Vacation has begun. I'm officially off of work for the next 2 weeks. As part of my quest to live life like I'm still in high school, I went and scheduled myself a nice little Christmas vacation. But now I am one day in to said vacation and I'm realizing that the reality of these two weeks might be a tad different than the ones I remember so fondly from my youth. In my excitement to get off of work, I failed to consider that this parenting gig wasn't going to take a hiatus as well. Now... I'm thinking I may just plan a few "working days" at the office to prepare for the new year. We'll see how that flies. I don't know how Mindy does it so much, because being in this house is like being constantly cornered by two assailants of need. It's a perpetual dance of placation and/or disappointment. It makes me tired.
But I love me some Cam. That little dude is fun to hang out with. Lately we've been really into playing the Madden football App on the Ipad. He picked our team to be the Bears because they are, and I quote Cam here, "Bad Boys." Then he somehow changed the uniforms to the Bengals so we are now the Chicago Bengals. "We" rely very heavily on our tight ends and slot receivers. At first I thought he was going to seriously injure Martellus Bennett by exclusively throwing him the ball. But now he has developed a nice little rapport with Alshon Jeffery on the slant. "We" rarely win. It took us about 20 tries to beat the Washington Redskins (including a last second pick six that lost us the game because "we" were trying to run up the score). That one stung. But we finally defeated Washington this morning and advanced on to playing the Indianapolis Colts. Cameron refers to our new foe as the "Whiteskins." Sometimes I feel very discriminated against in my house. It's hard to be a minority.
Cameron and I also like to participate in trivia contests. This is a sneak peak at a typical game. I ask Cam if he can name 7 trains from Thomas. He rattles them off in one breath. He asks me an abstract question with multiple answers. No matter what I guess, I am responded to by a loud buzzer noise and a harsh "wrong." It's like doing that psychic game with Bill Murray at the beginning of Ghost Busters. But, it's fun to hear the clever questions and answers he comes up. Like just the other day, he asked me "who is Momma's favorite guy?" I smiled at him smugly and answered, "me of course." I expected the buzzer noise. I was even prepared for him to claim that spot. But I most certainly was not ready for what was to come next. Apparently, my wife's "favorite guy" is the man who was at our house earlier that day fixing the air conditioner. This was rather alarming news. Coming from my family of origin, I am quite aware of the allure that profession can have on the ladies. Graves' Heating and Air is basically just a male prostitution network. If my father or uncle tell you any differently, they are lying. And when you're working in refrigeration you are always working with "hot" women. Ok, I'll stop. But needless to say an extensive interrogation took place to uncover what transpired between Mindy and the repairman. The investigation is still pending.
I had more I wanted to write today, but Mindy is waiting for me so we can do Insanity before the kids wake up from nap. Nap time is not to be squandered in pithy rantings. Fun fact, did you know that Mindy knows the first name of all the back-up fitness participants in the Insanity DVD. I'm beginning to think that this stay at home gig might be a little lonely. And with that realization, I am definitely intensifying my efforts on the repairman case. We shall see if she goes Freon the charges or not... Ok, I'm truly stopping. That was just sad.
Merry Christmas,
Father
Monday, December 23, 2013
Saturday, December 14, 2013
PC or Not PC?
I recently came to the realization that Mike may be more politically correct than I thought. This may shock you, given what he has written on this very blog in the past. However, consider the following examples:
- When Mike's dad first met Carter as a two-month-old, Carter was a cute, chubby baby. Mike's dad affectionately called him a sumo wrestler. Mike told his dad to stop being a racist and just call Carter fat.
- Carter is at the age where he'll do anything to reach a desired object, including throwing himself out of my arms or face planting to the ground, so I like to say he's my little kamikaze baby. Mike immediately responds by saying this is racist, because if Carter were not half-Asian, we would instead call him reckless, adventurous, and strong.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Gobble this up
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Our Thanksgiving was rather mellow. We ordered our "feast" from Marie Callenders, and I would definitely recommend the experience to others. It's just much easier. And what I mean by the last statement, is that it seems much easier, because I really have no idea what it would be like to cook on Thanksgiving. I, like all great American men, like to spend this day giving thanks for football and misogyny. But I did feel much less repressed shame doing nothing - knowing that Mindy was doing less. So that was nice. And of course I did get up off my ass to swoop in for my 10 minutes of glory dissecting an animal. And this turkey carving experience was fantastic. Turns out, we had actually only purchased a turkey breast. I had no idea this was the case when we brought the food home, because the thing easily weighed five pounds. Which really got me thinking that it was a shame that I never got to see this turkey intact. She sounds spectacular. But carving up a turkey breast with no bones really simplifies the procedure. I decided to whittle the meet into replicas of the Nina, Pinta, and Santa Maria to everybody's delight. Ok, that didn't happen. But I wanted it to.
Mindy's parents brought over a photo album commemorating the life of Mindy. It was really fun to see all the pictures of lil' Mindy. Do you remember a few posts ago when I mentioned that Cameron and Carter looked almost identical as babies? Well, I think we figured out where they get that from. It was uncanny how much baby Mindy looked like Carter. Whatever baby gene Mindy's family has passed down is really, really strong. It doesn't know the bounds of gender. It tramples over whatever weak little Caucasian genes you throw in there. It just dominates. Mindy and I have been meaning to introduce a game where we put up pictures of Cam and Carter at around the same age and challenge y'all to pick out the correct Graves' son. But I think we might need to add one more baby option to this game-show. Now the only thing left to do is to come up with a catchy title for this segment. "Name that Asian" feels it possibly may be offensive. "I know that baby, maybe...?" has a decent ring to it, but I don't want to settle. Feel free to post some ideas in the comment section.
During the Thanksgiving meal, Mindy had a fantastic idea. She asked the table if they would like to share "their biggest regret of the year" along with what they are most thankful for. Because Mindy didn't have to do much cooking this year, I think she subconsciously decided to create a "recipe" for how to create holiday drama. Bringing together relatives into forced intimacy and then springing on them deep questions about things they regret seems like a pretty awesome concoction. It all worked out fine in this situation, because nobody was dumb enough to answer the question with any honesty. But I recommend you try it at home.
Speaking of honest feedback, I think it's about time for Cam to experience some more criticism in his life. He has just gotten way too much praise. Yesterday morning when we were discussing our plans to hang Christmas lights, he asked me "why am I such a good helper?" I said, "Because you're good at figuring stuff out and are fun to hang out with." He said, "And I'm always cute." Too which I laughed and said, "Yes, and very humble." But he didn't get my sarcasm, he just noticed my amusement, nodded with a smirk of self-appreciation and added, "Yes, and I'm also funny." Couple interactions like this with the fact that earlier this week he tried to charge me admission to come cuddle with him at bed time, and I'm thinking we definitely need to knock this little dude down a few pegs. Time to replace nightly affirmation hour with a little "Daddy is playing for real" time. That and a verbal sprinkling of reality that cuts to his little core should do the trick. Don't worry, I learned all of this in graduate school. I'm a professional.
That's all for today. Here are some things to look forward to in future blogs. Carter is in his "strangers aren't sure what gender I am" phase, which has supplied some pretty good moments. Cameron is about to play on his first soccer "team" and it is going to be coached by a good friend. If this situation doesn't provide bloggable moments and opportunities to terrorize my friend, then I don't know what will. And Reilly continues to descend deeper into his postpartum depression. But if he can muster enough energy, he has hinted that he would like to make a return to the blog. We shall see.
Happy Holidays,
Father
Mindy's parents brought over a photo album commemorating the life of Mindy. It was really fun to see all the pictures of lil' Mindy. Do you remember a few posts ago when I mentioned that Cameron and Carter looked almost identical as babies? Well, I think we figured out where they get that from. It was uncanny how much baby Mindy looked like Carter. Whatever baby gene Mindy's family has passed down is really, really strong. It doesn't know the bounds of gender. It tramples over whatever weak little Caucasian genes you throw in there. It just dominates. Mindy and I have been meaning to introduce a game where we put up pictures of Cam and Carter at around the same age and challenge y'all to pick out the correct Graves' son. But I think we might need to add one more baby option to this game-show. Now the only thing left to do is to come up with a catchy title for this segment. "Name that Asian" feels it possibly may be offensive. "I know that baby, maybe...?" has a decent ring to it, but I don't want to settle. Feel free to post some ideas in the comment section.
During the Thanksgiving meal, Mindy had a fantastic idea. She asked the table if they would like to share "their biggest regret of the year" along with what they are most thankful for. Because Mindy didn't have to do much cooking this year, I think she subconsciously decided to create a "recipe" for how to create holiday drama. Bringing together relatives into forced intimacy and then springing on them deep questions about things they regret seems like a pretty awesome concoction. It all worked out fine in this situation, because nobody was dumb enough to answer the question with any honesty. But I recommend you try it at home.
Speaking of honest feedback, I think it's about time for Cam to experience some more criticism in his life. He has just gotten way too much praise. Yesterday morning when we were discussing our plans to hang Christmas lights, he asked me "why am I such a good helper?" I said, "Because you're good at figuring stuff out and are fun to hang out with." He said, "And I'm always cute." Too which I laughed and said, "Yes, and very humble." But he didn't get my sarcasm, he just noticed my amusement, nodded with a smirk of self-appreciation and added, "Yes, and I'm also funny." Couple interactions like this with the fact that earlier this week he tried to charge me admission to come cuddle with him at bed time, and I'm thinking we definitely need to knock this little dude down a few pegs. Time to replace nightly affirmation hour with a little "Daddy is playing for real" time. That and a verbal sprinkling of reality that cuts to his little core should do the trick. Don't worry, I learned all of this in graduate school. I'm a professional.
That's all for today. Here are some things to look forward to in future blogs. Carter is in his "strangers aren't sure what gender I am" phase, which has supplied some pretty good moments. Cameron is about to play on his first soccer "team" and it is going to be coached by a good friend. If this situation doesn't provide bloggable moments and opportunities to terrorize my friend, then I don't know what will. And Reilly continues to descend deeper into his postpartum depression. But if he can muster enough energy, he has hinted that he would like to make a return to the blog. We shall see.
Happy Holidays,
Father
Saturday, November 23, 2013
Domesticate Ya
Mindy made some pumpkin flavored pop tarts for a Fall get-together this past week. They were quite tasty. Cam is not so sure. Consider this exchange: Cam bites into a pop tart and a look of sheer disgust spreads across his face. Mindy says "Cam, you don't have to eat that if you don't like it." Cam munches on, but appears as though he is consuming something closer to raw sewage than a pastry. Cam looks up at Mindy and sheepishly says, "It's good. I just like to take small bites." Verrrrrrryyyyyy tactful son. Well played.
Cam likes to roll around everywhere he can on his scooter. Not too long ago Mindy and I were sitting on the couch after putting Cam down for bed. We hear his bedroom door open and Cam rolls out on his scooter to get some water. He then rolled back to the bedroom without a word. His scooting can be quite unnerving. It often has the feel of Gob on his Segway in Arrested Development.
Speaking of being on the couch after Cam was put to bed, Mindy and I recently got busted engaging in some inappropriate behavior. Let's just say it involved the two of us, some sucking, and... Cam's Halloween candy. Mindy and I were sent scurrying like teenagers when the bedroom door unexpectedly opens. It was an eye opening moment to realize how much I fear my son. And this was probably the greatest act of treachery that we could have committed. Cam treasured his Halloween candy with Smeagol-like intensity. When he got home from trick-or-treating he dumped all of it out in the middle of the living room. For days after, he would come up to Mindy and I and ask us if we would like to join him in "looking at his candy." And then he would just sit and admire it. He was very proud of himself for "earning" all those sweets and often opined about how "hard" he "worked" on Halloween. I think we might have sparked a less furious reaction if we had taken his lifelong "blankie" and fashioned it into a diaper for Carter. Let's just say it was a night of great violence in the Graves house. I emerged relatively unscathed, mostly because I was able to utilize Mindy as a human shield.
Cameron is in the heart of the "why" faze. Truly, he's been in this phase for over a year. But the intensity of it has really ramped up of late. What his questioning has really made me realize is how little I know about anything. By the end of each of these exchanges we've reached a point where it becomes difficult to muster a coherent answer. I've asked repeatedly for phone a friend privileges, but that just leads to him asking me why, and me having to explain the reasons behind my idiocy until I need help again. It's not a self-esteem boosting exchange. So, I've taken to completely making things up. Why is it cold today? The sun is tired. Why? Because he stayed up really late playing Minion Rush and used up his solar energy to keep the I-Pad charged? Why? Because the sun often has insomnia. Why? Because of discomfort from his irritable bowel. And on we go. It donned on me lately the true reason why people often become more religious when they have children. Claiming the work of a higher power is really the only way to stand up to this line of questioning and save face. But I see that as a cop out. I'm going to make shit up instead. It's way more fun.
See you next week,
Father
Cam likes to roll around everywhere he can on his scooter. Not too long ago Mindy and I were sitting on the couch after putting Cam down for bed. We hear his bedroom door open and Cam rolls out on his scooter to get some water. He then rolled back to the bedroom without a word. His scooting can be quite unnerving. It often has the feel of Gob on his Segway in Arrested Development.
Speaking of being on the couch after Cam was put to bed, Mindy and I recently got busted engaging in some inappropriate behavior. Let's just say it involved the two of us, some sucking, and... Cam's Halloween candy. Mindy and I were sent scurrying like teenagers when the bedroom door unexpectedly opens. It was an eye opening moment to realize how much I fear my son. And this was probably the greatest act of treachery that we could have committed. Cam treasured his Halloween candy with Smeagol-like intensity. When he got home from trick-or-treating he dumped all of it out in the middle of the living room. For days after, he would come up to Mindy and I and ask us if we would like to join him in "looking at his candy." And then he would just sit and admire it. He was very proud of himself for "earning" all those sweets and often opined about how "hard" he "worked" on Halloween. I think we might have sparked a less furious reaction if we had taken his lifelong "blankie" and fashioned it into a diaper for Carter. Let's just say it was a night of great violence in the Graves house. I emerged relatively unscathed, mostly because I was able to utilize Mindy as a human shield.
Cameron is in the heart of the "why" faze. Truly, he's been in this phase for over a year. But the intensity of it has really ramped up of late. What his questioning has really made me realize is how little I know about anything. By the end of each of these exchanges we've reached a point where it becomes difficult to muster a coherent answer. I've asked repeatedly for phone a friend privileges, but that just leads to him asking me why, and me having to explain the reasons behind my idiocy until I need help again. It's not a self-esteem boosting exchange. So, I've taken to completely making things up. Why is it cold today? The sun is tired. Why? Because he stayed up really late playing Minion Rush and used up his solar energy to keep the I-Pad charged? Why? Because the sun often has insomnia. Why? Because of discomfort from his irritable bowel. And on we go. It donned on me lately the true reason why people often become more religious when they have children. Claiming the work of a higher power is really the only way to stand up to this line of questioning and save face. But I see that as a cop out. I'm going to make shit up instead. It's way more fun.
See you next week,
Father
Friday, November 15, 2013
This is what's up
The following sentiments are truth. Do not interpret as figurative or sarcastic. Read, accept, move on with your day.
Papa
- My freezer looks like an episode of "Hoarders: The Breast Milk Edition"
- When you are the son of a psychologist you quickly learn many ways to express anger toward your parents. Consider the following interaction between Cam and I on Halloween after we were briefly separated in a crowded cat tunnel (don't ask). Cam: "I'm mad at you because I couldn't see you." Me: "Sorry about that." Cam: "I'm really angry." Me: "I hear you." Approximately 30 second pause. Cam: "I'm serious." Approximately 30 second pause Cam: "I'm still cross." And with that it was clear that we needed to cut down his Thomas consumption and stifle his emotional expression. So I responded in a way I knew he could grasp. Me: "Stop being cheeky or I'll take you back to that tunnel and wall you in like Henry. Now be a useful little engine and give me a Snickers." You might not have any idea what some of that meant, but preschoolers all over the world would be shuttering in fear.
- Speaking of Halloween, there was much debate about what Cam wanted to be. Mindy asked him daily for a 2 month period, so as it neared we had quite a few options. At one point, he wanted the family to go in a construction theme. He said that he wanted to be an excavator. He told Carter he was going to be a bulldozer. He told Mindy she was going to be a steamroller. And he told me I was going to be a pumpkin. My son is already a master of social aggression. A few days before Halloween, Cam had it narrowed down to a couple of things. He either wanted to be a Chick-Filet worker or a princess. Just to clarify, he either wanted to go as a cross-dresser or a homophobic fast food worker. I wanted him to go as both to make a political statement.
- Mindy seems to be enjoying her new gig. She has infiltrated the ranks of multiple Mom's groups. There seems to be a lot of walking, eating, gossiping, and organizing. I'm not sure what the kids do - but fun appears to be had by all.
- Carter smiles at just about anything. He can sit up by himself, but he's not quite mobile yet. Those of us in the parents biz call this stage "perfection."
- Cameron is in a very competitive stage. I hear you grow out of this stage in your 40s. I, like all intelligent parents before me, use his internal drive as a means of manipulating him into doing what I want. "I'll race you to the car," "first one to the bedroom wins," "I bet you can't sit quietly while I concentrate on my fantasy football lineup"... these are just a few of the motivational tactics I like to employ. But I'll tell you, I haven't experienced this much losing in my life since Hope basketball.
- Cam, Mindy, and I are super into these "endless running" aps. We started with Ninja Quest and moved onto Minion Rush. We help Cam learn the skill of waiting his "turn" by making him watch us dodge obstacles and collect tokens. Again, a good time is had by all. And Cam is remarkably skilled at these games. Forget sports and reading, I'm thinking professional gamer is his calling. Now is the time to focus our collective efforts.
- Cam just returned from an outing with a Mom's group. He interrupted my blogging to announce that while he was there he enjoyed "watching a little girl pee." And with that, I think I should wrap this up and do a little parenting. This is what happens when you allow trains, ninjas, and minions to raise your children.
Papa
Friday, May 10, 2013
Number 2
And this is the way of second borns. Baby 1 got a blog specifically created for it 7 months before it even existed. Live streaming updates from the birth itself. Editorials on his facial expressions, feeding schedule, and bowel movements. Over 250 posts chronicling the minutia of his development. Baby 2? I think I can pretty much sum up what happened in a couple of paragraphs.
We went to a hospital a couple of weeks ago where Mindy doped herself up, chatted with a nurse about reality television, and sneezed out a 8 pound, 7 ounce alien. Upon arrival there was a moment of confusion when the baby was African American. But it turned out that the young one had quite a bit of facial bruising from Mindy spiking her pelvic bone into his face during descent. We named the entity Carter Edward Graves and moved to the next hospital room. Hospital employees frequently commented on how strong he was. Then he had his penis maimed.
Apparently Mindy and I only make one baby prototype. I mean, he looks a little different from Cameron did, but it's pretty much just an updated version of one model. We also only produce children with early Jaundice, so Carter got to spend a few days under the tanning booth. About two days after birth, I'm happy to announce, the milk arrived. There was no nipple confusion (which I like to imagine as a baby vision where he is surrounded by a maze of nipples into which he keeps colliding with no escape). He seems to have mastered eating, judging by how fat he is getting. He also is relatively chill, other than the frequent zombie straining noises he makes while pushing gas and shit from his body.
Personally, I rarely interact with the new one. Sometimes he's crying while Mindy is in another room and I'll pick him up and carry him back to his owner. But that's about it. Me and Cam get to spend even more time together now and have formally made a power alliance. Nobody is sure where Reilly ever is. The battle for household domination is clearly afoot.
In all seriousness though, Carter is a healthy little boy. Cam is adjusting fairly well to being a big brother. He's been really sweet and gentle with Carter so far. And I've invented a symbolic newborn advent calendar - where basically I eat a lot of candy, drink a lot of beer, and count the days until a hint of normal life returns. Note to potential father's out there: if someone tries to sell you on father hood by minimizing the trauma of the newborn period you should punch them in the face. These are dark days that you push through. That is all.
Thanks to everyone for their well wishes and support. Special shot out to Mindy's Dad and my Mom for all of there help while we were still in the hospital and settling in at home. You made our lives soooo much easier and I am very thankful!
And that about sums it up. I'll be back around Carter's high school graduation to fill y'all in on how he turned out. I have high hopes for this one. I hear he's really strong!
Father
We went to a hospital a couple of weeks ago where Mindy doped herself up, chatted with a nurse about reality television, and sneezed out a 8 pound, 7 ounce alien. Upon arrival there was a moment of confusion when the baby was African American. But it turned out that the young one had quite a bit of facial bruising from Mindy spiking her pelvic bone into his face during descent. We named the entity Carter Edward Graves and moved to the next hospital room. Hospital employees frequently commented on how strong he was. Then he had his penis maimed.
Apparently Mindy and I only make one baby prototype. I mean, he looks a little different from Cameron did, but it's pretty much just an updated version of one model. We also only produce children with early Jaundice, so Carter got to spend a few days under the tanning booth. About two days after birth, I'm happy to announce, the milk arrived. There was no nipple confusion (which I like to imagine as a baby vision where he is surrounded by a maze of nipples into which he keeps colliding with no escape). He seems to have mastered eating, judging by how fat he is getting. He also is relatively chill, other than the frequent zombie straining noises he makes while pushing gas and shit from his body.
Personally, I rarely interact with the new one. Sometimes he's crying while Mindy is in another room and I'll pick him up and carry him back to his owner. But that's about it. Me and Cam get to spend even more time together now and have formally made a power alliance. Nobody is sure where Reilly ever is. The battle for household domination is clearly afoot.
In all seriousness though, Carter is a healthy little boy. Cam is adjusting fairly well to being a big brother. He's been really sweet and gentle with Carter so far. And I've invented a symbolic newborn advent calendar - where basically I eat a lot of candy, drink a lot of beer, and count the days until a hint of normal life returns. Note to potential father's out there: if someone tries to sell you on father hood by minimizing the trauma of the newborn period you should punch them in the face. These are dark days that you push through. That is all.
Thanks to everyone for their well wishes and support. Special shot out to Mindy's Dad and my Mom for all of there help while we were still in the hospital and settling in at home. You made our lives soooo much easier and I am very thankful!
And that about sums it up. I'll be back around Carter's high school graduation to fill y'all in on how he turned out. I have high hopes for this one. I hear he's really strong!
Father
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