Fever Dog
As Kelly and I danced, painfully working our way through the ‘Electric Slide’, Ian was sprawled in my arms, dead to the world.
Not the Baby
My son is inflicted with a strange sort of paralysis. Ian was slow in learning to crawl, partly because he learned to roll so early. Why bruise your knees when you can steamroll across the floor, trampling everything in your path? Now that Ian’s got the hang of it, I can’t turn my back on […]
You’ve come a long way, baby!
This time last year, Kelly, Ian and I were still recovering from the most tiring night of our lives.
It’s a Boy!
…He doesn’t knock them off, or toss them over his shoulder. He carefully grasps them, lifts them into the air, and slams them to the carpet.
The Accidental Tourist
Misdirected right hooks are a thing of the past. Head-butts are still a significant danger.
Dutch Windmill
His clothes were a magician’s scarf; an endless tangle of bits of clothing, until all that’s left is David Copperfield in his underwear.
Reign of Terror
Suddenly it felt as if the kid next door had come over to play and found the Lite-Brite I’d left, neglected, at the bottom of my closet.
Industrial Lubricant
They should have sent us home from the hospital with handi-wipes. Or at least ponchos.
Ladybug
Rising above Ian’s crib is a friendly, yellow and orange piebald sun. Below him, across rolling green hills, marches a troupe of cavorting ladybugs, ants, and butterflies. They follow a path from Ian’s window, which winds along his crib and trails behind his changing table. Leading this band of merry arthropods is a bright red ladybug…
Hot, Buttered Popcorn
What was once innocent, inoffensive and even endearing, has now become repugnant, tenacious, and…stinky. Who knew sweet potatoes could so change my life? Last week, Dr. Katy told us that Ian’s 15 pounds and 27.5 (but really 28) inches were our cue to introduce him to solid foods. He can laugh, roll over, and grab […]