Sharin' in the Groove

We have safely returned home from Tick Tour 2009, and not a minute too soon. Despite our best efforts, we didn't actually score any new Lyme ticks, however with all of the family attention over the last week and a half, Finn's head has swelled to dangerous levels -- even after the hair removal. With all of the Grandparent/Aunt/Uncle/Cousin doting, I'm afraid we may never again be able to fit that amazing sun hat on his little noggin.

As such, this is likely the last picture of him wearing his exceptional headgear, taken on Weekapaug Beach in RI, the site of Mommy & Daddy's wedding.


I'd say that Finn looks just like his Daddy without his shirt on, but we all know that he's got way more muscles than me. Even if we do share the same beer gut.

Fact: pale, skinny, fat guys pull wicked chicks.

As always, the trip back east was far too short. Big thanks to G'ma and G'pa Parker, Mema Finn and Grandpa Finn. Even though our travels took us across 3 states in 11 days, this was by far the most relaxing vacation that we've taken as a family and it was extremely sad to come home. It got far less sad once Finn started crying the minute we got on the plane in Newark; then it was just painful. But the crying was short-lived, the sleep was long (from 8 pm EDT until 7 am PDT) and we're now back to normal.

Just in time for Finn's wiener surgery tomorrow.

Now that I'm back on a real computer, I'll try to give a more complete rundown of what's going on/has recently gone on with the Ninja over the next couple of weeks. Anything to take my mind off of what I'm putting my son through tomorrow.

Dear future Finn: Don't hate us for making you go through with this procedure. We're doing this for you and your future girlfriends/ex-wives. Trust me, you'll all thank us for this some day.

Waterbaby

Proving that he's definitely his mother's child, Finn has spent every minute that it hasn't been storming here - all 3 of them - in the pool.

In anticipation of this, his Grandma Parker got him this fancy pool float.



Notice how well it matches that exceptionally masculine sun hat. What a stud. He's got all the Grandmas by the pool swooning, first in NY and now in CT.

We leave for Rhode Island tomorrow, but there's no pool there. I wonder if that thing is seaworthy.

-- Post From The Windward Side

Finny's first haircut

Turns out that mobile blogging causes thumb fatigue, which cripples my online poker career so I apologize for not letting y'all know that we survived the rest of the flight in. And in solid shape, all things considered.

We're all in one piece, though some of us are slightly smaller than we started in the golden flowing locks department. It took Mema's steady hands to finally remove the wings from our little featherhead. We were too worried that we'd shear off his ears.

Just when you thought he couldn't get any cuter...



-- Post From Mema's Barber Shop

And we thought Seattle was rainy

Pop quiz: What's better than a 5 hr flight from Seattle to Newark with a baby?

Give up?

How about a 5 hr flight that's diverted to Syracuse due to thunderstorms, with (hopefully only) 3 hours on the tarmac, before compleing the final hour to Newark. With a baby.

If that baby were anyone other than Finn, I'd be jumping out the back and making a break for it, but the Ninja is handling it well.

Here's mommy sticking a spider on his face to distract him. Let's hope he doesn't get bored with the spider or it's going to get ugly. For mommy, that is.



-- Posted From The Syracuse Tarmac

Mobile blogging

In preparation for our big trip on Friday, I've downloaded a blogging app for the iPhone and this is the maiden post. Of course it was difficult to turn off the Yankee game to type this since they're actually winning for a change, but I make big sacrifices for my kid.

Whom I've now lost sight of.

Never mind. There he is standing on the window seat. See?



Impressive. He got up there all by himself. I did mention he's a big climber now, no?

Now if you'll excuse me I need to go post on Facebook about his impending fall. Does anyone know if I can get a doctor via Twitter?

This is quality parenting, 21st century style.

Dad's Day

Father's Day was everything that it is supposed to be. I got to sleep in (8 AM!), I had coffee hand delivered and I spent the day at a baseball game with my family. Finn was considerate enough to change his nap schedule for the day to free up our afternoon and he made it all the way until the 8th inning before we had to split. I don't care what was happening on the field, that was a major victory.

The only part that didn't go as planned was when Drew folded him up in the chair. In Drew's defense, he didn't see Finn standing on the chair next to him. Or maybe he did see him and Finn's first complete sentence was, "The Tarheels suck." Either way, one minute we were all enjoying the baseball game, the next minute Finn is staring at the sky and kissing his kneecaps. I'm sure he deserved it.

This picture was taken just pre-folding. You can totally see the wheels turning in Drew's head.


So a happy belated Father's Day to all the dads out there and a big shout-out to Kitty and the little guy that makes it possible for me to enjoy the holiday. I'm an extremely lucky dude, as I am reminded daily.

Now let's hope that luck holds as we prep for a cross-country flight on Friday...

Terribe, horrible, no good, very bad

With Finn's increased level of activity and seemingly incessant need to get all up in everything's business, comes a whole new level of mess. We barely washed this kid when he was a baby, but now it seems like he needs to be hosed down daily. He comes back from daycare soaking wet and muddy. He exits dinner covered in Ranch dressing and whatever healthy food the dressing was trying to mask. You can't tell where he ends and the pile of vegetables under his chair begins.

Even though he loves bathtime in the tub, running a bath every night always seems like too much work, so we mix it up periodically with a shower. This is a two person job. One person to hold him in the shower and one person to run around the outside of the shower curtain playing peek-a-boo. I drew the peek-a-boo card tonight which meant I was also on drying duty.

After a nice shower, there's nothing I enjoy more than doing laps around the house naked and it turns out that Finn is into that too. I figured I'd let him run around a bit while I got his diaper & PJ's ready. Bad idea #1.

I didn't notice the pile of poop on his floor until he had already stepped in it and was tracking it back toward the bathroom. I quickly scooped Finn up and threw him back in the shower with his mom. Bad idea #2.

We have an old claw-foot iron tub upstairs, and while quaint & cute, it doesn't really drain very quickly. Since Finn's feet were covered in poo, this now meant that the shower water remaining in the tub was slowly turning brown. Eager to begin trying to bleach her feet, Kitty washed Finn quickly then set him down outside the tub while I continued scrubbing the carpet with toilet paper (extremely effective). Bad idea #3.

Finn took off down the hall again, still unencumbered by any sort of poop prevention device. Knowing that he often saves "the best" for last, Kitty frantically tried to call him back to the bathroom; calls he ignored. When he finally decided to listen, he ran back to the bathroom at full speed down the hall, only to slip on the now soaking wet floor and lay out flat on his back, thunking the back of his head soundly on the floor.

The scene is now: me on hands & knees scrubbing poop out of carpet with fraying toilet paper; Kitty in shower, standing in poo water; Finn laying on his back on the floor, naked, screaming at the top of his lungs. Awesome.

Luckily, the tile is cork and the baby's head is apparently concrete and/or lead so no permanent damage appears to have been done to anything other than our nerves. And perhaps the carpet. Luckily we're still on a diaper service, so from here on out, I can just carpet the upstairs in cloth diapers for bath time.

I don't have a picture of Finn and poop, so here's a picture of Finn and Aunt Holly.

Hmm. Perhaps I could have phrased that better.