Deep Questions by Mindy Graves

So I'm sitting in my recliner this afternoon, minding my own business, when I am assaulted by underhanded conniving questions designed to disparage me as a father. Before I elaborate, allow me to set the groundwork. As previously discussed in this blog, I am very afraid of death. I want to live forever. I think that anybody who says they are not afraid of death is either lying, crazy, or reached a higher plain of enlightenment (and I'm not totally sold on the last option). Mindy is well aware of my stance on this matter. Trust me, she knows. So it could be with nothing other than malicious intent with which she proposes the following hypothetical question:

Father Disparager - "Mike, let's say you are presented with a Harry Potter Scenario where you have to choose between Cameron or you dying. Which one would you choose?"

Me (after a pretty brief pause) - "I would live."

Psychological trap setter - "Seriously?!?!?! What if Cam was in the street and a car was coming toward him? You wouldn't try to save him?"

Me - "Of course I would try to save him. I didn't say I wouldn't try to protect our son. I said that in the face of your totally contrived scenario where somehow magically we were assured that only one of us could live, I would choose to live."

Passive Aggressive Quizzer (covering Cameron's ears) - "Unbelievable. I thought you loved our son."

Me - " If it makes you feel any better, if I had to choose between Cameron or you I would choose Cameron to live. See I love our son. Now get off my back and go chronicle this discussion in your Harry Potter Journal."

Well, maybe that last part wasn't said exactly like that, but it's pretty much the gist of the conversation. For the purpose of protecting my image I left out the part where I said we could always have more children. To which she responded that she wasn't so sure she would want to have any more children with me. Ouch. I guess implying our son is replaceable wasn't my finest argument. Regardless, I dare any of you to tell me that I'm in the wrong here. I choose life. If that makes me a criminal, then lock me up. As long as the death penalty isn't involved...

Sibling Rivalry

Reilly and Cameron are locked in a heated battle for superiority. Of course, we encourage this type of healthy competition between our children. We have created a rating system comprised of 5 criteria by which we compare the boys and determine who is better. Right now Reilly holds the edge in intelligence, athleticism, and social skills. Cameron leads in beauty. There is a push for work effort (they are both lazy as hell). That's where they stand now, but Reilly is well aware that it is only a matter of time before his lead evaporates in IQ and social skills. I think this has really hit him recently, because he seems motivated to pick up his game in the athleticism department. We went out on a walk today and Reilly spontaneously began showcasing some doggy Parkour. In a sequence of about 25 seconds he jumped up a 4 and 1/2 foot wall (with no running start), barrel-rolled over a stream landing in a one-pawed arm stand, and scaled a picnic table. Well two of those things really happened, but still it was quite remarkable. I had no idea he had those kind of skills in him. And you should have seen the look he gave Cameron from a top that wall. If he had a computer to blog at that moment, the taunts may have gotten out of hand. Of course shortly after his moment of glory, Reilly was running around a tree about 35 times trying to figure out where a squirrel went. You better savor this summer my furry friend, for your lead is not lasting long. But... you will always have that wall!

The Man

My son is already way cooler than I ever hope to be. Exhibit A: the hair. I wake up every morning and slather my hair with a tub of paste to attempt to make it look naturally disheveled. Cameron's hair coifs into perfection without any product (well, a little regurgitated milk might get in there). Exhibit B: his musical taste. Cameron loves him some James Brown. If he hears any rendition of "I Feel Good" (even an impassioned screech from his father) he will immediately break into a huge smile. No kidding, I sang him "I Feel Good" about ten times in a row yesterday and he smiled at the bridge every single time. As a quasi man of science, I have to reject the null hypothesis of coincidence. Cameron has declared his adoration for the Godfather of Soul. Considering that "mmm bop" by Hanson never fails to put a smile on my face, I think he's taken round two in this contrived coolness competition. Seriously, sometimes I look over at Cameron kicked back in his bumpo seat, grooving to James Brown and I wonder ... is this cat really my son?

Now that the question has been asked, I think it's time to share a little story. Please come back in time with me to a darkened hospital suite in North Austin. The ward is quiet, the family is resting. A nurse quietly enters. She inquires if we would like to have a paternity test done before the birth certificate is completed. Awkward glances are exchanged. Mindy speaks first. The nurse slinks back from whence she came. And thus, no official documentation of my paternity has been established. I remind Mindy of this fact when she asks me to do something for Cameron that inconveniences me. It's a great out.

But what does one do when they've been denied proof of parenthood? You scour for evidence, that's what. So I find myself staring into Cameron's eyes searching to see if the left one is slightly off center. I listen intently to his coos for any indication of speech deficits or a biting wit. And that's how I heard it. Even amidst the background noise of the Countess singing that new hit "money can't buy you class;" it was clear. I heard it and I knew without a doubt that Cameron is my son. For Cameron was creating an exact rendition of the weird throat scratching / throat clicking thing I find myself doing from time to time. If you know me well, you know what I'm talking about. It's my annoying calling card, it's distinct, and if I've done it in your presence it's driven you a little mad. Apparently it's genetic. But there is only one difference between Cameron's version and mine. Cameron makes throat clicking cool. That's what I'm talking about. He's got it all.

To Suck or Not to Suck?

In the last week or so, Cameron has found his thumbs. While I'm not crazy that it's looking like he's going to be a thumb-sucker, this has also meant that he has started to sleep through the night!!! In fact, he slept one night over the weekend from 9:00 PM - 9:30 AM which resulted in eight hours of uninterrupted sleep for me!!! There is no amount of exclamation points that is adequate enough to express the joy that is eight hours of uninterrupted sleep!!!

However, I'm not sure if I should be worried that Cameron is sucking his thumb. He really only seems to do so when he's tired, and once he's fallen asleep, his hands fall out of his mouth. I read an article on BabyCenter.com that said not to worry about it at this age, because he's learning to soothe himself by sucking his thumbs and consequently, if he wakes up, he will be able to put himself back to sleep. During the day, we try to keep his hands out of his mouth unless he's really tired (to be fair, he will suck on his pacifier, so it's not like he's a thumb-only guy). As he gets older, I would prefer for him to suck on a pacifier so that we can take it away later. So what do you think - any advice from all of you experienced parents out there? Should we let Cameron suck on his thumb or not?

P.S. I'm blogging while riding the train into work - LOVE riding the train!

My First Mother's Day

This morning, Cameron woke up at 4:30 AM. When I went to pick him up from his crib, I was pleasantly surprised to find that he had left me several notes to read. One note read, "Happy Mom's Day! I will give you: a laugh, no poops, roll over. You are welcome. Love, Cam" (He went 0 for 3 on his promises.) Our little bambino is so advanced...

Here is one of the notes he left for me:

Later, Mike and Cameron also brought me breakfast in bed. And then tonight, Mike brought me a dark chocolate milk shake from Steak-N-Shake after his softball game. What can I say? I love Mother's Day!

Three-Month Pics

Cameron turned three-months-old today! The unofficial weigh-in is about 15 pounds.

In other big news, Cameron laughed out loud for the first time today! When I talked to my dad at lunchtime today, he told me that Cam laughed, and I was a little sad because this is the first "first" I've missed. But when I got home from work, he was in a good mood, and I tickled him and I heard his little giggle! I will try to get him laughing on video so I can post it.

Here are his three-month pics (note the matching shirts):

I Survived

The first day back to work was okay. Mike's schedule was flexible this morning, so he took Cameron to my parents' house a little later after I left for work. I think that if I had taken him over myself and left him there, a few tears might have been shed. But I survived today...and so did Cameron. It looks like he had more fun with Grammy and Grandpa than I did at work!

It Is Finished...

Sadly, my maternity leave is over. Today was my last day, and tomorrow I have to go back to work. Cue the Funeral March music...

A special thanks to Grammy and Grandpa for watching Cameron for the next month! It does make it much easier to know that Cameron will be with them and not a daycare.

Wish me luck!

Program Development

After much deliberation, Mindy and I have a plan. It is a tentative plan that strikes fear into the hearts of probably 3 of the 4 living things in our house. Mindy tries to put up a front of confidence, but when I look into her eyes all I see is an ocean of fear tossed around by currents of jealousy. I try not to look into her eyes anymore. It's very intimidating to see all of that. Anyway, here's the plan. Starting in June I am going to be the daytime care provider for our son. That's right folks. For about 10 hours a day the only thing standing between a 5 month old and certain death is a man who once tried to "bungee jump" with a rope tied around his chest. Cameron's daily educational enrichment is being placed into the hands of an individual who couldn't talk until he was 4 years old and still gets confused about how to address an envelope. His nourishment entrusted to a person who had a legitimate soda/candy "dealer" throughout his formative years and, when he could not be reached, resorted to inhaling sugar straight from the jar. (Don't judge, you don't know what it's like to need sugar in the face of a sweets gestapo). Anyway, I could go on and on with my anti-resume, but I think you get the point. People are legitimately afraid and the clock is ticking. So, I turn to you for help.

I think maybe it would be wise to develop some structure to my day so that I am left to rely on my instincts as little as possible. I need a Daddy Daycare curriculum. And I would love some assistance in its development. Here's what I got so far:

Daddy Daycare - Day 1
10 a.m. - wake up
?
?
?
?
?
3:30 pm - hand baby back to Mindy

I feel like I've got a strong opening act and conclusion, but could use some help with the rest of the day. Of course I have some other ideas, like: power point presentations on fantasy sports, plyometric work outs that target infant fast-twitch muscles, pooping on nursery rhymes, dressing him up and posing him with various fruits for the creation of a calender, eating, etc. But I could use some help in how to organize these things and actually structure the day. Plus I'm always open to new activity suggestions. I only have a month to get the curriculum in order. So let's get on this people.

Thank you for your assistance in this matter,
Papa