A Note From Teacher

Today we got a nice note from Cameron's daycare teacher that I wanted to share with the blogosphere:

"I am so thankful for Cameron! He is honestly never any trouble at all. He is always so nice to all of his friends and he is a lot of fun - everybody loves him. :) He's always eager to help me or the other kids with anything and he's already a great thinker and problem-solver. Thank you so much for being a part of our class!" - Miss Lynae

One. Proud. Mama.

School Pics

October 31 wasn't just Halloween for Cameron...it was also school picture day! While I think it's hilarious that an 18 to 24-month old class has school picture day, I also appreciate the person who thought of this. Anyways, we had no idea it was school picture day. Normally, I would have dressed Cameron in a cute little outfit, but instead, I had asked Mike to dress him up in a Halloween-appropriate shirt with bats all over it. Regardless, the little man looks adorable. I thought I would share the four different poses we have to choose from:

I especially love Pose 4. His expression is so hilarious! Every time I look at that picture, I laugh out loud. I love how his little hands are carefully positioned on his knees. This is what I imagine is going through his head:

Pose 1: Okay, I'll smile once. This isn't too bad.

Pose 2: (gritting teeth with half-smile) Hmm, how much longer do I have to sit on this stupid stump?!?

Pose 3: Now I'm pissed.

Pose 4: Oh, I see that cougar from the five-year-old class. (puts on Mr. Suave face) Hey cutie, come on over here. I may be almost two, but it's a very mature two.

The blue bat shirt is alright. Mike was going through a phase where he would try to shock me with Cameron's extreme mismatched outfits when I picked him up from daycare, so at least it wasn't school picture day on this day:

Keeping It Clean on Halloween

This year, we debated for quite a while what Cameron would be for Halloween. We knew from our experiences at the Children's Museum in Seattle this summer that Cam would not enjoy being a postal worker - I mean, we all know first hand that postal workers don't enjoy being postal workers!


He seemed to like being a fireman though. And in my humble opinion, he's good looking enough to be a fireman (inside joke for Mike's mom).

However, it just didn't seem right to dress him up in a random costume. We wanted to find something that was meaningful to him. A couple of weeks ago, Mike had this great epiphany: Cameron loves picking up trash and throwing it away, so he should be a garbage man for Halloween! I went on a hunt to find a mini-sized trash can that looks like the trash can that gets picked up every week, and let me tell you, this was harder than I thought it would be. While shopping for a basketball hoop at a sporting goods store, I found a small green cooler with wheels and a handle. When I showed it to Mike, he said, "Oh, a cooler." And when Cameron saw it, he immediately said, "Trash." So it was a winner!

I was also able to complete the garbage man look by finding a safety vest in the hunting section at the sporting goods store. (Why young children are hunting is an entirely separate discussion and blog post.) I printed off the Waste Management logo and pinned it all over the vest and trash can, and voila - we had ourselves our very own garbage man!

Cameron LOVED pulling around his own-sized trash can...until he found the real thing.

He seemed to enjoy walking around the neighborhood and ringing people's doorbells. When people told him he could pick out candy out of the bucket, he stared and studied all of his options. After careful examination, he would finally pick out a piece, and then if the candy-giver said he could have another one, the process repeated...and he would pick out the same exact kind of candy! He loved to put the candy in his trash can, and then he'd go back to the candy-giver and ask for more. At least he's not afraid to ask!

The little guy trick or treated around the neighborhood for about an hour and a half. Last year, we made it maybe half an hour and just went down our street. Unfortunately for him, he didn't partake in any of the candy, but fortunately for Mike and me, he got some good treats from the neighbors! And true to his profession for the night, he did pick up trash that he saw along the way and threw it in his trash can! Overall, it was a fun night. Special thanks to my dad, who tagged along and took pictures for us.

It's An Elmo's World For Us

Cameron LOVES him some Elmo. Consider the following examples:

• Cameron has started to categorize and label items as "Elmo" or "Not Elmo." If Elmo's not in the opening sketch of "Sesame Street" long enough for his liking, he will furiously shake his head and say, "Not Elmo, not Elmo, not Elmo!" Mike and I like to think these terms are synonymous with good versus bad, so we've started to give each other topics like gun control and the legalization of drugs and ask, "Elmo or Not Elmo?"
  


• Last week, we realized we had created a monster. Mike likes his Lucky Charms and he would occasionally give Cameron a few of the cereal pieces. That turned into a few of the marshmallows and before you knew it, we had a marshmallow addict on our hands. If you gave him a small bowl, he would only pick out the marshmallows to eat and then ask for more. Anyways, Cameron woke up angry one day last week, and he was insistent on eating marshmallows - and just marshmallows - for breakfast. When Mike refused to give him any, he threw a temper tantrum that involved throwing things across the kitchen and banging his head on the floor. The only thing that could console him was - you guessed it, Elmo. Mike turned on Elmo's World, and Cameron was able to talk himself down. Thank goodness for Elmo.
  


• Yesterday, we took our family portraits. I knew it would be more challenging to wrangle Cameron this year, so my dad came along to help. In order to get Cam to look in the general direction of the camera, my dad had to hold up my phone while it played an Elmo video. He did a really good job, and I can't wait to see how the pictures turned out.


• It was Wear Your PJs to School Day at daycare on Friday, so Cameron got to wear his Elmo jammies and slippers to school, which he LOVES. He looked fairly ridiculous but definitely very cute. All he needed to complete his head-to-toe Elmo look is a furry Elmo hat. I'm sure Heidi, Michael, and Nina would all agree that this look is too matchy-matchy and over-styled, but I think he looks monster fierce.

If you're not sure who Elmo is, I thought I'd include one of Cameron's favorite videos below so you could see why he is so beloved. There are over 8.25 million views, and I think the Graves household is responsible for at least 100 of them. (By the way, I noticed that there are 715 dislikes - who is feeling strongly enough about this video to dislike it?!?) Watch the very end for Adam Sandler's awkward and hilarious goodbye.

Guess Who's Back

We're baaaacckk! I'm not really sure why it's been so long since we've last blogged (almost four months to the day), but it's been a long time. I guess we unintentionally took a break, and then it seemed too daunting to have to catch up on everything, so I kept procrastinating until I had enough time to give a proper update. And here we are, four months later. But don't worry - I'm only going to start with recent happenings. I will also try to convince Mike to post something again.

As it is Halloween time, we did what every suburban parent does: we took Cameron to a pumpkin patch to take pictures. Of course, every parent at this particular pumpkin patch had a camera, and I even saw one dad with a two-foot telescopic lens...and his kid was less than three feet from him. Not an exaggeration. I'm sure you could see every pore in that extreme close-up. Anyways, we met up with the Hoards, and we valiantly tried to get Kevin and Cameron to take a picture together. We found out it was extremely challenging to get them to be in the same place at the same time, let alone sitting and looking at the camera at the same time! In the end, all it took was either: A) snacks or B) sunglasses to get them to willingly cooperate. Here are two of my favorite pics from our photo shoot:

In other news, we realized that the big chunk of money that goes to daycare every month is not for nought. A few weeks ago, Cameron was standing on a chair, so I told him I was going to take it away if he was still standing on it by the time I counted to three. I counted to three and he sat down at the last minute of course, but as I turned away, I heard him quietly say, "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6..." I had no idea he could count!?! We've been counting a lot since then, and it usually goes something like this, "4, 5, 6...4, 5, 6...4, 5, 6, seben, 8, 9, DEN! YAY!" with profuse hand clapping.

In another aha! moment, Cameron and I went grocery shopping this weekend. I told him we had to go get some bottled water for Daddy, and he looked up at me, and said, "Agua." Amazing. I had no idea our child is bilingual!

Finally, in closing, I thought I would share a humorous story that happened at Soccer Tots this weekend. There was an Asian couple there with their son. Mike and I watched as Cameron came running up to the Asian mom, stopped when he got to her legs and started to hold his arms up to her, but then he looked up and saw it wasn't me. He gave her a half-smile and stood next to her for a second, and then came running over to me with a sheepish smile on his face, like he was a little embarrassed. It was hilarious. I guess he thinks we all look the same?!? Mike said he should have marked my arm (reference from Michael Scott on "The Office")!

P.S. For those of you who care, I promise we will do a better job about blogging in the future.

Two Months - One Post

Forgive me readers for I have puttered out. It's been almost two months since I last blogged. I like to imagine our faithful readers getting up each morning, sitting down in front of the computer with a cup of coffee and a faint hope that maybe this will be the day that the Graves have returned to ignite their hearts and enthrall their minds with sarcastic tales of mundane events. That is why I participate in this blog: to amuse you and mock my family. Nothing else.

Anyway, a lot has occurred since we last blogged. So I'm not exactly sure where to begin. Cameron no longer hates day care. He doesn't exactly run into the classroom in the morning (it's more of a drowsy waddle), but he no longer cries when I leave. I think he's just given up on the fact that I care about him enough to rescue him from that evil place. He's just resigned to the fact that life sucks and his parents will abandon him three times a week. So that's been an improvement.

Cameron has turned into the most inquisitive mute I've ever met. Every word and sound is posed in the form of a question. And a very high pitch question at that. I want everyone out there to find the "high c" note in their head. I now want you to say the word "Dis" or "Dat" in that high c. As you near the end of the word, quickly switch to a high f. Congratulations - you now speak like my son. And he says this all the time. He wakes up in the morning, stands up in his crib, points aimlessly out into the room and says "dis?" Let me tell you, it's a hard question to answer. In all seriousness though, he is starting to develop some new words. I no longer think he will be as speech delayed as I was. So that's also nice.

Switching gears: Cameron loves him some music. It's kind of crazy how captivated he is by it. We go to a pool party in our neighborhood - he spends the entire day working his way from wherever we put him back to the stage where the local band is performing. Then he dances and signs for more. I took him to a sing along show at the library this week. Cameron stood with his hands in the air and danced almost the entire time. He slapped thunder sticks together like he was counting down to start a rock concert. At breaks, he clapped fervently and pleaded for more. It was crazy. While the crowd cleared out at the end of the show, the performers two kids (approximately aged 10 and 12) treated us all to a swanky jazz duet. I found this portion of the show extremely creepy. Just imagine child siblings dressed in formal wear singing love songs to each other, while machines shoot bubbles over the crowd, and the daughter mixes in some cartwheels. Somewhere that trucker guy from Little Miss Sunshine is standing up and cheering. But my son did not see the creepiness in this performance. He again made his way to the stage, raised his hands, and exalted the majesty that is child pageantry. I sometimes question the boy's taste. But then again, sometimes he has exquisite taste. For instance, he LOVES to see me perform the classics on guitar hero. In fact, right after his onslaught of questions this morning, he sprinted to the living room and dragged me the "guitar." And then I put on a show for him!! Whenever I finish a set and the digital crowd is going wild - Cameron will join in and run to the T.V. with a squeal of delight. It's a very symbiotic relationship we have right now. We're both in a really good place with me playing video games for hours. What can I say? Sometimes life has a way of working out.

I know this blog has already contained a lot of useless information, but I feel like I'm just getting started. We recently took a trip West. We visited Southern California for a while, then headed up to Seattle with some some friends for a long weekend. Cameron was sick(Strep throat) for the first few days of the trip - so that was pretty rough. But then his immune system prevailed and fun was had by all. I got to demonstrate extremely diminished skills in Rec League basketball game that featured 4/5 players from our high school starting line-up. My cousin's and I spent hours trying to accrue as many star coins as possible on super Mario brothers. Mindy and I put on a spades clinic for my parents. We got a night away from the little man - and were treated to an evening of gourmet meals, wine, and merriment with friends. My family conducted an intense So You Think You Can Dance Fantasy Draft (Go Sasha). And we took some family pictures (although Cam was still sick and was fairly inconsolable the majority of the time). Overall, So-Cal was great.

Seattle was also great. The friends we were "Summering in Seattle" with have a daughter about a month older than Cam. This young lady (June) was the friendliest person I have ever met. When she sees you she says "hi." You walk out of the room and come back, you're getting another "hi." It was awesome. Many of you don't know this but I was voted friendliest or "most likely to say hi" in high school. But hanging around June made me realize just how many opportunities to greet others I miss. Cam really picked up on it too. Boarding the plane to leave Seattle he said hi to pretty much every passenger he passed. I think that June really had a positive influence on him. The adults also had a great time cruising Seattle in a mini-van, drinking heavily after the kids were asleep (note: Red Hook sucks!), and learning a fair amount of paper airplane/Frisbee technique. Until Monte Carlo my friends!

Cam also got a little gangster up in Seattle. Let's just say that he got into his first rumble where he didn't just retreat and look at the other person like they were defecating on his blankie and he was helpless to stop it. Let me preface this story by acknowledging that Cam is a man of very diverse tastes. For instance, he really enjoys coughing noises, African American literature, the beats of Destiny's Child, sirens, burrowing himself, and tropical fish. So while we're visiting the children's museum in Seattle, naturally Cam is delighted to discover a fish aquarium. He sprints up to the aquarium and puts his hands on the glass. Well, the young man next to him was not enamored with the munchkins glee (or probably his existence in general). He reached over a pulled Cam's hands off the glass. Well, for the first time young Cam stood up for himself. He grabbed the brute's shirt, pulled it over his head, and proceeded to ground and pound him. Well, that might be a slight exaggeration. But he did stand his ground and pushed the kid off of him. I have never been so proud :) If you want another good story, ask me about the brawl between brothers that occurred later in the museum. Good times!

Okay, I'm running out of steam. I'm aware that this was probably a very meandering, self-indulgent posting. And I don't care. It's your fault for reading it!

The Real Vamps of Leander

Forget fictional vampires like Edward Cullen, I know where the real vampires lurk in our neighborhood: our local daycares. Yes, it's true, Cameron suffered his first biting attack from another child at daycare yesterday, although when the director called, she affectionately referred to it as a "love bite." Apparently, Cameron's teacher was busy preparing lunch when the other child bit him on the forearm, so the teacher's not sure if the attack was provoked or not. I was: A) doubtful that Cameron provoked the attack, B) relieved to hear the little vamp's bite didn't break the skin, and C) surprised at how small the teeth mark was on Cam's arm. Anyways, he cried for a minute and then wanted to eat lunch, so I guess he wasn't traumatized!

I also deduced it must be policy not to reveal the identity, or even the gender, of the biter. Both when the director called and in the formal incident report they gave me, all that was mentioned was "the other child." The director assured me that "the other child's" parents would be notified that he/she bit another child and that they would monitor behavior to see if there is a repeat pattern between "the other child" and Cameron. Little vamp.

I know I'm biased, but I think Cameron is such a sweet little boy, and it makes me a little sad to think he's going to start learning bad behavior like biting. I just hope I don't get a phone call soon, saying that Cameron is the biting offender.

Last night, it only felt apropros to read "The Tooth Book" by Dr. Seuss for Cameron's bedtime story. Mike, his ever-witty self, spontaneously added a final verse to the book, "And when you're not tough enough to make a fist, a mean kid will bite you on the wrist." Another teachable moment by Dr. Graves.

Daycare Update

This week marks Cameron's third week in part-time daycare. He's still adjusting, but I think he's slowly getting used to it. When I pick him up in the afternoon, he seems pretty happy, although he also seems very relieved to see me. Mike, on the other hand, may be the one who's having the most difficult adjustment. He tells me every day he hates dropping him off, because he can't stand Cameron's screaming when he leaves. He hates being the bad cop, while I get to be the good cop. What can I say? I guess I'm the Phil Dunphy in this relationship. :)

Last week, Cameron's teacher gave us an update, which I thought I'd share with you:

"Cameron is getting much more comfortable exploring the classroom (without his blanket!) and interacting with the other children on his own. We had a messy lunch today, but he loved the sloppy joes. :) He enjoyed reading books, playing with the animals with some of the other boys, and is very interested in all of the toys on the manipulatives shelf. Just a few pictures to show how he's doing - I know drop-off can be tough, but we're making lots of progress and seeing more smiles every day. He's a really sweet boy, and we're so glad to have him. :)"

Funny side note: this was Mike's initial response to reading the report, "This picture makes it look like we're sending our child to a nudist daycare."

He Survived

Cameron started daycare today. Things haven't been boding well for this day - when we've taken him to the child care at church or gym recently, the workers have had to come find us because he's crying. In fact, it was seeming like 45 minutes is about his threshhold of tolerance for strangers, so 5-6 hours at daycare seemed daunting. Needless to say, we were a little wary about what today would be like. It was a little tenuous, but he survived.

Mike dropped him off around 11:00 AM this morning. When he left, he said Cameron started screaming immediately. This made Mike feel very sad. On the contrary, I get the fun job of picking him up, so I arrived at the daycare around 4:15 PM. As soon as I opened his classroom door, I heard him crying. And it was that hoarse crying, so I knew he'd cried and cried and cried today. The teacher said he had just started crying right before I arrived because he saw other parents pick up their kids. She said he cried off and on the entire day. When he wasn't crying, he explored a little and also tried to steal other kids' animal crackers at snack time. (Our kid is THAT kid!) The teacher gave me a daily report, and on the section that said, "Today, I seemed to be...(fill in the blank)", she wrote, "Happy!" Does this look like the face of a happy child to you?!?


When we got home, things went from bad to worse for the poor kiddo: not only did he fall off our bed and land awkwardly on his neck, but he also dove face first into one of his plastic cars. All in all, a rough day! Now he gets one day to recuperate tomorrow before heading back to daycare on Wednesday...

The Uperman Legacy Continues

When Mike was a little boy, he loved Superman. Except he couldn't say his s's, so it was really Uperman who was his hero. Here is a six-year-old Mike doing his best Clark Kent impression:


And twenty-five years later, the Superman, er Uperman, legacy continues with the next Graves male:

Here's Cam running through the kitchen faster than a speeding bullet:

Big shout out to Jack Schaber for the awesome hand-me-down!

Spring is in the air. Well really, judging from my allergies, Oak is in the air. Nevertheless, isn't it a great time of year? The weather is nice. The seasonal holiday candy is perhaps at it's peak (if candy hearts were available there would be no contest here). The NBA playoffs are in full bloom and Phil Jackson is pontificating about rebirth. Hope springs eternal. That was before we went to an Easter egg hunt yesterday!

Let's back up a few steps though. Mindy has been super excited about the Easter festivities this weekend. Cam has an Easter ensemble that was purchased over 2 months ago.

She has written out an itinerary that includes a local Easter egg hunt, church service, and Sunday brunch. Then earlier in the week she discovers that there are multiple Easter egg hunts planned in our area. This leads to the decision that she wants to hop from one Easter egg hunt to the next over the course of our Saturday (a plan she affectionately refers to as the "bunny hop", sharing her joke with everyone she talks to and awkwardly pausing for anticipated laughter). Anyway, the first leg of the "bunny hop" is scheduled for 10:15. As per usual, we are running late and arrive at the park just as things are supposed to get started. Allow me to describe the events.

We walk across the park toward a mass of people surrounding multiple roped off areas. Suddenly an air horn goes off like a siren, followed by intense screaming and little bodies flying everywhere. It was kind of horrifying. I have to think that any WWII veteran in attendance was on the ground in the fetal position at this point. Mindy rushed off with Cam into this mass of humanity to "hunt" for eggs. (Side note: Why do they call this egg "hunting." It seems like there is very little gamesmanship involved in this pastime. In fact, it seems much more like a job for the Hunter's sissy counterpart: the Gatherer. From now on it's called Egg-Gathering in my book. Either that or litter removal). Anyway, Cam has no idea what is going on. But Mindy successfully blocks out a few children and collects some chocolate "treats" that nobody is going to eat. Mission accomplished.

But the fun is not even close to over. Guess who is going to be at the park this afternoon. That's right - the Easter bunny. The excitement in the air is palpable. The length of the line is awe-inspiring. There was no doubt in my mind that there was a major let down waiting for us at the end of this line. When we got there the bunny-man looked, well, defeated. It's really sad to see a large person trapped inside a stuffed animal sitting alone in a lawn chair. Even more depressing was the sight of his high-top Nike's poking out from beneath his furry ankles. Although I do have to say that the idea the Easter Bunny was ready to play some hoop got me fired up. But then the thought of the Easter bunny crossing me over and raining jumpers over me with his soft paws made me think maybe that match-up is really just a no win situation.

But, we thought we'd give Cam a chance to make up his own mind about the Easter bunny. We walked up to the human-rabbit with little fan-fare and gently handed over our son. It took Cam about 2 seconds to realize that this was in no way okay. He began crying and violently trying to free himself from the disturbing creature's clutches. As a psychologist, I deem this a rational response. I quickly walked up to retrieve my son and that's when it happened: the Easter bunny spoke to me. For those of you who are curious, the Easter bunny's voice is deep and clearly has southern roots. In fact, he sounds a little bit like Billy Bob Thornton. And the Easter bunny is very wise. He speaks in proverbs. This is what he said: "Some day's you're popular. Some day's you're not." And that was all. I left that lawn chair a better man.

There was one other experience of note at the park. The organizers promoted it as a "petting zoo", but it was more like a portable prison of farm-animal torture. It consisted of an assortment of bunnies, chickens, and goats in a caged off area. From a distance this looked cute. When we got in there, again I found myself deeply saddened. What was so sad? Oh I don't know, maybe it was when I approached two bunnies and found them cuddling together, eyes closed, shaking in pure terror. Then I looked around me to see a bunny being picked up by his ears and a chicken who was about to have his head twisted off by a toddler. This must be the worst fate imaginable for a non-violent animal. In all honesty, maybe these animals should seriously re-think there passive ways. It might be time to just bite somebody and get their "tour" over with. Cam enjoyed torturing the animals though, so that was nice.

Well we didn't actually do the "bunny hop" this Saturday. We hung around talking with friends, while Cam explored trash cans and attempted to take every one's eggs (actually, this is a much more sporting game then the original gathering). We watched the lines die down and the shaved ice machine (no jokes about this - just delicious) depart. We watched the Easter bunny get led away like a blind person. Then to the total shock of the child onlookers, the Easter bunny removed his head, got in a Ford Taurus, and drove away. In Billy Bob Thornton's defense, I'm sure it was going to be a long day for him. We walked to the car with a clearly tuckered out Cam fighting to keep his eyes open. All and all, it was a really fun morning!

The Time Has Finally Come

It's official...Cameron starts daycare on Monday, May 2. Mike and I are actually looking forward to it - we think Cam is now old enough to really enjoy a change of environment and interacting with other kiddos his age. He is going to start out part-time, so he'll go on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. This will let Mike do some more work during the days and start the transition to scheduling clients earlier in the day, so hopefully he won't have to work until 9:00 PM anymore.

The pros and cons of daycare:

Pros:

• Cam will get a change of environment and get to consistently hang out with other kids his age.
• Cam will experience new things he might not otherwise at home with us.
• Cam will learn some social skills. I'm hoping this means he will watch what other kids eat and consequently start eating more table food.

Cons:

• My mom and dad are leaving to summer in Tennessee. :(
• We now have to pay for daycare.
• Daycare = germ fest.

Bottom line: we know Cam will like it. And I'm sure it will provide us with lots of material for this blog. :)

Cam's a Survivor

Cameron survived his first assassination attempt today. His would-be assassin? An unlikely party in the form of an 8-lb. toy poodle: my parents' precious pup, Lizzie. When Mike dropped off Cam at my parents' house this afternoon, Lizzie "greeted" him by jumping on his back, propelling him face first into the pointy part of the brick porch.

Mike witnessed it all, and this is how he described it to me: There's no doubt in my mind this was an intentional act. I saw it happen in slow motion. Lizzie ran up to Cameron, deliberately looked at the bricks, and then jumped up on Cam. I saw how her front legs were bent at first and how she extended them with full force once she made contact with Cam's back. This was followed by a twirling scissors kick and a gleam in her beady little eye.

Apparently, there was another incident later in the day. Somehow Cameron pinched his fingers in a drawer in the kitchen island. I'm convinced Lizzie was the mastermind behind that one too. I'm wondering if Lizzie was avenging Reilly for the attack on his life last 4th of July?

Here is Cameron's war wound. At least now he has street cred in his library class.

13-Month Skill Inventory

Mike and I can't believe how much Cameron has learned in the last month. A quick inventory of things he can now do:

• Walk! He started walking a little over two weeks ago, and he's steadily improved every day since then. He now walks almost everywhere, and crawls very little. He doesn't hold his hands over his head anymore, but he still holds them up while he waddles around.
• He's starting to sign more. His latest signs are for "bath" and "milk." The "bath" sign is really cute, because he rubs his belly with both hands.
• It's amazing how much he understands. You can tell him to close the door, turn off the light, go to the car, go to his changing table, and he knows exactly what you're saying. Yesterday my dad told him it was nap time, and he got up and walked to his crib.
• He's learned to throw. The other night, he threw a ball at close range and it hit me right in my forehead. We're going to work on accuracy next...or maybe he's precocious and I was an intentional target?
• He's learning to golf. He knows to use the little golf club to hit the golf ball. Seriously. Maybe we have the next Tiger Woods on our hands...hopefully minus the sex addiction?
• He's really starting to mimic the sounds around him. Recently I've heard him make siren-like noises several times.
• He's finally starting to eat more table foods! He's still picky about food that's too soft (i.e. fruit), but now he will at least eat sandwiches, quesadillas, and tacquitos.
• He knows to pet Reilly very gently. When Reilly's lying on the ground, Cameron walks up to him, squats down, and puts both hands very softly onto Reilly's side. He pets him a couple times, which lulls Reilly into a false sense of security because he usually works into harder pats and sometimes tail-pulling. Then Reilly gets indignant and jumps on the couch.
• He's become very cuddly...which makes this mama very happy. :)

Mommies Group on Blast, Part Deux

In Mike's previous post, he ranted about the invitation, and subsequent disinvitation, from the mommies group in our neighborhood. Since I am still eligible for the group and because another mom had sponsored/recommended me, I thought I would take a look at it to see what kinds of things they do.

First of all, when I went to view the group's page on Meetup, it was a private page, and due to overwhelming demand, they had closed the group to new members. Fine, I can understand their desire to protect their kids' privacy, but I did think it's weird that they refer to themselves as members. But then I also noticed that the first two weeks are a free trial period, and after that, you pay $10 membership dues. Hmm...strange. And then I read the mini application that you have to submit to Big Momma before being approved by the group. I kid you not, here are the questions that you must complete:

• Introduce yourself
• Upload your photo
• Because we love our children and want what is best for them, we require a screening process to join our group and an attendance policy to stay in the group. Do you agree to these terms?
• What are the names and ages of your kid(s)?
• What would you like to get out of this group?
• If you were stranded on an island, what would be your choice of movie, cd, and beverage to have?

Like I said, I understand why there is a screening process. With that being said, I was surprised at how formal the group is. I just want my kid to play with other kids his age, I'm not trying to pledge a sorority, which is kind of what it feels like. I was also a little turned off by the fact that it's required to submit a photo. Does Big Momma only approve pretty mommies? Maybe I'm being biased, because of the previous injustice doled out to Mike, but I just didn't care for the elitist tone of the whole page. I haven't decided if I'm going to join or not, but I thought I could use my free two-week trial period to check it out and see if I like any of the other moms or not. As always, I'll let you know if my first impressions were confirmed or negated.

Anyways, let me know what you think about the mommies group and vote in the poll to the left.

Poignant Babbling

Last night, I had on "The Bachelor" while Cameron was drinking his milk before bedtime. I think Mama Womack was interrogating Emily about whether or not she thought she could truly find love on the farce that is the premise of the show, and Emily responded with, "I truly have feelings for your son; otherwise, I would have left on day one to be with my daughter," or something absurd like that. I kid you not, the minute she stopped talking, Cameron said, "Blah blah blah." What can I say? The kid is discerning...or a future entertainment blogger.

Mommy Issues

This has nothing to do with Cameron. It has everything to do with my Mommy issues. Relax Mom and take a deep breath, I'm not about to put you on blast. I'm talking about my issues with the mommies of Cedar Park. It has been a roll o' coaster of emotions for me the past 24 hours. I want you to take a trip with me back to where it all began. Let's rewind to yesterday at Library class (cue the Wayne's World doo doo do, doo doo do)...

I'm sitting in the class with some women that Mindy and I have befriended lately. These are super nice people and I'm enjoying my conversations. As usual I am the only male in the class above the age of 16 months, but I really have stopped paying much attention to that. I'm starting to feel like I'm just part of the group. Then it happens. The moment I've been waiting for. One of the mother's mentions that they have a "Mother's group" that meets up during the day for outings (i.e. going to the park, etc.) and she wondered if I would like to come along. My heart leapt. Eureka! Ever since I've been a "stay at home" I have longed to be a part of one of those groups at the parks and not just that male creeper lurking about and awkwardly butting into there conversations. Now I was going to have a group of my own. After checking out some books, I walked out of the library to find members of my group still talking with one another. Brimming with confidence and a feeling of belonging I approached the group with a big smile and a "hi there fellow moms." I then made a joke about getting together for "Mani / Pedi's" and everyone laughed, all the while our children played happily around us. It was lovely. We talked for about 5 more minutes then I headed home. I called Mindy on the way to share my excitement about today's events. The rest of the day felt like I was walking on a cloud.

I suppose, I should have seen it coming. I should have known it was too good to be true. Last night is when the hammer fell. I send out an email to the person who had invited me, so she could add Mindy and myself to the email list. I won't cut and paste the response I received, but allow me to furnish you with some of the highlights: "Mindy more than welcome," "Bunco nights," "Group organizer (aka head mom) said," "mom's not comfortable," "breast feeding in public," "You should really be working harder so the nurturing parent can be with your child," "take your penis and scram." Okay, I might have added a couple of elements there. Essentially, she told me that the group organizer (aka Big Momma) said that she thinks having a man there would change the dynamics and she offered to send a link to a Father's group I could pursue. And for the first time in my life, I have some major mother abandonment issues. I wasn't mad, just really, really hurt. I racked my brain for how to deal with the situation. After about an hour of deep thinking and intermittent sobbing I decided how to proceed. I sat down and wrote the following email (with some added explanations to you included within parentheses):

Dear J (aka nice person who kindly included me and is now awkwardly stuck in the middle of me and Big Momma),
You tell your leader that I will not take this lying down. As far as I see it, I have four options at this point:
1) Crawl away like the emasculated bitch that you clearly think I am to join a "father's group" who will undoubtedly never want to play Bunco with me (side note: it has been a dream of mine since my elementary school bunco party to once again play this game. The added Bunco component to this mess is really like a dagger to the heart).
2) Call a local news program and ask them to do an investigation on gender-stereotyping and exclusion by Mother's in the Cedar Park Community
3) Create my own "all-accepting" parenting group, subversively find out wherever your group is meeting, hold simultatneous meeting at that location that tries to both one-up your group and recruit all of it's members; thereby, destroying it
4) Put in for sex-reassignment surgery. Question: What are the mother's stance on transgendered people? I'd like to know how far I'd have to commit to option 4 to make it viable?

So you tell your leader that I'm weighing my options. Unless, of course she has a sudden change of heart. Good day!

I'm still waiting to hear back.

Return of the Blogger

After a five-week hiatus, I'm finally making my triumphant return to the blogosphere. I know what you're thinking - I must think I'm invincible like Charlie Sheen, where I can indulge in my hedonistic lifestyle and disappear for weeks at a time, and then when I'm ready to come back, I expect you, dear reader, to be expectantly waiting for me. Like Charlie Sheen, I have tiger's blood, warlock fangs, and am addicted to winning, and like Charlie Sheen, I have recently engaged in a media blitz to promote this blog (read: posted pictures on Facebook). Unlike Charlie, I do apologize for my absence, and I would like to briefly update you on the events of the past five weeks, so here goes:


We hosted Cameron's first birthday party on Super Bowl Sunday, which was actually his birthday. Cameron got to celebrate his birthday with all but one of his grandparents and great-grandparents. Cameron did NOT enjoy having "Happy Birthday" sung to him, and there was a very anti-climactic moment when he decided he didn't really like his birthday cupcake and wouldn't eat it. So unfortunately, we didn't get any good pictures of cake smeared all over his hands and face.

Cameron went to the doctor for his 12-month check-up. He weighed in at 21 lbs., 14 oz. (40th percentile) and measured 29" (25th percentile). In all other health-related news, all seems to be well. Cam took his four 12-month shots like a champ, and we postponed his chicken pox vaccine until his 15-month appointment. On a side note, I read in the recent issue of Parents magazine that you can predict your child's height by adding 5" to Mom's height and averaging it with Dad's height. If we use this formula, then Cameron will be 5'11" - there's hope for him yet! But Mike says this formula does not account for the Asian factor, which means that we should then subtract 3". Cameron is going to have to learn sooner or later that his father likes to make sweeping stereotypes about his ethnicity.

Cameron started walking last Friday! He had been taking a few steps at a time before he dropped to a squat or crawl, but he finally strung together 15-20 steps and now he is finally bipedal. Welcome to the land of homo erectus, son! Cameron does this cute thing when he walks, where he raises his hands up over his head. We're not sure if this is a sign of triumph or if he's got a severe case of jazz hands. Either way, it's adorable, as you will see in the video below. You will also note my dad's level of excitement about all the walking.

We're having an interesting time with Cameron's diet. Transitioning to whole milk was no problem - in fact, Cameron seems to prefer whole milk to formula. However, eating table foods is a whole other matter. He only wants to eat baby food or hard food, like crackers, Cheerios, or very toasted crust. In fact, he's become quite the cheese cracker connoissuer: he can discern between Annie's cheese bunnies, Cheez-its, pepperjack Cheez-its, and Hot & Spicy Cheez-its. I guess the old saying is true after all: like father, like son. Anyways, after a mini-freak out about his diet, I read online that many moms have had this problem with their children, and the kids eventually grow out of it. So here's to hoping Cameron eventually starts feeding himself and not just feeding Reilly (see Mike's previous post).

Cameron now has two bottom teeth and three and a half teeth on top! We're experiencing some mad drooling, but thankfully the blistering diaper rash hasn't accompanied this round of teething.

Anyways, to wrap this up, sorry it's been so long between posts. I'm just now catching up on things and will try to post more regularly. And just for the record, I kind of wish I had two goddesses who lived with me to cook and clean and watch my kid. That Charlie Sheen knows what he's doing after all! (I just saw that Charlie just got fired from "Two and a Half Men" tonight - maybe he doesn't know what he's doing after all.)

I'm afraid

So Cameron has taken to taunting Reilly while he eats. He routinely takes his food and holds it over the edge of his high chair. Sometimes, when he holds disdain for whatever new food the parentals are trying to force on him, he will look away from the dog and coldly open his hand as though he can't even bear to watch this piece of rubbish be eaten by anyone. Those are the good times for Reilly. It's like he's in a club with Pac Man Jones, except Cam is making it rain bite size solids. Other times, Cameron will hold his food tightly in his hand and hold it over the edge of the high chair with a big smile on his face. Then, as Reilly starts to get close to the food, Cameron will quickly pull the food out of Reilly's reach and squeal with delight. The psychologist in me is now thinking - deliberately tries to provoke others? Check. Enjoys to see other's suffer? Check. Cruelty to animals? Check. Anyway, this little exchange usually ends with Cameron eating the food in his hand and staring at Reilly from his throne with supreme arrogance. Well, today during a late breakfast, we had a slightly new exchange. Cam held out the food to Reilly, but keep it there longer than usual. Reilly, tired of this little munchkins' antics, got more assertive and began to take the food out of Cam's Kong-Fu like grip. Reilly seemed to be being really gentle and doing a good job of discerning between raisin toast and fingers. But, I decided that this interaction was questionable and put Reilly outside for the remainder of the feeding until I had time to sort out my stance on this.

Lets fast forward 10 minutes later. Cam is playfully feeding me a banana cookie when I happen to glance toward the back window and see Reilly's snout pressed against the glass. There was a look of rage in his eyes that made me shudder. I've never been caught in an act of betrayal like that and the look in his eyes chilled me to the bone. I now live in fear of his retaliation...

I'm going to stream of conscious this mo fo

At the park today, Cam and I encountered a young person walking around and showcasing her budding vocabulary (i.e. mom, hi, arm). Then as I was lurking by the swings and eavesdropping on the conversational habits of female "Stayathomes", as I am prone to do, I overheard her mother say that she is still nursing this individual twice a night. Now I am really confused. How old is this baby? One of my new favorite pastimes is mentally guessing the age of babies then asking mothers to find out how close I was. It's kind of like guessing how many marbles are in the jar at the public library, except much easier and without prizes. This one was a stumper though. It could have been anywhere from 10 months to a year-and-a-half. I would have asked, but I didn't find this "Stayathome" particularly friendly and frankly, I was a bit frightened to discover the answer. Let me say this though, Cam has officially started loving the playground. And he's much more fun to take there then he used to be. He crawls all over the jungle gyms, considers taking kamikaze leaps off of high ledges (then invariably chickens out), and works the slides. And of course he loves to eat rocks. He knows I don't want him to do this too, which of course increases the pleasure exponentially. He'll look me directly in the eye, put a rock in his mouth, then turn and sprint-crawl away from me in glee. It backfired on him today though when, in an attempt to escape the rock police, he got wedged between a rod iron fence and a plantar. What can I say, disobedience is a bitch. I let him spend a few minutes behind bars in order to teach him "a lesson." And yes, I do get a good amount of my parenting skills from Arrested Development. When we got home from the park Cam was as "tired" as the hyper-hypo after he towed his parents car home. He had dirt smeared on his face, his hair was everywhere, and he smelled like sweat. In other words, he reminded me of myself in middle school. He powered down some beef flavored baby food and apple sauce, then hit the sack. All and all it was a pleasant afternoon...

A Sentimental Moment for Mama

Last night, Cameron woke up crying. I went into his room to soothe him, and I heard some suspicious sounds that made me think he might have a dirty diaper. He didn't, so I think the poor little guy had some gas, and that's what woke him up.

He had been crying so hard that his breathing was still uneven, but he was really sleepy, so I seized the moment to do something selfish: I held him and rocked him back to sleep. I don't think I've rocked him to sleep for almost six months now and he usually doesn't sit still for very long in my lap anymore, so it felt good to have my little boy in my arms. He nestled up against me and laid his head on my shoulder, and my cup runneth over.

As I sat there, listening to his breathing and feeling him become heavy with sleep, I reflected about Cameron's first year of life and how so much has changed in just one year. I thought about when he was really little and how we would often fall asleep together in the chair in the middle of the night. I remembered how small his little body was then and marveled at how he only needed to feel safe, secure, and full in order to fall asleep. And then I thought about the many years ahead of us, and I wondered how old Cameron will be when he decides he's too big to sit in Mommy's lap and snuggle. I thought about how the day will come when I won't be able to soothe Cameron or make his problems go away just by hugging him, and that made me sad.

Growing up, my parents told me again and again that I would always be their baby. I thought I knew what they meant, but now that I'm a parent myself, I get it, I really get it.

Cameron, you have an open invitation to climb into my lap for a hug, no matter how old you are...

The Last 24 Hours

It's been an eventful 24 hours for Cameron. He played in the sand box at the park, ate a leaf, threw up all over Mike, stacked the toy rings on the post all by himself, and climbed in the dishwasher. Just another day in the life of the Cam-Man!



By the way, this is a direct quote from a queasy Mike after the vomiting incident last night: "You haven't really lived until you've had someone throw up on the underside of your chin."

Fright Night

Tonight I saw Cameron so frightened that his little hands were actually shaking. The culprit? A large, foreign intruder that made lots of loud, scary noises...the vacuum cleaner. When I first turned it on, he kept screaming. I think he was scared at first, but then he followed me around the house, vigilantly watching the vacuum cleaner and keeping a safe distance.

I guess this just goes to show how often I don't vacuum. On second thought, maybe Cameron's fear is justification/rationalization for why it's okay to not vacuum!

The power of the written word

I don't know if you've ever had the mind-blowing experience that is Nancy Tafuri's "Goodnight, My Duckling," but if you haven't yet, you're about to. I found this treasure in the library and chose to check it out based on the critical acclaim. This is the review printed on the back of the book:

"Quiet, lovely, and soothing, this is a worthy companion to Tafuri's Have You Seen My Duckling?" - Kirkus Reviews

Sounds absolutely delightful right? Well here is the story:

Early one evening...
"Time for bed, my ducklings!"
"Goodnight, little duckling."
"Sleep tight, little duckling."
"See you in the morning, little duckling."
"Hurry home, little duckling."
"Are you lost, little duckling?"
"There you are my duckling!"
"Sweet dreams little duckling."
"I love you, my duckling."
Goodnight.

Wow. The more I read that the more touched I am. I'll admit, the first time I read it I was a little perplexed with the initial transition from "Early one evening..." to dialogue. Initially I was left with a similar feeling to the confused wonder I experienced at the end of Black Swan. But clearly Goodnight My Duckling is not to be understood. It is to be experienced. It says so much by saying so little. Again, all I can really say is Wow. What a metaphor for life. A masterpiece. So much pain and beauty in one story is almost too hard to take. I am going to end this blog early to continue my weeping in peace. Be well and remember that,

I love you my ducklings,
Papa

Haircut #3

I think I'm going to have to take Cameron to get his hair cut at least every six weeks. His hair has been so shaggy recently, it's probably better to get his hair cut every month. Really? This kid is going to have to get his hair cut more often than Mike or me!

I took Cameron to the hair salon this evening, and our experience was not as pleasant as Haircuts #1 and #2. He wouldn't keep his head still for the stylist and kept trying to turn to look at her. He also kept putting his hands up around his head, probably trying to defend his hair from getting chopped off. After all, he's been told his whole life how great his hair is and how much hair he has, and so of course he probably doesn't understand why anyone want to mangle his best feature. In fact, one time our next door neighbor said "haircut" to him, and he started crying. True story.

Anyways, if that wasn't difficult enough, there was also a head-banging incident. Somehow he hit his head on the steering wheel of the fire truck he was getting his hair cut in. (For those of you who have never been to a kids salon before, that last sentence sounds completely ridiculous, I'm sure.) I looked at him and I saw blood trickling down between his eyes. My first thought was that the stylist cut him with her scissors, but then I remembered that her scissors were by his neck when "the incident" happened. Anyways, the litle champ didn't cry at all, and now he looks extra tough with his battle wound from his hair cut.

Oddly enough, Cameron didn't seem to mind the clippers, and he stayed perfectly still. That's especially weird, considering he doesn't like random loud noises like the vaccuum cleaner, the ice maker, or the pepper grinder. Anyways, I think the haircut was abbreviated because of the open head wound, but I still think the stylist did a pretty good job.

By the way, you might have noticed another bruise on Cameron's forehead; that also happened on my watch while we were on a slide at the park earlier this week. Not a good week for Cameron's noggin!

The Results Are In...

BabyCenter just released the most popular baby names of 2010. Drum roll, please...the most popular girl's name is Sophia, and the most popular boy's name is Aiden. Interesting - I don't think Cameron has any friends named Sophia or Aiden.

Anyways, I checked the Top 100 boy names of 2010 and looked back at the March Madness-style tournament o' names that Mike set up. Here are the results:

Jackson vs. Tupaquiupanqui - Jackson is #3, while Tupaquiupanqui wasn't anywhere on the Top 100, or Top 100,000 (voter results: Jackson won)

Dylan vs. Tyler - Dylan is #23, while Tyler comes in at #34 (voter results: Dylan won)

Jordan vs. Stryker - Jordan is #69, while Stryker is no where to be found, which is not surprising, since this isn't even a real name! (voter results: Jordan won)

Cameron vs. Isaiah - Cameron is #37, and Isaiah is #63 on the list (voter results: Cameron won)

Now that I look back on it, I am so glad we chose the name we did. I am really glad we didn't pick Jackson, considering that it is the third most popular name out there right now.

I can't even imagine Cameron with another name. He is who he is.

To see the complete list of the Top 100 baby names in 2010 for boys and girls, click here.

Letter to Cameron

Dear Cameron,

I'm writing this letter because I love you and care about your well-being, and I DO NOT like watching you vomit after you finish dinner....especially after I've just taken off your catch-all bib. No offense, but bulging eyes and a red face due to choking isn't the best look for you. Plus, it's a little scary. Due to your hijinks and shenanigans, I'm now seriously considering taking a CPR class so I know how to clear that little windpipe of yours in the event it gets blocked again.

So in order to avoid future mishaps, I strongly encourage you to consider CHEWING your food before you swallow it whole. Whether it be Sprouts Stage 3 "advanced meals with texture" or goldfish crackers, please, please, please use your two teeth to bite and chew food until it's the proper size to be swallowed. And oh yeah, it helps if you don't stuff five goldfish in your mouth at once.

We've been working on food with different textures for the last six weeks or so, and I know that may have been a little late in the game. I read that we were supposed to start introducing textured foods to you earlier we did or there's a risk that we will have a very hard time getting you to eat them as a toddler. I'm very sorry about the delay, and I hope I haven't doomed you to a lifetime of bland dietary preferences like plain cheeseburgers and tacos with no lettuce...you may not understand that that jab was at your father, but you will soon find out for yourself that your father is a man who rather enjoys texture-less food.

Anyways, three vomiting situations in two weeks is enough for me. In the words of Uncle Joey on Full House, "Cut. It. Out."

Here's to hoping you didn't throw up everything in your stomach so you can sleep through the night tonight!

xoxo
Mommy

Deep Questions by the Graves' Men

Cameron is searching. He is on a quest for wisdom. Often he crawls over to his magnetic alphabet toy and proceeds to ask a very difficult question:

This is a true story. He really does pick out the Y on an almost daily basis and then carry it around with him, while looking at you with eyes full with wonder. Well, if he wants answers, he's definitely looking at the wrong man. But in honor of our young philosopher, I will gladly contribute some why questions that have been plaguing me of late:

- Why did Pampers decide to include a brownish-green splotch of color at the bottom edge of their diapers? This struck incredible fear into me for the first 200 diaper changes. Is this some sort of a diaper practical joke or did they really not consider the fact that a brownish splotch of color in that location might be disconcerting to their consumers. Seriously, why?

- Why are Jehovah Witnesses recruiting? Correct me if I'm wrong, any witnesses of Jehovah out there, but don't ya'll believe that literally only 144,000 people will make it into heaven? If I was in an organization where only a select few of us were going to get free donuts, let alone eternal life, I'd probably be actively working to keep that organization a secret. Every person you recruit directly reduces your odds of salvation. Plus, if you stop, I don't have to awkwardly ignore your knocks while you're fully aware that I'm standing directly on the other side of the door. So it's a win-win really. Think about it...

- Why are people still playing football? According to the highly empirical "research" I just did on Wiki Answers, the average lifespan of an NFL player is about 15 years less than the average American man. Maybe this is due to the fact that you have to be a clinically obese giant and/or subject yourself to repetitive brain trauma in order to be any good at this sport? Not to mention, the fact that the "sport" really only has about 12 minutes of game-play within a three-hour event. There might be a better ratio of physical movement to strategic planning in chess. Plus the rules of this game are completely convoluted and over-complicated. Why does America love this game? Why am I watching it as I type? Why?

- Why are we still teaching cursive in school? Listen 4th grade teachers, they have this thing called typing that may possibly provide a slightly faster way to write. Plus, I think more adults these days are using computers than inking sprawling letters. We're not still teaching kids how to use a quill in school, are we? Exactly, so why are you still teaching these children cursive? Why? Why!? Why!!? Note to Cameron, if they are still teaching this outdated skill when you are in 4th grade, I want you to actively protest by refusing to participate. In fact, I want you to take out your iPhone 25, or whatever they have invented by that time, and text your teacher the following: "Stop pushing your slanty agenda. I want to learn actual life skills today, not archaic artsy-fartsy nonsense." If you can't tell, I hate cursive with the burning passion of a thousand suns. I didn't understand why I had to learn two forms of writing with a pencil 20+ years ago, so I really don't understand it now. Plus, I have the fine motor skills of a four-year-old, so thinking about trying to trace those curvy letters over and over sparks some PTSD in me. Go away cursive. Die!

- Why are movie award shows separated by genders? Is there a different criteria for judging acting in men and women? Are men or women at a different tier than the other, so that by combining it one would be at a competitive disadvantage. The feminist in me is stirring. What is the rationale behind this? Why?

- Why doesn't phonetic start with an f?

- Why are people obsessed with baby teeth? It's like when adults get around babies they all need to fulfill some sort of dental fantasy. It's not as bad now that Cameron's teeth are on prominent display, but when they were in their turtle head phase, people were constantly straining to get a peek and making comments about the sure immanence of tooth arrival. The odd mixture of excitement and anticipation on these people's faces baffles me. The teeth are here now and it's really not exciting. I swear the only things more overrated than teeth are Tim Tebow and Mother Teresa.

- Why can't the water dispenser in our fridge just keep working? It was like "Awakenings." The water came back for two beautiful, thirst-quenching months and than just as mystically as it appeared, it was gone. We need Cam to work his magic again.

- Why have we not earned "blog of the day" honors on blog-spot yet? You'd think with a constituency of 7 followers, we'd finally start getting some respect.

- Why am I still sitting here typing nonsense? I'm out...

Out and About

I just thought I'd share two amusing anecdotes that have happened over the last few days:


1) Mike, Cameron, and I went to lunch one day last week. Our server, who was an elderly gentleman, took our order and then hesitantly asked us, "Does...the person...need anything?" referring to Cameron. As soon as he walked away, we chuckled a little. Obviously, our server wasn't sure if Cameron was a boy or girl, so he decided to play it politically correct. After this conversation, our server must have recognized the ignorance of his question and decided in the kitchen to rectify the situation, because when he returned to our table, he came out boldly and strongly with, "She's so well-behaved." And then he came back with two more "she" references, and every time he left our table, Mike and I got in a good laugh at his expense.


2) Today, Cameron and I were shopping at Old Navy. We walked by a woman and her baby and we sort of made eye contact, so I obligingly smiled at her. She stopped and asked, "Is that Cameron?" I must have looked really surprised, because she said, "I go to the lapsit class at the library with your husband." Wow, I didn't know Cameron is such a celebrity in the Cedar Park Library circle. Maybe he needs to wear sunglasses again like in the old days, so the paparazzi doesn't catch up with him anymore!