Last week we put more than 1500 miles on the new car, traveling to North Carolina and back. Driving gave us more flexibility than flying, and we didn't have to spend Kyle's college savings on airfare. It was a risky trip, with Jennifer being less than three months away from giving birth. Fortunately, she had no difficulty. She said the drive was more comfortable than our trips in the Corolla, which is not surprising, since the Corolla was a low-budget, no-frills model, and its seats were made out of rocks. When Jennifer was pregnant with Kyle, her back would start hurting almost immediately after I turned the ignition. This time she felt fine most of the way down to the Tar Heel State.
Kyle did well, too. He enjoys traveling, especially when he has a bag full of books at his disposal. He no longer needs us to read them to him, as he prefers to just thumb through the stories, pretending to read aloud as he looks at the pictures. I was happy with this development, since it's hard to read children's books and drive at the same time. Kyle's new window seat also made the trip more enjoyable. When he was not reading books or napping, he loved to look out the window and point at the many roadside attractions, including cows, water towers, and billboards featuring erotic dancers.
This was a very good trip for Kyle. He was able to escape the city for a little while and see what makes the South so special: the good ol' Southern hospitality, excellent food (which he didn't eat), homes with yards, and free parking lots. Kyle also spent a great deal of time with other kids, including his 10-month-old cousin. We were happy the two got along, since this might be a preview of what will happen when Kyle gets a younger brother. Of course, Kyle's attitude towards babies might change once he has one waking him up throughout the night. Mine certainly did, and I'm just now starting to forgive our son.
Last week the little guy wore a suit for the first time. He was the ring-bearer in a wedding, which meant he had to look impressive as he walked down the aisle in front of family and friends. The job also enabled him to spend a great deal of time with the flower girls. As I said already, this was a very good trip for Kyle. For much of the wedding and reception, I didn't even know where he was, as he followed the girls everywhere. They played games together, ran around our dinner table, and even practiced some new dance moves:
Kyle was fine after his spill. He wasn't hurt physically, though he did bring shame to himself and the entire family. Apparently he struck out with the flower girls, too, as they have yet to return any of his phone calls.
As for me, I also had a great time being far away from the city, where there are wide open spaces between houses and highways without potholes. I came very close to embracing the suburbs, but then, towards the end of the week, I tried venturing outside for my afternoon coffee fix and became stuck at an intersection when traffic prevented me from making a left turn. At that point I realized that I don't want to move out of the city anytime soon. I like being able to walk to my destination. While I certainly enjoyed driving the new car around, I'm glad it will be parked for the next few days.
Ever since I wrote that entry a few weeks ago about Kyle's obsession with numbers, I have received thousands upon thousands of letters, postcards, and credit card applications, most of them asking what Kyle's impersonation of a subway sounds like. Well, my friends, you are in luck. I recorded him doing that sound a couple months ago, after I inspected the windows he washed. Here it is:
This week the family is taking the subway to North Carolina, making all local stops. There's a good chance you'll read something about it in my next post. Have a great week!
I turned 33 on Thursday. I remember when Boston Celtics legend Larry Bird turned 33, in part because the media said his age finally caught up to his number. They made a big deal of this because Larry Bird was OLD. His feet needed surgery, his back was falling apart, and he'd get halfway to the basket and then forget why he was there. Bird was in the "twilight" of his career and would retire three years later. Nobody has heard from him since.
Of course, 33 is old for a basketball player. I guess I could now say my dream of playing for the NBA is now officially over. At least I still have time for Major League Baseball. To be honest, turning 33 did not make me feel old. Having a kid nearly three years ago did. And now I'm bracing for another one. I think I pulled a back muscle just thinking about that.
Fortunately, even an old guy like myself can still have some fun, and on Saturday I went out with friends to celebrate. Jennifer and I hired a sitter for the night, one we've used a few times now (she's very skilled and terrific with Kyle). Our close friends Matt & Amanda and Mickey & Bonni also found sitters for their kids. That meant the three couples were able to have a kid-free night at Dinosaur, an excellent barbecue restaurant in Manhattan (and excellent barbecue is not easy to find around these parts).
While everyone had a great time, the night was different for each of the couples, depending on their varying stages of parenting. The newest parents of the bunch, Mickey and Bonni, have a girl who's almost three months old. Parting with a child that small is at times heartbreaking, even if you're leaving the child just to get a leftover sandwich out of the fridge. Mickey said they missed her as soon as they left their apartment to head to the restaurant. They weren't worried because she was getting plenty of love from Mickey's mother, but once the night was over they were eager to return home. It was cute.
Matt and Amanda (seen to the left with my lovely wife Jennifer) have an eight-month-old boy. It's a fun age for a kid to be. Their little guy is not a tiny fragile baby anymore, and he's been moving around, exploring things and trying to become friends with their dog. By now, Matt and Amanda have left their child with a sitter several times. Like Mickey and Bonni, they miss their little guy, but they're now used to leaving him every now and then. Yet there's always the concern that something might go wrong, and parents with an eight-month-old still want to make sure they can be reached at all times. Matt's phone was on the table all night, and he occasionally glanced down to make sure he didn't somehow miss a call.
Meanwhile, Jennifer's phone was on vibrate and buried under a pile of coats. We were practically halfway through the meal before we realized that. My phone had been tucked deep in my pocket, where it's sometimes impossible to hear, especially in loud restaurants. Good thing the sitter knew where we were having dinner, so she could have had us paged if Kyle suddenly became a pyromaniac.
Don't get me wrong: we still miss our child when we go out, especially if it's for a while, and often we can't help but talk about him. And, yes, we often do leave a phone out in case the sitter calls us. Yet I think we've just become so used to leaving him with others that it's becoming easier for us to get caught up in the night out. Sharing an evening with these great friends certainly helped, too.
Does that mean I'm no longer a new parent? Hmmmmm... that might be true. Wow. NOW I feel old.
So, against the advice of our family and friends, we bought a minivan. Kinda. On Saturday we said "good-bye" to our old, reliable, and cramped Toyota Corolla, and "hello" to a new, but almost as cramped, Mazda5. It's like a minivan, elf-sized. To see what I mean, take a look at this picture, which I took as we were still researching vehicles:
The auto on the right is a regular, whale-sized minivan. The one on the left is the Mazda5. From bumper to bumper, it's practically the same length as my old Corolla (as least it looked that way when they were parked next to each other), and yet it still has third-row seating. Some reviewers have called it a "microvan," and right now there are no other vehicles like it on the market (I hear Ford is coming out with one later this year, but we couldn't wait that long to check it out). Mazda's website says the 5 "refuses to be categorized." That refusal, though, apparently had no impact on the vehicle's own window sticker, which categorized it as a minivan.
So, yes, technically, the Mazda5 is a minivan, but at least it feels like I'm driving a regular-sized car, and not a mobile home. I can park it on the street without having to put two wheels up on the car behind it. Its passengers will still eat their knees, just like they did in the Corolla, but now we can seat six knee-eaters, instead of four-and-a-half. That was important to us, since two spots will be permanently occupied by car seats. There was no way that the Corolla was going to be able to handle two car seats, especially a rear-facing one, which, according to the new guidelines from the American Academy of Pediatrics, is now recommended for children up to the age of 25. Kyle already likes his new seat by the window, and he's pleased with the color, which is not red (see my earlier auto-themed post). Plus, the Mazda5 does come with standard features that I couldn't afford when I purchased the Corolla, back when I was still eating ramen noodles for lunch regularly. Among those features: power locks, power windows, automatic climate control, and intermittent windshield wipers. Yes, for ten-an-a-half-years, every time I drove my Corolla through a drizzle storm, I would have to hit the wipers on-and-off every now and then, as if my arm were having spasms.
A decade is a long time to own a car, and it was probably time for the Corolla to go, anyway. I can't say it was an easy decision, as there are a lot of memories associated with that car. I purchased it a day before my first date with Jennifer, in fact. The car is the reason why I almost didn't get a second date. I was so excited about my newly-discovered haggling skills that I wouldn't stop talking about the whole purchasing experience. She wondered if she could put up with another night of that, never mind ten-plus years. Fortunately for me, she didn't listen to her conscience, and I wowed her by the sixth date.
Not too long after that, Jennifer and I took our first of many road trips in that car. It eventually traveled the entire east coast, from the shores of Destin, Florida, to the wharfs of Boothbay Harbor, Maine. In 2003 we drove the Corolla from Atlanta to North Carolina, and then drove it back three weeks later, as newlyweds. A few months after that we drove it from Atlanta to New York City, arriving at night and seeing the dazzling skyline through the windshield, realizing, with a bit of anxiety, that this would now be our home. In August of 2008, Kyle would sit in the same car and take his first road trip to see his grandparents.
We drove the Corolla from New York to Boston late one October night in 2004 so that we could the Red Sox World Series victory parade the next morning. In March of 2007, we spent six hours in it with our friends Matt and Amanda, when a snow/ice storm turned a two-hour drive to Mohegan Sun into a traffic nightmare. The car provided an escape for Jennifer and I each year, as we would take it to the Catskills to celebrate our anniversary. And on September 11th, 2001, I was in the Corolla, driving to my job at CNN, when I first heard that we were under attack. I was so stunned, I don't know how I kept my foot on the gas to keep moving on the Atlanta freeway.
The Corolla made it through countless storms, blizzards, and even a tornado. It survived poorly-maintained roads in Atlanta and New York, and it muscled its way through three years of law school, getting Jennifer there and back safely. It was infested with ants only once, and it had never been in a crash, although it came close when an entire bumper from another car flew into our lane during a trip to Massachusetts. The Corolla had excellent steering and brakes, and I certainly was grateful for that. I also appreciated its cassette player, which was still working as of last weekend (we had used it with an adapter for the iPod). Most likely I will never again have a car with a cassette player. There goes one more connection to the 80's and 90's, and my youth. Dear God, did I just buy a minivan?
So, yes, we will miss the Corolla. I'm not even sure what to call our new car: the Five? the Mazda? the Insane Asylum? (after all, we will be traveling in it with two young boys) We definitely won't say it's the "minivan," as I, too, refuse to categorize it as such, and am probably in denial. We are awfully excited about the vehicle and the new chapter in our lives it represents. There soon will be plenty of memories associated with the Mazda5. Yet it's hard to part with something that's been a part of our lives for so long. Saturday night, Jennifer remarked that it was rather sad to think of our Corolla sitting alone in some parking lot, either at the dealership or someplace else. I also felt that way, almost sorry for the Corolla, especially in the week leading up to our big purchase. But then I remembered an Ikea commercial I had seen several years ago. I've found it online and attached it below (those of you who get e-mail updates might have to visit daveweekly.com to see it). It certainly puts things in perspective.
It's been a lot of fun to go on walks with my son through our neighborhood. I've been doing this sort of thing almost daily for more than two-and-a-half years, staying in only if we have heavy rain, snow, tornadoes, or a high number of pollsters. Until recently, Kyle had observed block after block of brownstones and other buildings without saying much about them. Occasionally he'd want to go up on a stoop or open a gate, but otherwise he left most homes alone. That was until the middle of last month, when he noticed the NUMBERS.
It was my fault. I am always looking for new ways to make Kyle enjoy these walks outside, in part so I don't feel guilty dragging him out there just so I could feed my afternoon coffee addiction (it's the only way I know how to survive the toddler years). I'd point out trees, cars, fire hydrants, and the occasional mugging, but nothing seemed to get the little guy excited. Then, without thinking, I pointed to the addresses of the buildings.
"Can you read that?" I asked about one of them. I knew that Kyle already knew numbers, as I taught them to him very early on, when I was doing anything to get him away from those annoyingly loud baby toys. Kyle stared at the number.
"EIGHT! SIX! NINE! THREE!" He was close. The number was 398. It seemed at first that my kid has trouble with his 6's and 9's, and might be a bit dyslexic. But after a few more tries, he started getting the numbers right. And that's when it struck him: the numbers are everywhere!
Since then, every time we have gone out for a walk, Kyle has paused by each stoop to read off the address number. As you can imagine, it's a very slow process, but one he absolutely loves. Instead of going out for coffee, he now says we're going out "to look at numbers." There's nothing like a child's happiness, so I give in. In the meantime, Kyle has found ways to make these trips last even longer. He now wants to climb up onto the first step of each stoop, probably to get a better look at the address. Then he rattles off some nonsense before he shouts out the number, like a drumroll before we find out what's behind door number two:
"Digga digga digga DOO-doo! FOUR! SEVEN! FIVE!"
That "DOO-doo" sound is his impression of the noise the subway makes before closing its doors. Somehow that has found its way into much of Kyle's conversations these days. After he finishes reading the number, Kyle then takes a minute or so to get off the step. Then he runs to the next home and does it all again. What was once a twenty-minute walk to a coffee shop now takes three days. Before the numbers, I would pick up my coffee and then go the long way home so that I could finish drinking it during the walk with Kyle. Now every way home is the long way home. For this reason alone we're not having Kyle take us to the hospital on his brother's delivery day...
Jennifer: "The contractions are happening more rapidly! We have to go!"
Kyle: "Digga digga digga DOO-doo! TWO! EIGHT! FOUR!"
Jennifer: "I don't know if we're going to make it! The baby's coming!"
Kyle: "Digga digga digga DOO-doo! TWO! EIGHT! NINE-ummm-SIX!"
Jennifer: "Kyle, move it! We've been out here for an hour, and we're still just a block from our home!"
Kyle: "Digga digga digga DOO-doo! TWO! EIGHT! EIGHT!"
I have to admit: it's fun to watch my son get so excited about numbers. He probably won't get this worked up over numbers until he's an astrophysicist or an all-star pitcher studying his opponent's statistics. At that point, he probably won't be taking as many walks with dear old dad. So until this ends, I think I'll enjoy the long trips to get coffee. I'm just glad he's doing this now, at the end of winter.
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