two reasons: 1) A Pokemon habit can become rather expensive over time. 2) THERE ARE LIKE 6 MILLION EPISODES OF THE SHOW. It was also rather depressing when Wyatt could encapsulate the whole dang show after two episodes: "Dad, Ash is a good guy, and he has pokemon! One of them is pikachu. Team Rocket is the bad guys, and they try to catch pikachu."

Wait, still? They are still trying to catch pikachu? It's been like 18 years. Has the show just had Team Rocket trying to catch Ash's pikachu every episode? Why not catch any other pikachu?! There is literally an infinite supply in Veridian Forest. Can my 4-year old really grasp THE WHOLE SHOW after two episodes?

So we agree that kids shows are the worst. Except for one... um... exception: PUFFIN. ROCK.

Have you seen this show? It's on Netflix. Netflix gets parenting. They are the same people that put out a fake New Years Countdown so you could put your kids to bed at 6:45 instead of 12:05. Anyways, this is the intro to Puffin Rock, and also, you're welcome:

It's just so calm and soothing. And pretty! I came home one day and Cara was staring at Puffin Rock, mesmerized on the couch. I think she'd been there for four hours. Wyatt was trying to cook dinner for me (and probably himself), realizing that he was in charge of his own survival at that point.

The show itself is equally cute, calm, and pleasant. It's narrated by Chris O'Dowd, which, if you don't know who that is, stop what you are doing and go watch The IT Crowd right now. (well, don't stop what you're doing, because you are reading this blog. Instead, keep reading, and then share this with everyone on all your social medias. Then go watch The IT Crowd and also you're welcome.)

Music. TV. Video Games. It's like all these things might actually just be bad if I can't consume them in front of my children. I might give them all up forever. I wonder what kind of things I could accomplish without these distractions. Really, I wonder if anything like these distractions is ever worthwhile. What is worthwhile? Probably reading my Bible and trying to help other people. Which sounds a lot like Christian radio. Hmm, this is rather annoying.

My mood: surprisingly contemplative about life changes

Wyatt's mood: ever-calmer as those puffins play tag. (Kidding. Wyatt's mood is DAD! LOOK! PIKCAHU!)

Link's mood: he keeps falling and hitting his head

Cara's mood: She acts like she keeps falling and hitting her head

Listening to: Puffin Rock

Lots of Talking!!

2016-01-18T07:46:00.002-08:00

I don't know who had the bright idea of teaching Wyatt to talk. It's all he ever does now. It's incessant. Which is the opposite of cessant. I wish it was cessant. He will talk and talk and go on and on and it's like the stuff he's saying has no point and I have no idea where he gets it from.

He has a wonderfully active imagination. He tells story after story about his snow house, which has all the things we don't have at home. "Dad do we have cereal with eyes?" (This is what he calls Cinnamon Toast Crunch.) "No, Wyatt I ate it all in a day." "Oh, well at my Snow House there's cereal with eyes." And 10 bathrooms. And a snow car. And a snow bike. It's like this all day.

Here's Wyatt regaling a crowd of high school girls with his stories of how he can stand on one foot. If only I'd known how well this worked when I was in high school. I figured it out much too late. When I tried this move in college, no ladies were impressed. They were looking for handstanders at that point, methinks.

What's worse is the attention he demands. If I don't respond to every single prompt, it gets repeated. I know this is parenting 101, I even wrote about this coming day a couple summers ago, but it's SO BAD. What's worse is when Wy repeats what he says for my own benefit, because once wasn't enough. Just yesterday, we had this conversation:

In an annoying, giggly voice: "Hey dad! You're a snowman!"

In an irritated, yet firm, soothing, manly voice: "Oh, wow."

In an informative, excited voice: "Hey dad! I said "Hey dad, you're a snowman!""

"Oh, wow."

I get in the habit of saying "yes" or "uh huh" or "oh, wow" to anything coming out of his direction, a hundred and twelve times per day (I counted once). Today, I think I agreed that "If a lightsaber hits your head then your head explodes," for example.

Sometimes I say "Wyatt, it's time to be quiet. You're being too noisy." I might've yelled this whilest exasperated. He got real quiet and sad and said this: "I'm sorry dad. ... I'll be quiet. ... ... ... ... Sometimes I talk too much. I'm sorry. ... ... ... [awkward laugh] ... it's just that I like to talk. ... At my snow house I talk all the time. Sometimes I'll tell stories to my snow brother!" He went on from there. I bought myself about 9 seconds of silence and 30 years of guilt. He's so gosh darned sweet!

The other day, Cara and I said "Wyatt go away. You're being too loud. Go somewhere else." (#dadoftheweek). This happened:

Wyatt went to the far wall and put his back against it. He then looked at us. And started blissfully talking to us. Also, wow, I can't believe how clean the house looks. Don't look too closely at that kitchen.

Seriously, who decided to teach this kid words?!

On a different note: When will Lincoln start talking!? I can't wait!! He does the cutest job of trying to mimic me sometimes. Watch me making his favorite sound, then him trying to make it:

I love it when he laughs, and when he tries to make the sounds himself. I also like that Wyatt is in the background talking at times, with no one responding to him.

My mood: needing some quiet time
Wyatt's mood: wanting to go to the snow house
Link's mood: wanting to play with the fireplace
Cara's mood: wanting to make me some dinner
Listening to: Jet

First Step!!

2015-12-30T09:49:00.000-08:00

Well, I've stepped on my first baby.

(Don't worry, it wasn't one of mine)

Here's Wyatt, pining for some of his mom's attention. She's just happy to have some cuddles. Also, that couch is beautiful.

Don't act so shocked, nor surprised. I know that all of you faithful readers really look up to me, thinking of me as the greatest father and person of the day. I am, probably, but the CDC estimates that 73% of people will step on at least one baby in their lifetime. The fact that it took me so long is a testament to my grace and concentration.

So we're at Cara's parents house for Thanksgiving. I am running my traditional play (you know the one, say some hellos, eat some snacks, go to the spare room to watch tv/play ipad/nap for the next 6 hours. As I am walking in there are sleeping pads all over the floor. Not uncommon, people sleep on those floors a lot during the holidays. Usually me, really. I take a step, feel an odd softness/hard lump, and hear the baby start crying.

I do what anyone would do: tell the baby to quiet down, throw the blanket over its head, and hope it fades. It doesn't. I check it to see if it's dying. It isn't. I decide to go tell an adult. I find dad and say "... um Baby's crying."

Dad says "Yeah? She just went down. Everything okay?"

"I think she got stepped on."

*startled* "Really?"

"Yeah. By me. I think I stepped on her. I did, actually. Yeah, it was me that stepped on her and that's why she's crying. She's under a blanket because I put her under it so you wouldn't hear the crying." (A few other people in the house rudely start eavesdropping and ruderly start judging. Him.

We go, grab the baby (who is totally fine, just a little sweaty in the face), and he says "Mom shouldn't have put her right in front of the door." (She really was, though next to a bed. Horrible parenting.)

Now, here's the good news: The above story is true, and happened about 4 years ago. Baby has grown up just fine, apart from that big bend in her leg that we think comes from wearing shoes on the wrong feet a couple times.

Something really cute and happy must be happening right now.

Bad news: I stepped on my second baby yesterday. Mine.

Now, Nielsen Ratings estimate that 93% of people step on at least two babies during their lifetimes. So if it hasn't happened to you yet, it will. Also, protip: If your made up stats don't end in 0, 5, or 2, they are much more believable.

We were again at Cara's parents house. I was again playing games on my ipad, and was told Link needed a new diaper. I don't know why Cara didn't just change it herself, she was just watching a lifetime movie. Yeah, we get it, they had a kind of hard past and you're going to spend two hours showing them that they love each other. They'll probably buy a cute ornament FROM HALLMARK.

Anyways, Link's on the floor. I see him, get up to grab him, and am still playing my game. I trip on a ski boot, but with my remarkable core strength and balance, I power through and keep walking, all while still pwning some noob. Well, Link moved mid-step and snuck into the path of my trip-step. My foot ended up right on the base of his neck at the spine.

Remember!! Core strength!! I put very little weight on him, stepped off immediately, beat the game, then took care of him. All's good.

I get that you read the title of this blog and probably thought I was going to talk about Link's excursions into the world of walking. It turns out he has no interest whatsoever in walking. He's been able to stand - on his own with no assistance - for months. He has great balance and stability, but realizes he can crawl way faster than walk. We've seen him take one-and-a-half steps several times, but then he calmly gets on the ground and crawls.

It's funny, because Wyatt started walking just before 10 months, which makes him the earliest walker in recorded history despite all of you telling me that your nephew started earlier. But Link is too concerned with eating everything in sight and improving his bite location to really be concerned with bipedal movement.

My mood: ashamed
Wyatt's mood: alphabet
Lincoln's mood: Wants nothing more than to put his hands in the toilet
Cara's mood:

Happy Birthday Lincoln!!

2015-12-20T23:56:00.000-08:00

Lincoln has made one whole trip around the sun. Seen all of its sides, knows what to expect. He turned one year old!!

One!! We decided to go with a Mike Tyson themed party because Lincoln has become a bit of a biter, with his 4 razor-sharp teeth. Actually, he only really bites if he thinks you are food, or if his brother has been laying on his back too long. Hasthagchampionshipbelt. Also, really well groomed.

We had a big party for him. All of our friends and family and most of the important/beautiful people in town came. (Sorry you didn't get invited. Now you know you are none of the above things.)

Wyatt asked "Can we open presents now?!" no less than 68 times. We said yes four of those times.

Lincoln opening presents with all of his decapitated family.

We bought 24 cinnabons for this shindig. Not the lame "minibons" either but the real deal. Our guests ate 7. Total. I ate 7. In 40 hours. It shortened my life span by roughly 8 months. Like, when I am dying, I'll think "was it worth those seven cinnabons? I could live until almost next year if I hadn't done that." We'll have to see. There's a chance my life is pretty lame at that point anyways. There's also a chance I'll lose another several months to cinnabon binges between now and then.

Uncle Garrett. I can't remember if this was during the party or four hours after. I also can't remember if all those plates were his or just three of them. What's he thinking about, anyways? Murder? A frustrating conversation? Lost?

Mom thought this was cute. Cute that we got him drunk and took a picture, I mean.

We had a friend give us a big inflatable bouncy house. It had no less then 15 holes. It turned into a great air-mattress that turns into a decent floor over time. Here's Wyatt all puckered out. (We were going to use it as a boxing ring, because, yknow, Mike Tyson themed, but we had to cut off all of the house-stuff because of all the holes. THANKS FRIENDS, for the holy bouncy house for free.

No one was more excited about this than Wyatt, who loves Link so much it's stupid. You remember Wyatt's first birthday. We got him a candle and threw a huge Legend of Zelda party and I filmed while Cara burned his fingers.

This time around, we decided I'd manage the sugar and Cara'd do the filming. I'd love to show it to you, but Cara actually didn't film it. Like, I was writing this blog post and she said "You know I don't have any video, right?" I'm pretty sure she took a couple selfies instead.

So, when I record, she burns the kid, but we get it on film. When she records, everything goes great, but we don't get it on film. When I record AND do everything, it'll be the Lincoln's second birthday and she'll be in the corner. Where she belongs. For hours.

Lincoln is way more fun at one year than he was at one month. Laughing all the time, always happy unless he's hungry, which he always is, following his brother around and pulling mom's hair. Can't wait for more birthdays with this guy. Any maybe without Cara.

My mood: sugar-high
Wyatt's mood: unsure how to handle the fact that Lincoln has his own toys now.
Lincoln's mood: unsure how to handle any of his own toys.
Cara's mood: blaming everything on the camera. "It was set to night-time!!"
Listening to: Christmas music.

The L-Word

2015-12-04T17:51:00.000-08:00

Behold, and weep!! Witness before you the image of the world's perfect family!! Tremble at the awe you feel and the insecurity growing in your stomach over the inadequacies of your family!! Ignore the fact that Lincoln is actually crying and the only reason Wyatt is smiling is because I am tickling him!!(more thanks to Kaela May https://www.facebook.com/kaelameyphoto/?fref=ts )

We've done a lot of things right as parents. You can tell this is true by our perfect picture above. One of the best parent choices we've made is to name the second special kid something that starts with "L." Right up there with our choice to double-down on that bacon sale last month. Hearing Wyatt say "Baby Winkin" for the past 11 months has been nothing short of glorious.

Sadly, it's past time that we start working on how clearly Wyatt talks. Lots of his friends were getting frustrated with him, not knowing what he was saying. (I kept trying to convince them that what he was saying wasn't actually that interesting, but they wouldn't listen. Little brats.) He struggles with his L's, Th's, and long division. I spent most of the summer saying "luh-luh-luh-luh-Lincoln," and showing Wy how I put my tongue on the top of my mouth. He would practice, starting with Wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh-Winkin." This quickly turned in to "Luh-luh-luh-luh-Winkin," which was a step in the right direction, but there wasn't any real improvement. Even words like "like," "love," "left", "three," "the," and "mom" are still said as "wike," "wove," "weft," "free," "da," and "the worst."

It was a bit discouraging to work at these phonetics for so long and not see any real change. I was getting a little nervous, actually. Then, all of a sudden, one day Wyatt said "Llllincoln's poopy!!" I didn't notice at first, but Wyatt said the "L" very deliberately. I also didn't really notice that Lincoln was poopy, because I was busy recording my mixtape. But a little later, it was "Hey dad! Llllincoln lllikes this!" while dragging Link across the kitchen by his ankles.

There it was. Two deliberate, accomplished L-words in a row. We made it.

Wyatt teaching Winkin how to pick wocks at dad's work.

It's pretty great to hear him try to say all L-words with that deliberate effort. But there is one word we haven't changed, and hopefully never do: "littlest."

He has said "Yitterest" the whole time. Like, "Dad, Winkin is the yitterest baby!" or "Dad, how come you're muscles are the yitterest?!" or "Mom, you are home the yitterest and should have lots of guilt about that!!" It's amazing how articulate and cutting he can be. "Yitterest" is the best thing in our lives right now. Besides the X-Files, obviously.

So, we're torn with helping him learn and grow as an almost-teenager (only 9 years away!), while trying to keep him cute and cuddly and also trying to get him to do the dishes. It's a tough balance, but as always, I'll handle it perfectly.

My mood: Sad that Wy is growin up
Wy's mood: He's not tired, but sleepy. He made this very clear to me as he crawled in bed for a nap.
Lincoln's mood: 3 teeth to cut!! We're all miserable!!
Cara's mood: Off to work.