My Buddy and Me

This week is bittersweet for me.  It's the last week before Jennifer begins her maternity leave.  While I am thrilled to soon have her here full-time, and to welcome into the world our second child, this is the last full week of just Kyle and me.  By the time maternity leave ends, Kyle will be going to nursery school.

It's that whole old vs. new thing again.  We've been dealing with it a lot this year, and we have even more to come (for example, our neighbor, Kyle's best friend right now, moves to Colorado next week, and Kyle's babysitter moves to Maine in August).  It can be difficult at times.  Yet, it's unavoidable.  Change will happen, change must happen, change can be fun and the greatest thing that could ever happen to us.  Though we are often excited about the future, there's still that little tug that says, "Yeah, but what you have now is coming to an end."  I like what I have now.  I like it a lot. 

In three short years, Kyle has transformed from a crying/eating/pooping machine into my buddy.  We joke together, we can talk about our day, we build train tracks, we wrestle from time to time, and we occasionally debate religion and politics.  Kyle has really matured.  Many times it's fun doing things with him, and whenever that happens, the time flies and I almost feel as if we're just a couple friends hanging out.  At those times, I just love being a dad.

Naturally, in this final week of just him and me, Kyle has chosen to throw me a curve ball.  He has not napped since last Wednesday.  If this is the start of something permanent, then June 1, 2011, will be a day of infamy in our household.  When Kyle refuses to nap, his behavior goes sour. He whines often, fights with me, and starts testing the limits of what he can do.  He throws things.  He rips things.  He roots for the Yankees.  He even starts hitting me, and, as he gets closer to age three (Monday's his birthday), that sort of thing actually hurts. I also lose my sanity break and my writing time, which makes me all the more irritable as the day winds down.  I have trouble getting things done, and sometimes it's hard to even think.  Even though Kyle and I have had our fun moments, it's been a rough last week.  Maybe that's a good thing, since it's making me less nostalgic and even more excited to have Jennifer here next week. It's much easier to have a second person to help with a kid refusing to nap.

But then it's on to a new routine, and, in two weeks, a larger family.  A new home is around the corner, too (more on that next month - stay tuned!).  Then there's nursery school this fall.  I wonder how Kyle will react to all this change.  His mommy is going to be home full-time for a while as new people and places will enter his life.  What we have right now, this time when it's just the two of us, is coming to an end.  Sure, we'll have many more moments together, but it won't be as regular as it is now.  So far, Kyle has done well with adapting.  There's a good chance this change will affect me more than it will affect him.  In many ways, I hope that's the case.

I am looking forward to change.  I can't wait to meet my new son.  I'm excited that Jennifer will be home for several months.  It's going to be a ton of adjustment, and those first weeks with a newborn will be very tiring, but I know I will experience some of the greatest moments of my life during the next few months.  For now, though, I think I'll savor the last couple days I have alone with just my buddy.

Wasn't Born Yesterday

I really had my doubts about this past weekend.  With Jennifer just weeks away from giving birth, I was starting to think that taking an eight-hour road trip was probably not the best idea, especially if I had no intention of delivering the baby myself.  But our close friends Chad and Nicole were getting married on Saturday in Wheeling, West Virginia (home of Gumby's Cigarette & Beer World), and we didn't want to miss it.  We decided it was worth taking the chance, even if it meant sitting in nearly two hours of traffic... just to get to the Holland Tunnel.


(Above: Kyle finds a good spot in the hotel
for the bassinet... just in case)

So began Operation Do Not Give Birth.  Our mission was to get to West Virginia and back with only one child in the back seat.  For a while, I considered preparing for the possibility that our baby could be born during our crazy trip, and I intended to put together a list of the hospitals along the way, just in case we needed to rush to one.  A friend of mine also suggested printing out information about delivery so that I'd be all set should I have to deliver the baby myself at a rest stop.  I didn't like the thought of delivering our child myself, or delivering him at a rest stop, or even worse: delivering him at a rest stop in New Jersey.  The thought of that was so appalling that we became determined to not have this baby this weekend.  We decided that we'd skip on all the prep and just avoid the three major things that, according to rumor, may induce labor: dancing, stress and potholes.

BA-BOOM!  BA-BOOM!  BA-BOOM!  Okay, so we couldn't avoid the potholes.  Apparently New Jersey and Pennsylvania get their roads paved by the same people who do New York's streets.  Great stretches of highway looked as if workers had dug trenches there and then filled them up when they realized that the fighting was happening overseas.  There were bumps every few feet, stretching across the entire lane, making them almost impossible to miss.  Our little guy shifted around, but still didn't feel the time was right.  Phew!

BA-BOOM!  BA-BOOM!  BA-BOOM!  We couldn't avoid the severe weather, either, and that caused a bit of stress.  It was just before 10 p.m. Friday night, as we were on the road near Harrisburg, when the beautiful lightning display we had been seeing turned into Armageddon.  A waterfall burst from the sky, pounding our car and everything surrounding us.  Within seconds we were practically floating on water.  I think I saw a submarine pass by us on the interstate, but it was very hard to see anything at all.  We took the next available exit, and as we contemplated staying at the local hotel/trucker hook-up spot, the rain suddenly turned into a pleasant mist.  We went back on the highway and continued for another hour or so, and the stress had no impact on the baby-to-be.  Phew!

BA-BOOM!  BA-BOOM!  BA-BOOM!  Then came the live wedding band.  That was perhaps the most dangerous part.  We made it to Wheeling without incident, only to play with fire after the nuptials.  While I spent most of the reception chasing after Kyle (who chose to turn the reception into a triathlon practice), Jennifer took a quick spin on the dance floor.  By taking a spin, I don't mean she did anything wild and crazy, like break dancing.  While that would have been fun to watch, it probably wouldn't have been good for the baby or our mission.  No, Jennifer just stood there, swaying her arms and moving slightly.  Her plan worked perfectly, and, by the time we returned to the hotel, there were no signs of labor.  Phew!

The drive home went smoothly, except for the aforementioned potholes.  We held our breath through New Jersey, partly because of our desire not to have a baby there, and partly because of the air pollution.  Once we hit New York City, we celebrated.  Mission accomplished!  Our kid's going to be a New Yorker after all.  We got home - just the three of us - and had an uneventful evening.  So, no baby yet.  He will arrive this month, but hopefully, when that time comes, we'll be in a hospital with Jennifer's doctor right there.

Fliers on the Storm

The weather here in the Northeast is so hard to predict.  From day to day, you can never be sure what it'll bring.  Just spin the roulette wheel, and carry an umbrella and sunblock.  What will it be?  Rain?  Snow?  Hail?  In-laws? 

We had an in-law shower Wednesday night.  Jennifer's dad (also named Dave) and his wife Ruth were taking a trip from North Carolina to the Czech paradise known as Prague, with a stop at New York's own paradise, JFK airport.  The plane to Prague left without a problem.  Unfortunately, it departed BEFORE my in-laws arrived at JFK.  A storm had caused them to make an additional stop in Baltimore.  By the time my in-laws landed in New York, their flight was gone, the nearby hotels were booked, and airport's public address system was playing a Barry Manilow marathon.  My in-laws needed to get out of there fast.  They gave us a call to see if they could stay here.  We told them we had a bed for them, but that would mean putting Kyle out in the rain.  Fortunately for the little guy, they were willing to use our sleeper sofa.  They arrived after midnight, and we started getting ready for bed by around 1:30 a.m.

The next morning our son was up at 6 a.m., about an hour earlier than normal.  He must of sensed that we had gone to bed late.  It's long been his goal to make us as tired as absolutely possible.  That way we break easily, and Kyle gets to see more "Thomas the Train" on TV.  This time around, Kyle received an even better treat: Grandpa and Ruthie.  Once he learned they were here, he started bouncing off the walls, which made it all the more difficult to keep him quiet so that our travel-weary guests could sleep.  Eventually our son was let loose, and he was soon spoiled with far more attention than Jennifer and I could give him, as it was way too early to do anything but walk slowly and drool.

Kyle showed Grandpa and Ruthie his new toy box.  He showed them his toys.  He buried Grandpa in books.  He sang songs.  He talked about the numbers on the buildings outside.  He had them read him stories.  He played catch.  He colored with crayons.  He ran around in circles.  He did everything he could to squeeze a week's worth of activities into the few hours he had with Grandpa and Ruthie.  They seemed to love every minute of it, and so did the little guy.  I drank lots of coffee.

It was a busy day, but being a sudden host wasn't bad at all, even though I was so tired I had trouble remembering a) where the best lunch spot is and b) to wear pants to this lunch spot.  In the end, I had a few extra coffee cups to wash, but Dave and Ruth were gracious guests.  Besides, Dave's been through this sort of thing before.  You may remember that he ended up spending a few extra days here because of a surprise blizzard at Christmastime.  I'm starting to think he may be cursed.  Sure, he and Ruth made it to Europe without incident on Thursday, but now there's a volcano in Iceland spewing ash all over the place and disrupting some air travel on the continent... just in time for their return trip.  Hopefully it won't be an issue for them.  No matter what, next time my in-laws fly, even if it's to Boise, I'll make sure we have clean sheets ready.

Down Under

We are now deep into May, and it has come to my attention that we have a second child arriving sometime next month.  Turns out Jennifer's expanding torso is not due to the mounds of candy we received at Easter.  There's someone moving in there - I've seen a leg or arm or knee try to poke through.  I suppose it's about time we prepare for his arrival, especially if he's like some of my relatives who always arrive early to an occasion.

This past weekend we took a few major steps to make our home ready for the little guy.  Jennifer sorted through some of Kyle's infant clothes that somehow survived his amazing ability to stain.  Meanwhile, I tinkered with the old crib, making it suitable for a baby once again by raising its mattress.  I didn't realize I would also be creating a fort.

Once the complex operation was finished, we let Kyle back into the room.  He looked at the crib with a huge smile.  "Under the crib" he said, and he immediately grabbed a book and slid under it.  He then spent much of the evening there.  When the crib was low enough for Kyle to sleep in it, he barely had enough space to have fun beneath it.  The best he could do was to lay flat and slide himself under without raising his head any more than an inch off the ground.  Though the space was limited, Kyle still had fun doing this.  We approved because it was easier to have him slide around than to dust under there.  Now, with the mattress moved higher, Kyle can actually sit beneath it, and suddenly he has a new favorite spot.

After checking out his new digs, the little guy "read" aloud some of the great works of literature, including Thomas the Train: Little Engines Can Do BIG Things by Charles Dickens. "Read" is in quotes because he's just flipping pages and saying, "bigga bigga bigga big-KA."  I guess that's what I sound like when I read him a story just before bedtime.  Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right?  Once he was done reading, Kyle played with some of his toys and then installed lighting and a refrigerator.  I hear he's already having mail forwarded to his new place, and he is contemplating buying a hot tub for it.  He's going to be very disappointed once his brother learns how to sit up and I have to move the mattress back down.

This unexpected development makes me wonder what will happen when we do other things to prepare for the baby.  When I install the infant car seat, will Kyle use it as a snack holder?  Will he use baby bottles as binoculars?  Will he use the bouncy seat to fling himself above the fridge to reach the cookie jar?  These are all things I suppose I should now consider.  With June arriving fast, I guess we'll get these answers soon enough.

All Work and No Playground

It has been absolutely beautiful outside.  The sun has been shining, there's a pleasant breeze, and the city isn't quite hot enough to start smelling like garbage.  It's rare to say this in New York, but few would disagree: the weather has been perfect.

Ever since becoming a parent, this has been "prison break" time.  No longer are we cornered in our apartment, waiting for the snow/sleet/hail/locusts to subside.  Once spring arrives, we can go outside and do some much-needed time-killing.  And whenever I start thinking, "what on earth am I going to do with this hyper-crazy child?" there's always a fail-safe option: the playground!

My son loves the playground.  He loves the swings.  He loves the bouncy bridge.  He loves the slide.  He loves the dead leaves and worms lying around.  He loves just running around and being carefree.  I love watching him have fun without draining my own energy.  It would be better, however, if the playground had a mini-bar.  Despite its imperfections, I had been a huge fan of my son's favorite playground, especially since it's just a couple blocks from my home.  It would be no problem to take Kyle there quickly whenever I needed to eat up a half-hour or so of time.

Not anymore.  Kyle is no longer welcome there:

Nor is any other kid, in fact.  As part of Mike Bloomberg's "Kids Have It Too Easy These Days" initiative, the local playground has been shut down and boxed in by a chain link fence topped with barbed wire.  Angry, hungry rottweilers patrol the grounds to prevent any toddlers from wandering in, and the city plans to build a moat once it raises enough money from laying off thousands of teachers.  With the children kept out, workers can demolish the playground and build a casino there.

(Above: Some of the city's renovations,
including the new "slide that goes nowhere")

Okay, that's not entirely the truth.  The city is actually renovating the playground, which would be great if I still thought we'd be living here when it's finally complete.  The way these public works things go, both my kids could be college graduates by time this is done, and that would mean they'd look funny going down the children's slide.  So, basically, we lost our playground.

Let me clarify that: we've lost our very close playground.  We live in a neighborhood that has more playgrounds than bagel shops, which is quite impressive considering this is New York.  Two other playgrounds are just ten-minute walks away, so they're not incredibly far.  But I can't just "pop" over there if Kyle wakes from his nap early and starts playing "fling the cookbooks."  Yes, I am grateful to still have several playgrounds around, as my suburbanite friends don't have such luxuries within walking distance.  Then again, my suburbanite friends have yards.

Oh well, I suppose I could deal with it.  We'll adjust.  This has been a big year of change anyway.  Some things, like the new car, have already happened.  Other things, such as the big baby arrival next month, loom ahead of us.  In the grand scheme of things, I suppose losing a playground isn't a big deal, even if I'll miss it.  So what if I lose my go-to time-killer spot?   There are others around, and I could always resort to putting him in front of the TV a little longer.  And so what if Kyle loses his first playground?  Things change.  Besides, he probably was spoiled having it close-by anyway.  Kyle really should work for his fun.  Kids have it too easy these days.