Do I Have to Spell it Out For You?

In a recent post I commented that I was astounded at how someone on the radio could use "The C Word" outloud during dinner. I opined that they must not have received the memo regarding that word.

Well, it appears that Lukas did, in fact, get the memo. Upon coming downstairs at 7:00 AM this morning, Luke went directly over to a neatly put away box of ASL flash cards, opened them and began thumbing through them, tossing aside the ones he didn't want....




Until he found what he was looking for, and politely walked over to me with big, expectant eyes and handed me this . . .

Chaos Theory

It all seemed pretty placid when I walked through the doors of Lukas' daycare yesterday afternoon. All the children were sitting calmly in a semi-circle with their tiny little backs to me, while the 'teacher' read them a story. I can't remember what the story was, but the scene immediately brought a smile to my face as I perused Luke's chart of progress for the day.

Then I heard him. Lukas was actually sitting in another teacher's lap, so I hadn't actually picked him out of the crowd on my initial glance. But I could see him now, and he was upset. Crying actually. As I went over to find out what was the matter, instead of coming to me for comfort, Lukas got up mid-story and made a bee -line to the sliding plastic curtain separating the playroom from the kitchen. He shook the curtain and wailed.

His teacher got up and explained to me that not 10 minutes before, Lukas had turned to see another mother, her back to him, leaving the building. This mother had the same hair and body type as Mrs. LIAYF and upon seeing this scene Lukas had called out "Mama", "Mama!!" but to no avail. They had been attempting to calm him since.

Surprisingly to me, my appearance had not comforted my little guy in the least. Worse, now he was shaking the curtain harder. Much like Dorothy trying to ferret out the Great and All Powerful OZ. Adding insult to injury, he was now hungry and snack time was in 15 minutes . I was there to whisk him away with an empty belly. He would have none of that.

Another teacher popped up, hoping to calm the scene. "Let me get you a cracker to go, Lukas". Bad idea. One by one the content pre-toddlers, upon hearing the word "cracker" lost focus, jumped up, and moved towards the curtain. The first teacher emerged with a vanilla wafer and handed it to Luke who was now on my hip with a birds eye view of the unfolding chaos below. Another teacher stood up and helped the first try to re-form the story-time circle. However, before one could be set back down, another would jump up and run crying hungry for the curtain. It was clearly a losing battle, but one they continued to wage.

Lukas, happy now, simply looked on from above, enthusiastically munching on his vanilla wafer with a grin. And with the hoard of hungry toddlers having re-grouped and in the midst of mounting another offensive, I quietly backed my way to the exit door and slipped out into the darkness of the early evening.

The "C-Word"

As Lukas' verbal skills continue to improve with each passing day, Mrs. LIAYF and I have been polishing up on our spelling skills. If there is an item or topic we want to discus to which Luke has an associated word, and we don't want him immediately weigh in, we have begun to spell that word out.

O-u-t-s-i-d-e, is a prime example. A few too many slip ups using that word at a time when going outdoors didn't jive with our plans, taught us pretty quickly to spell it out, lest we have a very disappointed little guy on our hands.

Another word, and one that has come up with increasing frequency in recent weeks, is cookie. The mere utterance of the "C-word" gets our little guy worked up into an excited lather. He will immediately stop whatever it happens to be that he is doing and, looking at us with wide, expectant eyes and begin to almost chant '"cuh-cah", "cuh-cah" while consecutively both rubbing his hand across his chest (ASL for please) as well as rotating his nearly cupped together hands back and forth on top of each other (ALS for cookie).

How can we resist? Granted, we don't give him cookies (really just animal crackers) everytime he asks for them, but the above mentioned scenario is just so damn cute, it makes it extremely difficult to say "No". Hence, we have learned rather quickly to spell out the "C-word".

All that being said, we weren't prepared when, 5 minutes into dinner a couple of nights ago, someone talking on the radio inexplicably used "COOKIE" in a sentence. So much for a balanced meal that night. How could they be so inconsiderate? I guess they didn't get the memo.

Mostly though, I think we are good with our current approach. At least until he learns to spell!

Giving Thanks!

Today, I'm thankful for:

1. Banilla Yogurt. It makes for great shave cream, what ever that is.

2. The little red guy with the funny voice. We are like brothers!

3. Sleeping in until 7:30 this morning. Mom and Dad were much more alert when they came to get me out of my sleeping cell.

4. Being the only person under 16 at Thanksgiving yesterday. I got loads of attention. What a sweet gig.

5. That I am feeling better recently, and was able to fight off that nasty staph infection which ruined my Halloween. I have got some catching up to do.

6. Uh, Yeah.....And mostly I am thankful for Mom and Dad, who love me with every ounce of their being. They say that a lot. I am very lucky to have them, although they always tell me that they are the lucky ones.

Happy Black Friday everybody!!

Oh Yes, He'll Sing

In what appears to be an amazing case of dumb luck, I believe I have inadvertently stumbled across what may prove to be a major new tool in the war on terror.

We all know that torture to elicit vital information (tactics such as electric shock or water boarding), are not sanctioned by the Geneva Convention, and for obvious good reasons. Likewise, tactics that once were considered sure-fire ways to convince a combatant to 'give up the goods', such as bamboo shoots under the fingernails, foot roasting, or being slowly drawn and quartered, are neither sanctioned nor practiced by civilized nations in this day and age.

Of course there are other information gathering methods generally deemed more humane and acceptable than the above mentioned interrogation techniques. Sleep deprivation or playing loud rock music come to mind (Actually, this sounds like a typical weekend in our household). But even with these there is no guarantee that if a desperate situation were to arise, where timely information was of the essence, that vital information could readily be obtained.

But I have an interesting new suggestion. When faced with a situation requiring the most extreme truth-eliciting methods, the modern-day interrogator can set aside the Metallica discs, discard those bamboo shoots, empty out the tub of water and instead pull out a...

Diaper!

Yes, a diaper of all things. Based on recent research in our house, the mere act of changing a diaper can turn even the most even-tempered and pain resistant person into a writhing, screaming, kicking, and protesting subject who would do anything, or say anything (within personal limitations, of course) to get you to stop.

I know what you are thinking. "It seems so inhumane". But folks, I can assure you that it's not. The pain associated with this new method is not physical, but rather mental and should not result in any lasting physical effects.

That being said, I will need additional research to determine if there is any long term mental scarring associated to this act.

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I'll post an update in, oh...about 25 years!

Guys Night In

In a bold move designed to lift our family out of the running for the title of Most Boring Family Ever, Mrs. LIAYF decided to take some friends up on an offer to do a girls night out Saturday, leaving Lukas and I home alone. While she was out painting the town red, the Rock Star type Par-tay that I was envisioning for Guys Night In ran into some early snags. Not the least of these was Lukas forgetting to stop and pick up the cigars and beer. Doh!
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In all seriousness though, things were complicated from the outset by the fact that the girls were meeting at 6:00 PM. This meant that it was up daddy to get Lukas bathed and to bed. I don't imagine this would be too big a deal for most parents of a 17 month old, but since we had been taking the whole boring thing so seriously, this is the first actual night that Mrs. LIAYF has intentionally left it to me to get Lukas to bed on my own. (I wasn't joking about the boring thing)

I had put Lukas to bed on my own once before. This happened when Mrs. LIAYF was held up at work, and that went rather swimmingly as Luke curled right up and went to sleep, no questions asked. In my demented sort of parental calculus, that one instance several months ago added up to "No problemo. Piece of cake. Been there, done that".

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I was never strong at math.

This time around was met with a stark and rather immediate realization on Lukas' part that "Things ain't right here! Where's Mama? You have no BOOBIES!"

Still, I have to hand it to the little guy, as he gave it an early college try. After I put him down in the crib, there was about 15 minutes of silence, time where I was wiping my brow and rather pleased with myself for deftly navigating what could have been a very upset, and very unsatisfied little boy.

Then the cries started. Muffled at first, but then much louder. Sticking to our trusted routine, I waited the mandatory 10 minutes, then went to tell Luke it was "night-night time", calming him before leaving the room. I repeated this a couple of times to no avail, before abandoning that and trying to spend some extra time in his room trying to put him to sleep.

That didn't work either. So I returned to the comfort him, leave the room strategy. He would fall asleep intermittently for longer stretches, leaving me thinking he was out for good, but then wake up upset once again. Nerve wracking stuff, which left me with my trigger finger on the Talk button, ready to call home the reinforcements. I held off though, which was for the best.

After a while Lukas tired out and went to sleep, with me still completely on edge-hoping that it would last. In the end I survived, and Lukas is no worse for wear. But without beer, cigars, or television I am only left here to blog about it all while Mrs. LIAYF enjoys a much deserved night out.

Boring is as boring does.

Bring it on!

I have generally greeted that period after Halloween and before, say December 15th, with grudging acceptance. Grudging acceptance of those who would hasten the impending holidays, with lights, trees, Christmas music, ect. . .

It's not like I have had a 'Bah, Humbug' attitude. Not at all. It's just that it has always seemed WAY too early to see holiday decorations sprouting up in early November. After all, once Halloween is in the rear view mirror, there are still nearly 7 weeks before Christmas arrives.

However, this year there is an ever so subtle change brewing somewhere in the inner reaches of this dad's soul. I still think it is too early for the full on holiday barrage of everything red, white, and green. But this year there is a noticeable lack of disdain for those who would hang out the icicle lights right after Halloween or put up the tree the day after Thanksgiving. It is a softening of the spirit that seems to correspond to the multi-faceted softening of the man.

Don't get me wrong. There will be no tree in this house before December 15th. The holiday music will stay on the shelf until then as well and the gift purchasing will most assuredly be last minute as it always seems to be. Rather, It's the spirit of the whole season that seems to have taken a festive new hold in me this year.

Of course, this is in no small part due to the fact that Lukas will be a year and a half old this Christmas, and for the first time will be aware that things are interesting and different around the house. I look forward to sharing all this with him, as well as sharing the spirit of giving that also comes along with all the decorations.

So, to those neighbors planning to decorate with adandon on the morning of Nov 28th, I say "Bring it on!" Just leave the giant, blow-up, holiday themed Scooby Doo in it's box and out of the front yard.

Please!

Deja-Voodoo

This has all happened before. I can sense it. Perhaps last year? Maybe. Regardless of when, I am made aware of it again and again in all its horrific detail each time I step through the front door. "Happy Halloween" greets me cheerily on the porch, but then thumps against the door to my chagrin. The banging of wood on glass serves as a chilling reminder of things left undone.

The life sized skull stares at me with hollow eyes as I pass through the foyer. The hovering hoard of hanging bats flutter gently in the breeze generated by my walk to the fridge. The strings of spiders still cling to my island light fixture, blending neatly with what must be more than a few real ones by now.

The skull lanterns still hang menacingly in our picture window, painting a vivid picture to our neighbors of a family not ready to give up the ghost . . . so to speak. The orange lights still frame our stairs and front porch, adding an unworldly feel to any strangers approach. Hell (yes, hell), even this still smirks at us from an overlooking shelf, as if done with nefarious intent.

The Halloween decorations still adorn our humble home. It is Monday night as I write this and I had every intention of taking them down this past weekend. Really, I did. Didn't happen. Someone passing by might soon begin to suspect we are The Adams Family. Or perhaps even the Munsters (the dearth of sun here in Seattle leaves us all a bit on the pale side this time of year). My procrastination is shamelessly out there for everyone in the world to see.

However, anyone who doesn't read this blog, which pretty much means everyone who is not you, will get a different story. They will hear all about how we missed Halloween this year. And a Birthday as well. No Trick-0r-Treating, No costumes, No cake.

We are just making up for it. And I suspect we will be making up for it until next weekend as well.

Plasma Time

I've decided. I need to get myself a brand new 31'' Plasma! Oh yeah, it's going to be suh-weet. Better yet, this is a purchase the whole family will be able to enjoy. Well...eventually, at least.

Ok, so I'm not talking about a new Plasma TV. Heck, I don't even have cable, not to mention the spare cash to fork over for one of those. Although I have to admit that that would be a nice way to watch my movies at home. Someday.

What I am talking about though, is a PlasmaCar. This toy car was voted a winner in the 2008 Fat Brain toy awards. And deservedly so, I must say.


While checking out an indoor community play area with Lukas yesterday, Mrs. LIAFY and I happened upon a couple of these cars and since the wide open space was otherwise empty, we took them for a spin around the play room. We ended up riding them for several minutes while Luke busied himself with toys his own age (the car is for 3 years and over), and we had a blast!

These cars are operated by inertia, centrifugal force, gravity & friction, so no pedaling or pushing is involved. Just hop on, turn the wheel, and spin around the room. Backwards, forwards, hairpin turns, you name it we were able to do it with these amazing little cars. I had never heard of a PlasmaCar before yesterday, but I was instantly hooked. All you need is a smooth, flat surface and you are ready to roll, continuously!

The heck with buying one for your kids, I recommend you go out and buy one for yourself. You'll definitely feel like a kid again. I sure did.

Fly Me Past the Moon...

Fascinating news came out this week that Astronomers have positively identified the first planets beyond our solar system. Three of the four planets discovered are circling a star named Fomalhault b. (I think we need a naming contest for this one) Fomalhaut b, as it is now known, is said to be 148 Trillion miles from Earth (this # reminds me of the size of our national debt) while those planets discovered are said to be distinctly un-earth like, being comprised mostly of gases.

( rendition by ESA, NASA, and L. Calcada)

Un-earth like perhaps, but still, this news stirs the imagination. Knowing there are planets outside our solar system, as opposed to speculating about them, rekindles once again in this father the fascination with what lies beyond the reaches of our current minuscule view into the vastness of the universe. I find myself again asking "how many billions of other pale blue dots are out there are at this moment circling their own bright stars?" This is a concept that can easily boggle the mind.

Sure, given the limitations of physics as we know them, even if found, never will we be able to actually visit any of these perceived worlds. And never, as imagined in early science fiction, will we be able to gently set our conical rockets down on distant rocky shores or amidst vast cityscape's previously unconceived of by our limited spheres of knowledge. Ah, but to imagine...

To consider that one day Lukas, who harbors a not uncommon fascination with rockets, and whose middle namesake (not by chance) happens to be the second person in human history to plant a foot solidly on another world, could see or even become an astronaut and be the first human to travel beyond the moon to further off worlds in our solar system, perhaps even beyond. Well, even if very far-fetched, that is just a very cool concept to this dad.

But alas, those worlds are still just speculation. And absent the positive discovery of other earth like worlds, I am left currently to wonder about these gaseous planets, identified in the affirmative. Could a different form of life exist there? Could it be sentient? Could, 148 Trillion miles away, some hydrogen based father be just as proud of a little puff of gas as I am of Lukas? Maybe. Just maybe.

Perhaps, in a vignette not unlike one of our own, after speculating themselves about life on other distant worlds, that hydrogen based Fomalhault father holds out what passes for a finger, the little puff tugs on it, and some form of carbon based material is expunged. They both laugh hysterically, while in another corner of their home, a mother gas cloud just rolls what passes for her eyes and sighs.