A sucker born every minute

I think I now understand why so many people get addicted to cigarettes, snack foods, and Facebook. The problem might not stem from nicotine, salt or other habit-inducing chemicals. In fact, its roots may reach as far back as infancy, and we parents may be to blame for it. We’re the ones who introduced our children to their first addiction: the pacifier.

Kyle won't admit he has a pacifier problem; most babies don't. Yet he can’t go through a day without sucking on the thing. He needs it to relax. Each day, usually in the afternoon, Kyle must have a pacifier break. Without it, he gets restless and irritable. He wants to nap, but he can't unless he gets in a few sucks. Every day he tries to quit, but once he feels those powerful, daily stresses of being a baby (and there are a lot - from dropped toys to taxes), Kyle just caves in and demands pacifier relief. It's sad, really.

It wasn't always like this. A long time ago - say, early summer - we would let the kid cry until our eardrums would explode. We'd try to quiet him down by rocking him, swaddling him, or having him watch C-SPAN. These methods would work for a time, but eventually he'd start blowing out the windows again with his wails.

So we sought out new ways to calm our kid. Some people recommended soothing music. Others bought us toys or videos that gave off calming sounds or images. The most unique suggestion came from an older friend of ours, who told us that, when he was little, his mother would get him and his six brothers and sisters to be quiet at church by feeding them NyQuil beforehand (this is true). While we didn't question the effectiveness of this option, we did feel that maybe it was a bit illegal. And as we watched our friend leave us and walk right into a wall, we also wondered about the long-term effects of giving such a drug to a child.

We knew of the pacifier option, but we were hesitant to try it. Yet as time passed, we started to feel a greater pressure from others:

"Pssst. Have you tried one of these?"

"These will make you feel so good."
"C'mon, everybody's doing it. Don't be a wimp."

And that was just from my mother. Other relatives, parents, parenting blogs, neighbors, store clerks, and our landlady also pressured us to use a pacifier. Kyle's pediatrician wasn't too keen on the idea, but what does he know? It's not like HE has to listen to a crying kid all day!

So we tried it once, and there was instant silence. Suddenly I could hear things I wasn't hearing before: birds chirping, leaves rustling, the fire alarm. Kyle sat there with a smile on his face - or, at least it looked like a smile, since the pacifier covered his entire mouth. We had a pleasant afternoon, and then we used the pacifier again the next day for kicks. Within no time, Kyle was hooked, and now he often can't take a daytime nap without it.

Now our kid has the same addiction almost every other child has, and, from the looks of it, he could have this addiction for years to come. Then what's next? I'm not saying drugs. After all, I was given a pacifier when I was a kid and remain clean (unless you count the time I was in Texas from 2001-2003). However, I often have trouble stopping when I'm stuck next to the bowl of chips at some party. Candy's also a weakness of mine (I'm eating some Mike & Ike's as I write this), and I highly doubt that would be the case if I wasn't trained to rely on something at such a young age.

I suppose we could have tried to prevent Kyle's addiction by not giving him the pacifier, but eventually we'll be going to the playground or daycare, and then the baby gangs no doubt would have tried to give him one. There's no guarantee that he'd even know how to say "no" by then. So it's probably still best that we were the ones who introduced Kyle to the pacifier, and his first addiction.

And it's hard to argue... it certainly makes him look cool.

Prison break

During the past year, Jennifer and I have experienced a lot of firsts with Kyle: baby's first Christmas, baby's first inauguration, and baby's first Super Bowl, including baby's first 3-D commercials.

What happened on Friday, though, was a first we didn't expect to happen this soon. It was early afternoon, and I was sitting in a chair in the nursery as the little guy was seated in his crib. We were having a spirited debate about whether the president's stimulus package needed more infrastructure spending or tax cuts, when all of a sudden Kyle grabbed the crib bars and hoisted himself up to a standing position.

Had I been drinking anything, I would have been the one spitting up. Kyle had never done this before - in fact, we were just getting used to him sitting up on his own. Friday's development has us seriously thinking that it might be time to enroll in a savings plan to buy sneakers, as he'll have to be wearing them soon. It looks like Kyle could be planning to cut short the crawling stage and move right into the run-and-destroy-as-many-things-as-possible-(especially-the-TV) stage.

This development is a mixed blessing. While it's great to see Kyle advance, I'm sure we'll soon be missing out on a behavior we've been enjoying lately. Since he started sitting on his own a short time ago, Kyle has been able to stay in his crib without demanding our attention for well over his previous 5-minute limit. He's become Mommy and Daddy's little prisoner, quietly sitting behind bars until he's taken out to eat whatever slop we have to give him. This has given us some extra time to do important things, such as sleeping or catching up on our favorite TV shows. The rioting has gone down, too. In fact, we were planning to perhaps let him out on good behavior in about 5 years, but then Friday's incident happened.

As far as we know, Kyle has stood only once, but I have seen him try again and again. It's only a matter of time before he's standing all the time, and demanding to be taken out of the crib so he can stand on the floor. As soon as that happens, he'll be running everywhere. Then what's next? I fear it might be high jumps or kickboxing. I'll make sure to hide the TV.

Dad's best friend

When I was a kid, my home wasn't exactly a haven for pets. Sure, on occasion my parents would get us several goldfish, but I hardly have any fond memories of them. They never would greet me when I came home from school, and they'd keep flopping around whenever I'd try to take them out on a walk. Playing "roll over" with a goldfish always turned tragic. So I'm not a wealth of knowledge when it comes to pets, but perhaps my experiences with Kyle will give me some insight.

I say this because I've noticed that having a pet seems to give people some insight into having a child. Most of our friends and family members who have pets but no children have occasionally compared Kyle's behavior to the antics of their dogs or cats. Kyle's spit-up brings up memories of Felix's hairball problem, or Kyle's cries are like that time when Rex howled all night and ripped apart all the bedroom pillows with his teeth. I don't fault my friends and family in comparing their pets to our child. It's only natural to want to sympathize, and I give them credit for saying "of course having a pet is nothing like having a child" before they tell me how having a pet is like having a child. But the comparisons are way off-track, as Kyle in no way resembles any pet. You can see that from the pictures below. Here's one I took as I rubbed Kyle's belly (he loves it when you do this):



Here's Kyle rolling over:



Here he is on all fours, close enough to slobber you with all his drool:



And here he is in his new, furry cold-weather gear:



So I just don't get where all these pet comparisons are coming from. Maybe it's because we keep his food in a dish on the floor by the kitchen cabinets. But who doesn't? How else can the little guy reach his food?

Then again, maybe my pet owner friends are onto something. That wouldn't be so bad, since we are hoping to get a pet whenever we move to the suburbs, and perhaps having a child is good practice for that. Hmmmmm... I dunno. I still can't see myself comparing our baby to an animal. I guess that's just because I'm his dad, and it would be wrong for me to do that. Besides, I believe I already gained enough pet-owner training by being an older brother.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go take Kyle outside to play fetch.

Baby's first inauguration

Today, as I write this, the country has just sworn in a new leader. Barack Obama has become the 44th president of the United States. Kyle and I watched the inauguration together on television, and he was as riveted as I was by the ceremony. He may be too young to realize what is going on, but I had the feeling that he knows it was something important. He rarely sits still for that long in front of the TV without crying, wiggling, or spitting up on his clean clothes.

Jennifer and I have been thinking of just what this presidency could mean for Kyle. If Obama is successful, he will likely be a two-term president, which would mean that Kyle will be eight years old when he steps down. Obama could very well be the first president Kyle remembers, perhaps the one he writes to in first grade. To Kyle, Barack Obama will be Superman.

Although I was born during the Carter years, Ronald Reagan is the first president I remember. He was my Superman. The big guy with the perfectly-molded black hair had superpowers to fight bad guys like the Soviets or Lex Luthor, while still finding time to talk to school kids and eat jelly beans. To a kid, the president can do no wrong. He more than represents America - he IS America.

So it's incredible to think that the person Kyle will likely adore during his first years of life will be the nation's first African-American president. He probably won't realize the significance of this. To him, having a minority as president won't be anything unusual, just like we, the children of the 80's, grew up accepting that a pope can be Polish, the Japanese can make great electronics, and Darth Vader was Luke's father. Barack Obama is just Kyle's president, and nothing more. Isn't that great?

Indeed, change has come to America, and I'm hopeful my son will live in a country that better accepts differences, and treats people equally. We've always heard that anyone can become president - today we actually saw some proof of that. Maybe... just maybe... someday we'll have the first president named Kyle. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Baby, it's cold outside

When I became a stay-at-home dad, I don't think I realized just how much staying at home I'd be doing. During our first few months with Kyle, we almost always found ways to get out of the apartment. We'd walk around the neighborhood or spend long days at the city parks, watching the rats chase the squirrels. But that was July, August and September. There's a reason why there are not many songs written about New York in January. With the temperatures dropping faster than our stocks, even the squirrels are fleeing the city for vacations in the Bahamas.

This week, temperatures have been in the low 30's and mid-20's, and they're supposed to fall into the single digits by Friday, with a windchill that can't be measured because the wind itself is frozen. It's not exactly safe weather for a baby, unless your kid's an Eskimo; in that case, it's just mild chilly - not a beach day, unless the sun's out. Sure, I could bundle Kyle up with an inhuman amount of clothing, as I did last week when New York's alternate-side parking rules forced me to move the car...

... but he doesn't like that too much.

So, Kyle and I have been spending much of the winter staying indoors and getting to know each other. We play a lot of games, and sometimes I let him win one or two. The screaming and silly noise contests are his favorite. He's still working on his speech - he now makes "wah, wah" noises like he's the backup singer to a 1950's band - but words will come with time. So will his abilities to walk and shovel. I'm looking forward to the shoveling part. Just look what happened to our car several winters ago:



In just a few years, I'll be able to have Kyle dig that out for me. Isn't that what having a kid is all about? I suppose I could have him practice now. Maybe I should bury one of his toys in a couple of pounds of rice cereal, and then teach him how to dig it out without hurting his back. And then next year I could take him around the neighborhood and show him all the people shoveling the sidewalks and tell him how much fun they're having. Later he'll watch me shovel out the car, and I'll laugh the whole time because it's such a joy. If I plant that idea in his head early enough, he might want to shovel out our car by the time he's old enough (and the driveway, too, if we have one by then).

Yet the next time we get snow I'll have to shovel it alone. I'll have to wait 'til Jennifer gets home, too, so she can watch over the little guy. Until then, Kyle and I will be sitting inside, keeping warm and competing with each other to see who can make the worst smell. And, if he dares to sleep a little longer than a half hour, I might even get some writing done. Taking care of Kyle, especially in the winter, is a lot of work, and it's nice to get a break every now and then to enjoy my hobby/profession. As they say, all work and no play makes Dave a dull boy. All work and play makes Dave a dull boy. All work and no play makes Dave a dull boy....