Child of Ungoliant

Zach had another near death experience today. This in and of itself is nothing unusual. Except today it wasn’t his typical blatant disregard for human life exercised in the form of licking an outlet, eating loose change or pulling the dog’s ears. No, today he was just an innocent bystander. Today, death came looking for him.

I walked into my son’s bedroom to find him ignoring his toys and inquisitively looking just over my shoulder at the back corner of the room.

“Hey Squirt, whatcha’ looking OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL IS THAT”

Apparently while my family was away for Thanksgiving, Shelob decided to move out of Mordor and take up residence in Zach’s bedroom.

Now, I don't mean to brag, but I am proud of the fact that very few things actually scare or intimidate me;

Heights? No problem.

Snakes? Pshaw.

Standing naked in front of a large gathering while giving a ill-prepared speech? Easy.

But if I unexpectedly come across a spider, I shriek and quickly dissolve into inconsolable hysterics like a schoolgirl who has unexpectedly come across Zac Efron.

Armed with nothing more than a box of Kleenex, I ignored the natural instinct to soil myself and took a defensive stance. Throwing caution into the wind, I quickly positioned my body between the Boy and the massive, egg engorged, pulsating spawn of hatred from the underworld.

Akin to the parent who somehow finds superhuman strength to lift a car that’s rolled onto their child, I dug deep and found the courage to attack.

An epic battle ensued where I fought valiantly but was ultimately ambushed, paralyzed and left for dead only to be found by Orcs who took me captive in the enemy stronghold of Cirith Ungol.

I’ll gloss over the details at this point, but let me just say that I escaped, was reunited with my family and I’m fine.

The above picture was indeed taken in Zachary’s room but in Washington, not San Diego. The guest star of today’s blog was actually a black widow- These are small but still very dangerous to children. Lets just say if he could choose between getting a bite from a Widow, Cobra or Coral snake he would be ill advised not to go with the either of the latter two. No, I didn’t get a photograph of Shelob. I almost died. Cut me some damn slack.

Nightmares

Not too long ago, Zachary woke up in the middle of the night screaming. I ran into his room and said, "What's up Winston? You okay?" The look of fear on his face spoke volumes; You left me alone, in the dark. And I'm scared.

I scooped my boy up into my arms and he immediately fell back to sleep. But as I rocked my baby in the wee hours of the night, I began to wonder:

Can a baby have a nightmare?

After a brief philosophical discussion with my wife, I have settled on the conclusion that if you are old enough to experience life, then you are old enough to have nightmares about it.

"What," I pondered at my slumbering son "could you possibly have nightmares about?"

Before the thought was completed in my mind, I imagined Zachary looking up at me and saying,

Daddy?
Do you remember when I was 8 months old and I accidentally broke your camera lens?
Do you remember how you yelled?
I felt so bad for making you angry and I was sorry for what I did
But it didn't matter
You yelled anyway
You kept yelling and yelling and after a while it was as if you weren't even angry about the lens, but something else all together

Why don't you write about those memories Dad?
Where are the photos of those moments?

"Well son," I whisper sadly
you don't need pictures or stories to remember those times
Those are the ones that are always there with you
Waiting to come out,
from hiding under the bed
or peeking from behind the closet
Whenever you're alone
In the dark
And scared

The Art Of Parenting

The proceeding picture is one I took of Zachary shortly after he realized that I wasn’t going to let him eat the squashed bug he had just discovered on the floor. Unsurprisingly, he launched into a well-researched, beautifully constructed and brilliantly articulated, hissy fit.

That got me thinking; if little Winston here wasn’t the tender age of 9 months old, he’d probably be kicking the intellectual shit out of me right now and I’d eventually have to let him eat the damn bug.

The writing’s on the wall. I’m simply no match for this kid. I’m Doomed. Helpless. Hopeless. We’d both be a hell of a lot happier if he just always got what he wanted.

But as I was getting ready to pour myself a stiff drink and settle into the inevitable roll of “Deadbeat Dad”, I saw a peculiar book in my bookshelf.

“The Art of War” by Sun Tzu

“Ok” I thought, “It’s worth a try”.

I opened the book and started reading. 2 pages in, I was amused. 10 pages in, I was in awe.

The formula is simple. Just replace the word “enemy” with “child” and BAM! You have the single greatest Guide to Successful Parenting ever printed on paper or bamboo.

Chapter Summary:

1. Laying Plans: Evaluate your competitive strengths and weaknesses against your (child)


2. Conflict (Waging War): Making the winning play requires limiting the cost of conflict with your (child).


3. Strategic Attack: When engaged in a competitive situation with your (child), strength comes from unity, not size, of your forces


4. Tactical Dispositions: Defend existing positions established against your (child).


5. Energy: Use creativity and timing when engaged in a conflict with your (child).


6. Weak Points & Strong: Recognize opportunities that come from the relative weakness of your (child) in a given area.


7. Maneuvering: How to win confrontations of direct conflict when they are forced upon you by your (child).


8. Variation and Adaptability: Be flexible in your responses to your (child). Respond to shifting circumstances differently.


9. The (Child) on the March: Evaluate the intentions of your (child) in order to anticipate their maneuvers against you.


10. Choose The Terrain: Understand the (child’s) general areas of resistance.


11. The Nine Situations: Nine common situations in a competitive campaign and the specific focus you need to successfully navigate each of them.


12. The Fiery attack: The (child) may use the environment as a weapon and the appropriate responses to such attack.


13. The Use of Intelligence and Espionage: Develop inside contacts to acquire current information about the (child).

So there you have it. Raise a child, take over the world.

Piece of cake.

The Ball In Your Court

One night in late October, Zachary was wide awake about 2 hours past his bedtime. In his hyperactive deliriousness, Zachary began to act a little odd. As he sat on his bedroom floor in the wee hours of the night (i.e. 11pm), he began to play with his plastic snail. And by "play", I mean beat into submission.

As parents, Kacy and I were just baffled to watch this playtime unfold.

Had someone spiced the mashed banannas that evening? Was our sweet little baby developing ADHD so soon? No, as it turns out, he was simply warming up for the "real toy". The Baseball.

Conception and Misconceptions: Pregnancy, Birth, and Raising a Baby

This is Lesley. Please lower the bar. Okay then.

This week, Zachary turns 9 months old. Hence, he will now have spent about equal time in utero, and out of utero (this isn’t exactly true, because in pregnancy counting includes 2 weeks of ovulation, where Zachary was genetically only half the man he was to become).

But, close enough.

More to the point, I have now spent equal time in pregnancy and post partum. Prior to and during this whole experience, I had some definitive perceptions about what this pregnancy, birth, and being a mom would be like. Like any scientist, I collected sources, reviewed them for accuracy, and then formulated my own hypothesis or theory. My sources were plentiful: books, parents (including my own mom), movies, and childbirth classes, ect.

Some of these perceptions turned out to be true, and some, not true at all. Thus, this series will be to accurately evaluate (and in some cases debunk) those ideas that we unsuspecting new mothers hold as truth, and nothing but the truth (aka Factcheck.org).

Since Zachary does really take up all of my spare time. This will need to be done in a four or five part series.

#1: Hollywood’s depiction of morning sickness. (i.e. Knocked Up, Saved, Juno, ect.)

MYTH!!! All of those unlucky mothers out there who have gone through “morning” sickness KNOW what I am talking about. First, let’s talk about what Hollywood did get right: morning sickness is not limited to morning. Whoever cooked up that misnomer ought to be shot. Mostly because unsuspecting new pregnancies like me believe that names are meant to be accurate. If names were accurate, then morning sickness is really all-day-all-night-sickness. But, here is where Hollywood gets it wrong.

Scene from Knocked Up: A newly pregnant Kathryn Heigl is interviewing someone for TV. Suddenly she starts to feel a bit ill, and then she runs offstage spewing into a can.

Why this is scene grossly under prepares the newly pregnant mother for what is really to come. It implies that (1) nausea comes on suddenly, (2) the rest of the time you are fine and (3) you have the capacity to function beyond an infantile state.

Here is the reality. When you have morning sickness, you are nauseated ALL of the time. You don’t just suddenly think, Huh, I’m really not feeling so hot, maybe I’ll go vomit now. Nooooo. You've been hit with a 10-week case of Salmonella poisoning. You learn every curve and detail of your home toilet during this time, and probably the tiling patterns of your work bathroom too.

Second falsehood propagated on the silver screen: when your head is not in the nearest receptacle, life is fine and dandy and you are functioning like a normal person. HA! Do you function normally during a bout of food poisoning? Thought not. The best part of each day is after you’ve finished a round (yes, a round) of vomiting and you get that 10 minute recovery feeling where you actually think you might be able to eat something now….once your nose stops burning.

#2: The second trimester is the best part, you’ll glow.

Mostly true, except the glowing part. The second trimester IS the best of pregnancy, but saying that you’ll glow is really stretching it. I think that “glow” is mistaken for the look of complete relief that morning sickness is only occuring a couple hours per day. A more accurate depiction of the second trimester is this: Here is the stage with the LEAST amount of problems…

Here is a picture of me transitioning from the second to third trimester. That is a look of relief!

More to come...

Zach Crawls

I have suspected that my son has been mobile for a few days now. However witnessing his stealthy quadrupedal kinesis in person, let alone capturing the event on film, has thus far eluded me. It all started harmlessly enough: Zach would be sitting peacefully in the center of the room on a blanket while I sat a few feet away with my laptop checking my email. An instant later, Zach is playing with a fork and the electrical outlet.

How the hell...

Naturally, I assumed the dog had picked him up and moved him. Either that, or Zach had somehow ripped a hole in the space-time continuum and teleported to the cupboard containing the cleaning materials and knives. Simply unthinkable was the possibility that my son, my BABY, of a mere 8 months of existence had so rapidly developed his motor skills and triumphed over his epic battle against ataxia.

In the minutes that followed I would rescue my son from his blatant attempts at suicide no less than 7 times. I would piously return him to the safety of the center of the blanket in the middle of the floor, an astronomical 6 or 7 feet away from any potential life threatening mischief. Yet somehow, every few seconds I would find him in some new unexplainable location, like digging through the trash, sticking his hands in the toilet, or eating dog food.

So there I was, sitting on the couch with our friend Annie, when I saw the impossible happen:

My son crawled.

Sounds impossible, I know. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes (didn't we just bring him home from the hospital like, a week ago?) but here is the mocking evidence of my ignorance to the passage of time

Too young for Chutes and Ladders, Too old to just sit there whlie you drink

Zach has reached an age where simple shadows on the wall don't hold his attention like they used to. As a result, he has found a variety of ways to satisfy is ever growing demand for cheap, accessible entertainment. Here is a list of his current favorite pastimes.

Take a Dump in the Bath
# of players: 2-3
Rules: Engage in happy bubbly play in bath while sitting in between the legs of a clueless player 2. While player 2 is distracted, take silent but massive dump. Do not give any outward clues to the passing of this event. Score points for allowing player 2 to come across it as he gropes in the bathwater for the sponge.

Yank the Penis (formerly known as "Squeeze the Testicles")
# of players: 1
Rules: While naked (getting changed, taking bath etc.), firmly grasp hold of your penis and stretch it out to the point of excruciating pain. Shriek in terror and then let it go and watch it snap back while it makes a *THWAP* sound. Repeat.

Gravity is Fun
# of players: 2
Rules: Drop item. Stare intently at item and squeal until other player retrieves it for you. Repeat.
Bonus points: Play during much anticipated sports game, preferably late in the 4th quarter.

Put Fingers in my Poo
# of players: 2
Rules: While diaper is getting changed, reach down and stick your fingers in your own excrement. Then, touch everything around you as fast as you can.

Kick Daddy in the Balls
# of players: 2
Rules: While napping peacefully with Dad, roll over and firmly kick him square in the testicles. Repeat until you lock up your status as only child.

For the Love of Lint
# of players: 2
Rules: Pretend to play quietly by yourself on a blanket with a toy. As soon as Player two's back is turned, grab nasty tangled hair laden lint mass hidden in blankets and put it in your mouth. Repeat.

Annoy the Dog
# of players: 1 + Dog
Rules: While in "Ring-a-Ding" walker, chase helpless dog all over the house. Once dog is cornered, yank his ears and pull his fur until he moves to a new location. Repeat.

Embarrass Dad
# of players: 3 or more
Rules: While in public, proceed to charm every person in sight. Once a small crowd of attractive young women has gathered and Dad is explaining to them what an awesome, sweet, perfect baby your are, loudly and emphatically crap your pants while grunting and turning purple.

True, many of these games are timeless and can be played well into teenage and adult years. However, I will no doubt often be adding new games to this list as Zach's creativity expands. So be sure to check back to this post from time to time. Parents, feel free to share your own.

Snakes on a Plane

The title of this blog is a little on the risque side, but my mind completely embraced that title to the exclusion of other creative tag lines that are G-rated.

Disclaimer: Kacy can tell this story infinately better. However, the content almost demanded an immediate blogger tribute. I'll have to fill Kacy's (proverbially) large shoes.

Why this is important: Today, I recieved my first inkling that Zachary may have inhereted Kacy's (bad) propensity to continually fall into situations that are straight out of a Mel Brooks production.

So what happened? Kacy and Zachary embarked on their first plane-ride together to Sacramento this morning. Prior to the flight, Zachary downed 10 ounces of formula and topped that off with some water. For Zachary, this is ALOT of fluid. So, sometime into the flight, Zachary's diaper was filled to the elastic tabs with urine.

In this day and age, it is almost appalling to realize just how many places are not equipped to deal with the nuances of baby changings. When babys outgrow lap changing but are not yet standing up, your only option is to lay them down somewhere on the floor. Where might this be in an airplane? Back by the food preparation area. (And the microbiologist in me is cringing...)

Luckily for Kacy, Zachary is a babe-magnet (no really, I've had 20-something fit girls in bikinis melt at him in MY arms....total babe-magnet). So, not surprisingly, Kacy sweet talks a stewardess into letting him use the food preparation area in the rear of the plane as a baby port-o-potty station. There was just enough room to lay Zachary down on a changing pad, while Kacy squatted on one side and the stewardess squatted on the other side to "coo at the baby". You can imagine what this must have looked like to the curious passengers who were undoubtably turning their heads in confusion to see two backsides crowding out the rear of the plane.

And then, Kacy took off the diaper and an "uh-oh" escaped his lips.

See, apparently, baby boys develop a sizable erection just before they are going to spout off. Zachary is no exception, and Kacy and I (and grandparents) have learned that the larger the erection, the more urine is going to launch from 'Ol Faithful. The stewardess had no idea what was coming. There was just enough time for the stewardess to open her mouth to say "wha.....OH MY! OH MY GOD!"

Yep. Zach peed all over the stewardess. Her face, Her hair, her dress. With no room to move, she squatted there and took 10 ounces of fresh urine to the face and torso. A towel was needed to clean up the drippage off her face. The entire last five rows of the plane erupted in laughter.
Imagine explaining the smell to the next flight crew.

Zach Speaks

I have spent nearly every moment of my son's existence in his presence. I am literally the first thing he sees in the morning and the last thing he sees when he falls asleep. I have sculpted his tiny little brain to mirror my own razor-sharp steel trap of a mind. The vast majority of his life experiences have involved my fatherly influence and guidance.

You can imagine my surprise when I heard him utter his first word, "MAAAAMAAA".

"No. No, nononononono. Son, you're saying it wrong. It's pronounced,'DUH-DUH-DUH' for Dad, Dada, or Daddy. Even various derivatives such as Pop, Pappa, Big Papi, or 'old man' are all acceptable".

Zach smiles at me, "MMMAAAMAAA"

Obviously, my son has a severe speech disorder. He seems incapable of correctly pronouncing the letter D. Despite the hours of relentless practice with top speech therapists and professional tutors, he still insists on pronouncing the letter 'D' with an "Mmmm" sound. Oddly, Lesley doesn't seem too concerned...

Mother Sucker

My son has a hard-core oral fixation. To date, Zach's day-to-day activities pivot around the availability of his beloved pacifiers. My well practiced ritual of frantically searching for a "bippy" every time Zach starts to fuss is now such an entrenched part of my life that I can't imagine a few hours passing without it.

Perhaps some tiny smidgen of blame rests on my shoulders. After all, plugging up his milk-hole is the closest thing he has to an "off button", and I admit to pushing it often.

Yet despite it's predictable and seductive utility, I have noticed a steady decline in a pacifier's ability to actually make our son pacific. And with that, so has diminished our diligence to protect the health and well being of our child from foreign antigen exposure via said pacifier.

To demonstrate the alarming rate of decline, I have provided for all of you my own personal protocol,"How to sterilize a pacifier. A chronology"

1 month old baby: Following strict GLP guidelines, All pacifiers, regardless of use, are to be soaked in a 10% chlorine bleach solution for 30 min. followed by 15 minutes in a autoclave kept in a UV equipped fume hood.

2 month old baby: Pacifiers are to be boiled and machine washed every day

3 month old baby: Pacifier that falls on floor is to be immediately washed in hot soapy water

4 month old baby: Insert pacifier into own mouth prior to inserting into childs' mouth

5 month old baby: Wipe pacifier briefly on pants

6 month old baby: Have dog retrieve pacifier from under the couch and immediately insert into screaming child's gaping maw

Here is an undoctored, actual real-life example of a pacifier I found under Zach's crib just prior to writing this entry. No joke.

Yeah, but can he pair wine with food?

Zachary was practically born smiling and I have the pictures to prove it. Lesley: hospital gown, tattered hair, teary eyes, burst facial capillaries. Zach: Smiling. And no, it wasn't gas. What more could you ask for in a child once you get past the whole ten fingers- ten toes thing?

On the flip side, he's never been a sleeper. I don't know who wrote all those books that tell you that babies sleep around the clock for the first few weeks, but they're full of it. Zach never liked closing his eyes, not when he could be babbling or singing or smiling manically at the pillowcase in an attempt to make friends with it. When he did nap it had to be in the swing. When he did sleep it had to between us in bed. Fitfully, actively. He divided the night between punching Lesley and kicking me. Those aren't bags under my eyes, they're bruises.

Only in a social context have Zachary's sleep issues been a good thing. It's gotten me out of more than a few situations where the happy baby accolades are getting out of hand. Imagine a well-meaning friend, right in front of half dozen other babies and their doting mothers, exclaiming, "wow, that's the happiest baby I've ever seen!" Next thing you know the there are six women glaring at me and my child in almighty silence, then scrambling to make funny faces and poopy sounds in an all-out effort to demonstrate that their baby is happy too, damn it. Potential social crisis indeed. Potential social crisis averted, however, when I mention, "well, he's not a sleeper."

Instantly, the moms are smiling at me like I'm giving away free money. Then they look at each other smugly and nod and wink and give the secret my-baby-sleeps handshake, and start relating stories about how little Tiffany has been sleeping fourteen hours a night straight through since she was 3 weeks. And wakes up laughing every morning. With a clean diaper. That smells like gardenias.

But the other day, it all changed. After six straight months of accrued sleep deprivation, the unimaginable has happened: Zach slept in his crib. All night long. No force-feeding, no duct tape, no Rohypnol mixed in with the formula.

Please don't hate me moms, I bet your kid has much better, um, hair.

Zach Sits Up

10 steps to get your 6 month old child to sit up on their very own.

STEP 1: Clear you schedule

STEP 2: Redefine your interpretation of the word "patience"

STEP 3: Test your new found perspective by taking two dozen cats to a dog park and herd them into a hula-hoop placed on the ground in the center of the field. If you fail, give up or lose any cats, go back to step one. If you succeed, proceed to step four.

STEP 4: Prepare the practice area. To do this you must remove any sharp or hard objects within a 100 foot diameter of your child. Failure to do so will result in your child's' skull making instant contact with said object(s).

STEP 5: Bend your child at the hips and place their bottom firmly on the ground.

STEP 6: Let go of your child

STEP 7: Stop the bleeding by applying firm pressure with a clean cloth applied to your child's' skull.

STEP 8: Remove hard/sharp object from the practice area and go back to step 5. Repeat as necessary (minimum of 10 times)

STEP 9: Once your child successfully sits for 5 seconds, acquire video recorder to document the event.

STEP 10: Push "record" and go back to step one

6 Months old!

I am writing the following with one hand while bouncing my fussy son on my knee. That said, I would like to apologize in advance for any spelling/grammatical errors or random tangent rantings that may have escaped my notice.

Zachary turned 6 months old yesterday and I know I should be writing some awesome, memorable blog to mark the occasion. However, it seems sleep deprivation has leeched me of all creativity and further loosened my already weak grasp of the English language. Meanwhile, Zach continues to make a mockery of my stamina and needlessly flaunts his superior brainpower and physical prowess. My pathetic attempt to keep up and document his development is laughable. On a daily basis we have a plethora of events that call for witty well written masterpieces (Zach's fans deserve no less) and I promise I'll make a valiant attempt in the near future to write on some of our most recent fiascoes.

To celebrate our son's very merry un-birthday, we took an evening trip to the Wild Animal Park. Perhaps some day, through vigorous application of selective memory filters, Lesley and I will forget the half hour of blood curling screams we suffered through in the car on the way to the park and remember the excursion as very pleasant and worthy of repeating.

Be that as it may, despite the 10 years my wife and I aged over the prior 30 minutes, our moods drastically improved once we got to the park. We practically had the place to ourselves (we arrived 2 hours before closing on a Wednesday) and Zachary seemed to get a kick out of all the new funky looking creatures. He openly gazed at many of the animals with what I can only describe as respect- undoubtedly for their ability to emit odors rivaling those of his own. Here are some pics from our day~

20 Baby Gadgets from Cracked.com

Raising a baby is a tough gig. "Experts" declare at every turn that the wrong decisions on nutrition, napping or enrichment will render your child emotionally barren, homeless, sexually deviant and, worst of all, short. It's no wonder child rearing products are such a huge industry. Here are 20 products perfect for developing little tykes ... into adults who want to murder their parents.
#20.
Zaky Infant Pillow

The Zaky Infant Pillow will simulate your touch to soothe your child into rest, provided the baby is accustomed to being palmed by disembodied sausage-fingers.
They are weighted to remain firmly positioned, which is useful to parents who don't want to baby's first memory to be "The time mommy's massive foreman hands mercilessly pinned me down"



#19
Baby Keeper
This is a dangerous idea. Not because it looks unstable or poorly constructed, but because its utility is too seductive.
Once the parent realizes how freeing this is, it will never stop with bathroom breaks. Want to vacuum? Slap that squirming bundle of modern art up on a closet door for a few minutes! Not enough room for the groceries and the child safety seat in the car? Use those hooks on the bumper and make an impromptu side car!












#18.
Swimming Neck Ring
This product, previously named My First Auto-Erotic Asphyxiation Trainer , appears to be primarily designed to protect the baby's head in the event of shark attack.













#17.
Pee-Pee Teepee
It's not just a mechanism to block rogue urine sprays , it's a festive party hat for your baby's junk!
We noticed they are sized so adults can wear them too, but you might consider not breaking it out at the next office shindig. You don't want your last name being synonymous with HR's "Penis Hat" precedent for inappropriate conduct.






#16.
Baby Perfume
This product is a bit befuddling, since "new baby smell" is cherished by adults nearly as much as "new car smell". Strangely enough, the secret to both is liberal application of Armor-All.
Even stranger, the perfumes come in a series of food-flavored scents such as marshmallow, pear, almond, citrus and raspberry, meaning these perfumes may end up serving the dual function of a marinade if you enter dingo country.







#15.
O'Pair Baby Leash
This is a great way to teach your children "I trust you exactly none." Think of it as a renewed umbilical cord designed to transfer shame instead of nutrients.
Note: this product is NOT recommended for joggers. That's a mistake you'll only make once.












#14.
"Thudguard" Helmet
Helmet jokes are too easy and, frankly, a little unfair. Babies learn to walk with a drunken stagger that invariably gravitates towards peril in all directions. A little protection is sensible enough while they are too young to be scarred by it (babies don't develop the shame gland until 18 months).









#13.
3rd Arm
If you're concerned that your toddler doesn't have enough dipping sauces for their zwieback crackers, this is ideal. In fact, we kind of want one of these for our car and easy chair both. It looks convenient as hell.








#12.
Daddle
Sure, you could provide "horsie rides" without it, but then you wouldn't have a baby toy that doubles as an accoutrement for submissive sex play.














#11.
Hamburger Baby Costume
Technically speaking, wouldn't this be a veal costume?










#12
Metallica Lullabies
Despite what metal purists think, Metallica Lullabies is not a box set of everything they've released after "..And Justice For All". It is reimagined and repackaged metal designed to soothe your baby to sleep and begin brokering their relationship with Satan. Kids don't usually embrace the Dark Lord until they discover Dungeons & Dragons, so they'll be way ahead of their peers.






#9.
Manual Snot Sucker
Here are two key points when using this product :
* Take the time to fully sterile the equipment before every use. You will also want to budget some time during use for letting the waves of nausea pass when you realize what you're collecting in that straw.
* When you feel pressure inserting the tube, stop promptly. If you notice the child cannot move the left side of its body when you apply suction, you've gone too far.





#8.
Her First Heels
Coming soon: Her First Drunken Bar Encounter and Her First Awkward Morning After. Collect all three!
Tart Her Up, LLC. cannot be held accountable for any swing in sexuality associated with putting these on your son.










#7.
Baby Mop
Inventors in Japan are fed up with babies constantly making messes and never cleaning up after themselves. Introducing the baby mop, this leverages the all natural cleaning power of drool to buff your floors to a high shine. Please note that extended wear on carpet may build a static charge equivalent to licking a car battery.





#6.
Po-Knee
The cleverly named Po-Knee brings the technology of faux pony rides into the new millenium. Never before has Creepy Uncle bait been so sophisticated.
Parents, always verify the individual offering a spirited Po-Knee ride is wearing pants.













#5.
Man Boobs
From the instant any man dons this apparatus he can count on deeper bonding with his child, getting paid 25% less to do the same job as other men, and being grossly objectified for his sweet, sweet ass. On the flipside, he'll probably never have to buy his own drinks again.










#4.
Baby Whoopee Cushion Costume
Pro: The whoopee cushion will inevitably self-inflate given enough time and a diet rich in legumes
Con: The instant someone opts to sit on it the joke will take a horrible, strangely poetic turn














#3.
Bucktooth Pacifier
Not only is this unspeakably cute , it comes with additional benefits as well. This gift will encourage random people to point and laugh at your baby, the one individual who isn't in on the joke.
This will help educate your baby on the soul-crushing bleakness that this world will rain upon them through the whole of their painful, pathetic lives. It's a small price to pay to have your baby wook wike a widdle bunny-wabbit! Awwwww!






#2 & #1.
Baby Toupee & Baby Tattoos
Babies, though generally placid creatures, can become extremely violent when defending their territory. All it takes is some fresh fish toddler crawling into your kid's corner of the sandbox to incite Lego shivs appearing and suddenly you've now got a baby on the lam.
The least you can do as a responsible parent is to help your baby cloak their appearance with these convenient baby wigs (so they can make a run for the nearest international border) and with these tattoos so that once in prison the fellow inmates will know they're hardcore.

Sun Diego

Ahhhhhh. Sunshine. Who would have thought I could ever miss it? Well, not me for one. But there I was, soaking up the sun in my backyard with my son in Oceanside California and loving every second of it.

Yet later that same day, several of my friends were quick to point out my distinct lack of a tan* while shielding their eyes and shrieking in terror. I indignantly retorted that I had spent almost 8 whole minutes in the sun just a few hours prior with little more than a thin coat of SPF 30. And besides, pasty pale skin is healthy, right? It should be the new trend in "Health Conscious" Southern California any day now, right?

As it turns out, it would seem pioneers of common sense are never understood or appreciated.

Speaking of pioneering, Zachary has had a VERY exciting month filled with all kinds of wondrous achievements. In between moving from Seattle to San Diego he somehow managed to crank out a series of new "first ever" events. Including:

his first steps (backward- assisted by a "ring-a-ding" walker)

his first solid food (mashed potatoes)

and consequently, his first solid turd

Due to circumstances beyond my control (read: poor timing, Devinne intervention and good ol' fashioned laziness), I was unable to document such "personal best" milestones. I did however manage to get some nice shots of him at the park for his first ride in a swing and his first trip to the beach. Here are some pics of his grand day out with me, Lesley and Grandma.

*For those of you living in the North West, I looked up the word tan and found that it is a colloquialism for temporary hyper pigmentation or "browning" of the skin... I know, weird

Finally, it has been brought to my attention that many of you have still not had the life-altering, better-than-sex experience of meeting my boy. So consider this a friendly reminder that we have an open door policy when it comes to showing off our kid (i.e., stop your bitching and high tail it down to San Diego before you miss it and he grows up).

Wholly Crap

Since I've taken Zachary on our road trip to Weed he has had to exclusively eat formula. On the plus side he's starting to gain weight and fill out. He's also sleeping for 5 hour stretches at night instead of his usual 2 1/2.

There has been but one downside. One. Major. Downside.
My son now takes the largest dumps I have ever seen.

Allow me for a moment to shed some perspective on this statement. My best friend Travis and I have for years had a running competition as to who can squeeze out the largest crap. Since Travis is half again my size, I have had to settle for moral victories. But none-the-less it takes more than your average bowel movement to impress me.

Earlier today my son's bowel movement took my breath away. And I don't just mean that figuratively.

My son had not taken a dump in about 24hrs (this apparently is kind of a big deal for an infant). The entire household was experiencing a growing sense of unease. My dad would jump at the slightest sound that resembled a fart. Meanwhile, my mother had been pestering him all day long to hurry up and shit already. Lesson: Be careful what you ask for.

Later that evening, I looked down at my son and noticed a peculiar, almost strained look on his face. My stomach sank. We had gotten our wish. It was the "Big One", Mt. St. Smellens was erupting. I opened my son's diaper to find that his emission had pushed his pathetic, tiny Huggie well past it's feeble limitations. The entire backside of his jammies were completely stained and ruined.

I instantly felt a rising sense of panic. Why hadn't we prepared? Why didn't we stock up on supplies? Was there enough food in the storm cellar? I cursed my mental lapse, lack of preparation and consequent current state of emergency I had befallen. I immediately called my mother for back up. She came running into the room and the stench stopped her dead in her tracks. She did an abrupt about-face and began busying herself in the next room conveniently looking for what she claimed to be diaper wipes. Despite my protests that simple wipes would not suffice and to bring me some acetone, hydrochloric acid or better yet a blow torch, she calmly reassured me that the "Tushy Towels" would be fine.

Although skeptical, I decided to forgo argument and instead focus my attention to the giggling crap factory smiling up at me.

The seconds were dragging by like hours. My forehead beading with perspiration, I struggled in an epic battle with my 4 month old son to keep him from squirming out of my grip and spreading his hair-singeing butt-funk onto the couch and floor.

This, ultimately was a battle I lost against a far superior opponent.

I was able to rent a "Rug Doctor" carpet cleaner to get the worst out of the floors and off the walls. But my dog is definitely going to need a professionals' touch.

Anyway, as part of the sterilization process recommended by the Health Department of California we needed to bathe not just ourselves but the little bugger too. Here is some video from the bath we gave him near ground zero.

Zachary dancing to Jerry Garcia

It's a little old, but I posted it so that Zach's grandparents (John & Lyndell) had something new to watch... This video is from April 10th.

Coasting Home

Hey everybody! It's Zach's Dad Kacy. I realize that I haven't written a blog in a while and consequently I have volumes and volumes of stories to tell. But since I'm still out of town, I'm going to momentarily leave out the descriptions of the diaper-twisting awesomeness Zach and I experienced during our trip and instead simply post some shots and maybe some video I took along the way.

In short the overall experience was totally tubular. I've daydreamed about taking this trip with my son for most of my adult life and I wasn't disappointed in the least.