kenny at the park: a brief photo essay

Before I had to go into the office today to gear up for a big presentation this week, Overboard and I took Kenny to the park up the street. You'll be pleased to know that his fascination with the slide is increasing, while his love of the swing is decreasing. Also, wood chips are incredibly tempting to put in one's mouth, as is sand and grass.


The fashion trend for 16-month olds: Showing a little diaper above the pants.

Kenny keeps a steady beat on the railing, or any surface he can get his hands on.

"I wonder if this is edible. Well, one way to find out..."

if he's sick, why do i feel terrible?

Kenny had a virus last week that threw him, and us, for a loop.

Last Wednesday, Overboard picked him up from daycare and our daycare provider said that Kenny had been fine all day, but didn't want to get up after his afternoon nap. He roused a bit, drank a bunch of juice, then wanted to go back to sleep. This is highly unusual, as Kenny is normally non-stop while he's at daycare.

When Overboard got him home, he was running a high fever and almost immediately went to bed. She commented that he was more lethargic than she had ever seen him before.

After speaking with a doctor, and my sister-in-law's sister-in-law, who's a nurse, we knew that Kenny was probably just dealing with a virus that would pass in a day or so, but I was still freaked out. I'm not sure how to explain the emotions you feel - the terror and empathy - when your child isn't feeling well. I would have done anything to take that fever from him and get him back to "normal." To touch his forehead, and feel that intense warmth, broke my heart.

I suppose that is what parenthood is all about: Feeling emotions at unfathomable levels of intensity that your child can't possibly understand or appreciate. It's like being a teenager in reverse.

I am pleased to say that Kenny recovered nicely and was back to his usual antics and grins by Friday. Me? I'm emotionally on the mend as well.

kenny's mouth

We have a new refrain around here during mealtimes: "No, it goes in Kenny's mouth."

Mr. Man has not grown tired of testing the trajectory of edible items, and it is only enhanced by his desire to feed Sadie, who, as we all know, is slowly dying of malnutrition (or so she'd like us to believe). During meals, Kenny will take a handful of food, glance up at myself or Overboard, and fling it to the ground. Sadie, who has been patiently waiting about 12 inches away, pounces as if she were back on the mean streets of St. Louis, and Kenny giggles to himself. Sometimes there is no giggling, just a steely look in his eye that seems to say, "Take that!"

As it's relatively impossible to reason with a 16-month old, we are forced to utter things like, "No!" or "Ah-ah-ah" or "No, it goes in Kenny's mouth."

Lest ye think the food solely goes south, Kenny is also quite adept at grabbing at his hair and smearing all sorts of things there. Then he gets peeved when we try to untangle his curly, matted locks, and dislodge the bananas, yogurt, pasta sauce, or poultry products that have been ground in.

Let's just say a normal dinner looks a bit like this...


Some food actually makes it into his mouth.

Some food makes it into his hair.

A lot of food makes it onto the floor.

Sadie bides her time by patiently waiting, er, whining (and whining...and whining...).

Sadie inhales the discarded food so quickly she can hardly be tracked by modern photographic equipment.

First the floor, then the seat. Sometimes she's nice enough to wait for us to remove Kenny first.

museum afternoon

Kenny had a lively afternoon post-nap, with a trip to the car wash and the kid's museum.

At the museum, he once again took his time in the car room and had to be cajoled, and eventually, carried out. He also made quite a splash in the water room, and smock be damned, wandered out with a sopping wet shirt. The music room was good for some booty-shakin' and drum-bangin', but he really had a ball in the, um, ball pit. Unfortunately, after leaving the ball pit he started to melt down, so we skedaddled on home.

Don't believe any of this? I have pix:


"A car in the hand is worth...wait, I see another car."

Kenny wonders what would happen if he put a jet engine on the car. Or maybe, he could just throw it. Yes, that sounds tempting.

"If I can create a strong enough current, I can draw the boat to me..."

"...and rip its sail off! Muwahahahaha."

"Hey, Daddy, this water stuff is wet. Go figure."

Kenny is the master of the ball pit, all balls who do not obey his every command will be banished. So there.

Action shot. [ed. note: sorry, not every caption can be so witty]

sunday in the park

Somebody was an incredible crank last night. I don't wanna name names here, but let's just say it rhymes with "Shmenny." Truth be told, I think it's his new tooth that's trying to make its big entrance that caused his irritability, but he went to sleep early, around 5:30pm, and woke up 12 hours later in a much better mood.

He played and noshed with his mommy, before I relieved her and took the boy and the dog for a walk/stroll. Our usual route up the street was interrupted by the local Rotary Club's 5 & 10k road race, so we dodged a few runners before ducking down a side street.

Our detour proved to be fortuitous, as we stumbled across an untouched garage sale. I normally don't pay much attention to these things, but my sudden change of heart ended up landing us a 2-DVD set of "The Best of Schoolhouse Rock" for...get this...$2. I may have to change the way I think about garage sales.

After we got back home, I told Overboard about my acquisition and we decided to get out of the house and take Kenny to the kid's museum (of which we are now members). Of course, as we pulled into the museum parking lot, I asked my beautiful bride, "Um, sweetheart, when does the museum open?" Luckily, there was a sign posted to tell us exactly that: "The museum opens at noon today." It was 10am. D'oh.

Undaunted, okay, mildly daunted, we opted to take Kenny to the park across the street from The Glen. Another smart decision. Kenny had a great time running around checking things out, and was mesmerized by the fountain we wouldn't let him run through (since we didn't have a change of clothes with us).

So after all of that build-up and play-by-play, here are the park pix:


Kenny ponders where to begin.

A lot of my pix are of Kenny's back, since he was constantly moving on to the next adventure.

Kenny approaches the forbidden fountain.

Can you stand the excitement? Kenny can.

"Hmm...springy. I wonder if I can bounce my whole body off this?"

Overboard helps Kenny quench his playground thirst.

A mother and son bonding moment. All together now: "Awwwwwww."

kenny's boston adventure

Kenny gets ready to brave the wonderful world of air travel.

We just got back this morning from an extended trip to Overboard's homeland. Our flight was at 6:10am, and we were up at 3am. Kenny slept on Overboard during the flight, and we've all been powernapping on and off ever since. If things go well, Kenny will be back on schedule by the time he goes down for bed tonight and tomorrow will go seamlessly. Yes, that is exactly what shall happen. I mean, when do things ever not go according to plan?

Our trip to Boston was twofold: We rang in the Jewish New Year and also celebrated the wedding of Overboard's good friend Cristina. In between all of that, we bounced from place to place, visiting with friends and family.

The flight up wasn't terrible. Kenny squirmed and fussed as any good toddler would, I cursed the people at Dynex for creating (and Best Buy for selling me) a portable DVD player that only works while plugged in (thus negating the whole "portable" element), and our friendly airlines (rhymes with "Shamerican") tried to sell me a $3 cookie. To top it all off, Kenny finally decided to take a nap just as the wheels touched down on the Boston tarmac. Well played, indeed.

With Grammy Shirley out of town, Cousin Sue was kind enough to house us and provided awesome toys for Kenny to play with that had been in action since the early '60s. How do I know this? Well, the Fisher-Price rolling toys were made of wood, not covered in lead paint and actually made in the USA. Kenny was especially fond of the duck on wheels and carried it everywhere he went inside Sue's place.


Sue tells Kenny all about the bag she keeps getting outbid for on eBay.

On Thursday, we had a great dinner at Amy and John's, where Cousin Sara ran amok with the neighborhood kids, but also brought each of them in to see (and high-five) Kenny. Mr. Man made the most of his time indoors, however, as he ran lap after lap around the house, climbed the stairs, and bonded with Cousin Peter, who would later be our all-star babysitter. This was a full-circle moment unto itself, since Peter was once babysat by Overboard's father, who is Kenny's namesake.


Kenny watches the big kids play and wonders when he'll be allowed outside unsupervised. My first thought? When he's 18. We'll negotiate.

Peter and Kenny have a moment.

On Friday morning, Overboard got together with her girlfriends to swap stories and compare progeny. Kenny was the only boy, and I think he enjoyed being surrounded by so many lovely ladies.


[insert clever line about Kenny and his womens]

Friday night, we discovered that many words are highly amusing to young, Mr. K. As his Uncle John pointed out, he has a love for "fowl language." Confused? Don't be. Just watch the video below and all will be made clear.



Later on in the evening, Overboard hosted a dinner of her own at Grammy Shirley's place. While she got things ready, Kenny and I went on a fowl-finding mission to the Northshore Mall so Daddy could satiate his Chik-Fil-A jones. It was tasty.

At dinner, Kenny was enamored with a talking train that Aunt Amy and Uncle John took from the "Sara the Early Years Collection." The train has a slew of animal heads on it, and when you push one, the animal's name and color are heard, along with a corresponding noise. This helps with our desire to keep teaching Kenny to roar like a lion, but diminishes my ability to remain sane while Kenny pushes the same buttons over and over and over again. After all, if I want somebody to push my buttons I'll just call my brother.


"The green frog says, 'ribbit, ribbit'." And so on.

Also, what's with EVERY SINGLE TOY these days making a sound? John smiled mischievously at me when the train was presented to Kenny, and you could tell he wasn't sad to see it go, even though it must be years since it has seen any action. That kind of mental/aural scarring is hard to heal. In a move that is wise beyond my parental years, I made the executive decision that the train would stay at Grammy Shirley's for the next time Kenny was in town.

When not listening to the train, I relived college memories with Cousin Simona, who is a sophomore at Brandeis. We discussed the finer points of being an RA, the pros and cons of what semester to go JYA, and the drawbacks to classes that begin around 9am (that's just poor planning, Simona...I'm just sayin').

On Saturday, Overboard, Kenny and I met up with our friends Mike and Emily, and their awesome son, Zachary. Zach and Kenny had fun sitting across the table from each other, rolling toys back and forth and swapping books to read. In between all of this, they ate their respective lunches with much gusto. Afterwards, we swung by Overboard's favorite ice cream parlor in the whole wide world, Richardson's Dairy. We were originally going to go look at the cows in the barn behind the store, but the morning rain (and a tight schedule) nixed that plan. We did teach Kenny to moo, though, so that was good.


Kenny's new buddy, Zachary, and his "handlers".

Kenny then went to hang out with Cousin Peter while we went to the wedding in Salem. Salem, most famous for testing the flammability of wrongfully accused Wiccans, is actually a very cool OLD town. The wedding was held at a hall built in the late 18th century, and every other building seemed to be adorned with a "Built in 17something" date or a historical marker.


Dave & Cristina enjoy wedded bliss.

We ate, drank, laughed and played countless rounds of "Who could take who?" at our table. This is a brilliant game where someone poses the theoretical situation of, say, "Rocky vs. a shark: who wins?" My favorite was, "Alice from the Brady Bunch vs. Mr. Belvedere."

Due to our crazy travel schedule, we had to duck out a touch early in order to pick up Kenny from Peter's - who was luckily still in one piece. Peter, that is. The rest, well, you read the intro.

If you want to check out all of the pictures from our trip just click here.

Whew. I'm tired just from typing all of that. Time to feed and bathe the boy then go crash. We actually have to go back to work tomorrow. Oh, the indignity.

momo

Kenny's verbal skills are really starting to come together and his babbling has increased exponentially. Now is the time when we need to bust out our super-secret decoder rings and try to ascertain what he's asking for or telling us about. While Kenny is also starting to use more "real" words and phrases, he's chock full of words that we're slowly figuring out. Like "momo."

Now, at first I thought maybe he was referencing the Godfather-like character from "Get Shorty," but it turns out this is Kenny's way of saying "water." Or "milk." Or "more." But mostly, "water." It's all in the inflection, and what he's grabbing for at the time.

visitors from the east: part ii (electric boogaloo)*

It's already been a few weeks since the visit, but Kenny did get to spend some quality time back in August with his Grammy Shirley and cousin Sara, in from Boston. Since our camera had recently committed seppuku, we had to rely on Grammy Shirley, who is "old-school," and still uses a camera that shoots on actual [gasp!] film. This means that I won't have any pictures to share until she gets those developed, sends them to me, and I can scan a few in. Before you go accusing GS of being too far behind the times, I'm proud to say that she recently traded in her clunker of a PC and upgraded to a shiny new MacBook. Huzzah.

Kenny had fun playing with his cousin, but was a bit weirded out when she decided one morning to hop into his pack n' play with him. While Sara was trying to be engaging and helpful, Kenny wanted to know what the big girl was doing all up in his crib (so to speak). He had this fantastically quizzical look on his mug, as if to ask, "Um, can I help you? Perhaps you have mistaken this for a two-seater, when the federally approved occupation level has been set at one? Of course, since you're here, why don't you be a love and pass me that plastic racecar so I can chew on it."

Sara did prove to be quite popular with Ms. Sadie, however, and requested that the furball sleep with her on the futon in the downstairs office. Sadie, never one to pass up the opportunity to hop onto a bed, obliged, but not before I warned Sara that the dog was a total and complete bed hog.

In addition to several suburban outings, we took everyone to the kid's museum and much playing was enjoyed by all. On the homefront, Sara led us in many rousing bouts of charades and teamed up with her Uncle Evenkeel to beat GS and Aunt Overboard in a game or two of Scene It.

Sara even offered to play me in NHL Monopoly, which her mom and dad had given me as a gift a few years back, since, "I know that Aunt Mary-Jo won't play you." This, of course, is true. Overboard, who loves to play games, will never play me in just about any board game. I'd like to think this is because she never wins, but really it goes back to her litmus test of: Can this be played by a large group of campers?

To her credit, Overboard recently caved in to a Scrabble request and, although she keeps getting shellacked [insert maniacal laughter here], she has at least been willing to step up and play. Again, I say, "Huzzah."


*Yes, I realize I have used this joke on many occasions now. No, I will not stop using it, as it's still funny each and every time.

a blog peace offering

I know it's been over a week now in between posts, but life is hectic sometimes. While I actually don't have the time to properly update everyone, I offer the following snapshot as a peace offering to tide you over until I have a minute to lovingly describe the minutiae of our lives (or something like that).

Anyways, here ya go:

Evenkeel and Kenny marvel at the wonder that is the built-in computer camera.

night, night

After I put Kenny down to sleep, I give him a kiss, tell him I love him, then say, "Night, night, Kenny." Now he looks back at me and says, "nigh', nigh'." He also punctuates it with his version of a kiss, which kinda resembles a fish face. This is very cute. Trust me on this.

things you never thought you'd hear yourself say

Welcome to another entry in our ongoing series of, "I can't believe I just said that," an homage to our best parental quips.

While driving home from downtown today, Overboard looked over at Kenny and demanded: "Hey! Don't put your shoe in your mouth!" This was quickly followed by the removal of the offending shoe and Overboard then announcing, "And don't put your sock in your mouth either!"

She then removed Kenny's sock, watched as he put his toes towards his mouth and sat in awed silence. I, on the other hand, encouraged him to take full advantage over his lack of bones, since one day that feat of feet eating would either be damned near impossible or hurt like hell.

I also wondered why he can put his toes in his mouth, but he complains when I bend his arm back a touch to get his shirt off...

whaaaa?

Well, apparently I am bad juju for my beloved Braves. Kenny and I wear our jerseys the other day to support the team and what happens? THEY GET SWEPT BY THE METS. Good grief.

happy birthday, ms. sadie

Sadie at 8 weeks old - taken 11 years and 10 months ago.

Sadie turned 12 today, which, in dog years, is 84. I'm happy to announce, however, that she is still the same slightly-nuts, high-strung, unbelievably cute, and wonderfully lovable mutt she's always been. They say that people start to look like their pets, and vice versa, over the years. I'd say this rings pretty true for the pooch and I, as neither one of us looks (or acts) our age.

For her birthday, Ms. Sadie received an inordinate amount of treats. I'm just hoping she remembers that it's a special day and not the beginning of a new routine. After all, you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but you can give her one too many Milkbones.*


*Sadie disputes this theory and has double-dog dared me to prove its validity through extensive testing and research.

college prep

One of Kenny's new "achievements"* is that he can point out his nose to you. When you ask, "Where's Kenny's nose?" he quickly places his finger on, or in the general vicinity of, his nose.

While driving around today, Overboard asked Kenny where his nose was. The boy was quick to show her, and she praised him by announcing, "Congratulations, Kenny, that could be the most important thing you ever need to know when you're in college."


*I say "achievements" because "tricks" just sounds too much like what Sadie is capable of.