you let your guard down for a second...

...and you get schooled.

I was changing Kenny out of his clothes to take his bath tonight when tragedy struck. I had him down to his diaper, and then I got that off too and cleaned him up. He was so cute, laying on the changing table of his pack n' play, nakedly reading a book, that I had to lean in and give him an Eskimo kiss.

While I was nuzzling nose to nose, he giggled and I thought to myself, "Awww, this is awesome. This is so why I love being a daddy."

Then I stood back up, felt something warm and wet on my pants, and looked down to see that I had been peed on. A lot.

Kenny thought this was pretty funny. I was not so amused.

It's been a long time since he's let 'er rip while on the changing table. So long that I got sloppy and paid the price. So from now on, constant vigilance. Well, that and some sort of cloth to keep Mr. K's Mr. Happy under wraps.

go, dog. go!

One of Kenny's favorite books is, "Go, dog. Go!" We read it most nights before going to bed, and he has now taken to raising his hand in a "stop" sign when we get to the page, "Stop, dogs, stop. The light is red." This page is followed by, "Go, dogs, go! It's green ahead."

Kenny and Overboard took the book a step further the other morning and turned it into a fun (though somewhat repetitive) game.

Kenny stood at attention in his bedroom and Overboard announced, "Stop, dogs, stop! The light is red." Kenny raised his hand, grinned, and waited for the next pronouncement. When he heard the magic words, "Go, dogs, go! It's green ahead" he screamed with delight and ran like hell through the hall from his room to ours. He then stopped, waited for Overboard and did it all again. And again. And again. And basically until he was too tired to go on.

I then sat down with Mr. K and read him the book, which re-energized him into action and he made me play the game another few rounds. Then exhaustion truly set in and he went down (hard) for a nap.

i have glimpsed the future (and it's quite loud)

Kenny is getting a touch more demanding these days when he sits down to eat. In general, he's still pretty well behaved and is slowly getting better about not throwing food (but not enough as to upset Sadie). However, he is growing a bit impatient at times when he knows something is coming, but hasn't arrived just yet.

In the morning, he'll have a plate full of banana right in front of him and be eating happily until he realizes that there's a waffle in the toaster. You know the saying about a "watched pot never boils?" Yeah, well, Kenny doesn't. And he likes to encourage the pot to boil (or toaster to toast) by screaming at it. And not always encouraging thoughts like, "You can do it!" or "Attaboy toaster! You rock!" No, it usually sounds more like, "What the %$#@ is your problem, toaster? TOAST, DAMN YOU!"

On the upside, we do get a "beez" thrown in there as well, so at least he's somewhat polite while having a meltdown.

Let's hope that this isn't as much of a glimpse into the terrible two's as I think it may be.

one man band

Overboard picked up a set of "bee bop band" musical instruments for Kenny last weekend. The "kit" contains a drum, drumsticks, maracas, tambourine, and xylophone - all decorated like colorful bugs (except the drum, which also doubles as a container for the whole kit).

Kenny enjoys banging away at everything, although I think his Daddy may dig it even more, and is impressed that Mommy would violate the "no toys that can make enough noise to lodge a police complaint from the neighbors" rule. She's a rebel like that sometimes.

mr. zero gravity

One of the best ways to diffuse a perturbed Kenny these days is to grab him by the waist and hang him upside down for a bit. This usually turns any sort of protests, no matter how earsplitting, into a fit of giggles. Maybe it's the rush of blood to the head, or quick change of perspective on the world, but it (almost) never fails.

If I can somehow pull this maneuver off until he's about 18 or so, I think I'm in the clear.

the best game you can name

Kenny once again established that he is not tied to a specific hockey team yet (besides the Chicago Phantoms, of course) when he sported his new Bruins jammies (courtesy of Uncle John, Aunt Amy and Cousin Sara). To honor the occasion, we read one of our favorite bedtime stories, "Goodnight Boston."


Kenny gives the camera his best intimidating stare, which is usually reserved for opposing netminders.

Kenny shows Daddy where the puck is on the "Goodnight Bruins" page. He'll tell the actual Bruins where to find the puck when he guest-coaches for them next month.

"He shoots, he scores!"

words words words

In addition to his extensive (and expanding) repertoire of animal sounds, Kenny has added a few more words to his vocabulary lately...

"Beees" (please) - We're working on Mr. Man's manners, so in addition to "Thank You," we're encouraging increased use of "Please" and "You're Welcome" as well. This is going fairly well, if you take out the time we spend asking him (politely) to stop screaming for things.

"Shoooz" (shoes) - I heard this for the first time the other day when picking up Kenny from daycare. He was being assisted with a change from his Robeez to his outside shoes and commented several times on his sporty "shoooz."

"Gra' Kra" (graham cracker) - Kenny enjoys the delicious taste of a graham cracker, and is kind enough not to care whether it's fresh out of the box or slightly stale from sitting in a ziploc baggy for several days/weeks. Sadie isn't very picky about it either, as she got into Kenny's backpack the other night and "liberated" a baggy of "gra' kra's" for her own enjoyment.

"Ah-pull" (apple) - At the moment, most fruit (except "nanas") is referred to by Mr. K as "ah-pulls." My favorite, however, is when he walks up to my laptop, points at the Macintosh logo and announces, "Ah-pull!" I need to videotape this and send it to Mr. Jobs. I think we could be on to a new ad campaign here.

"Mower" (more) - Okay, so this isn't exactly a new phrase for our boy, but he has managed to add the sign language movement that we half-heartedly worked on with him for the past seventeen months. Yes, we're proud to say that our boy knows how to sign for two things: Milk and More. Of course, we only taught him two signs, and it took until recently to kick in, but "Go Team Rolnick!" I am but so proud.

"All Da'" (all done) - This is another mealtime phrase that has been coming in handy lately. The only problem is sometimes being able to tell when he means he's finished and wants out of his highchair, versus when he's simply showing off his new word. It's a fine line. One that is often crossed to much screaming and flailing.

"Bow" (bounce) - Kenny loves his stuffed animal Tigger, and when he picks him up he likes to move him up and down and say, "Bow, bow, bow." Because, as we all know, Tiggers love to bounce. It's what they do. Well, that and taunt Mickey Mouse in the corner of Kenny's crib, but that's a story for another time.

"S-ray" (x-ray) - The toddler formerly known as "Dr. Rosenberg" also likes to say "x-ray," which is one of the more popular flash cards he enjoys reading/chewing on. If he continues down this path of medical terminology, he should be in med school by the time he's 13 or so, which would still put him ahead of any other candidate not named "Doogie."

kenny takes his new 'do out to dinner

After taking a monster second nap to sleep off the stress of his inaugural haircut, Kenny was willing to show off his new look over dinner.


"Yes, I am a handsome man."

Kenny, giddy with excitement over his new stylish mane. Or it could just be the couscous talking.

the barber of wilmette

After just under 18 months, Overboard (and seemingly everyone else) couldn't fight me any longer - it was time for Kenny to get his first haircut. While I loved my son's curls, his mop top had taken on a life of its own, and it wasn't a stretch to say that he bore a striking similarity to Art Garfunkel. Overboard was not a fan of this observation, and I think it was more to do with Mr. Garfunkel being the less revered half of the famous duo, Simon and, well, you know.

After a few weekends of almost making it to the barber shop, I finally made an appointment for this afternoon at a Kid Snips in nearby Wilmette. This is one of those places that overcharges for their wares, but does provide quite the haircut experience.


The venue for our historic event.

The store is as much a toy store as a hair cuttery. Along with all of the toys for sale (and free ones to play with), all of the barber chairs can be replaced with mini cars. Additionally, each of the hair dresser's stations comes complete with a television set that either shows kid's DVDs or is hooked up to a video game system. Honestly, I think they might be on to something with the whole video game thing. I know a lot of grown-ups who wouldn't mind playing some Madden while getting their bangs trimmed.

Kenny was thrown off the "they're about to shear me of my golden locks" vibe by all of the aforementioned toys, and he passed the time before his appointment by pulling a multitude of cars and planes out of one of three full bins to play with.


Kenny revs up for his big haircut.

Eventually, "Mr. Todd" was ready for us and conferred quickly with Overboard about what we were looking to do. After successfully negotiating a fair amount of hair to be removed, I fell short when it came to the car chair Kenny would sit in. I tried to angle for the old-school racecar, but had to settle for something else. This did not make me happy. Lemme 'splain.


Kenny lets Mr. Todd work his magic, while sitting in a...

...Hummer. Yeah, this was my least favorite part.

I hate the automotive behemoths known as "Hummers." Hate them. And I hate the people who drive them. Every time I pass by one on the road I mutter, "You, sir/madam, are an @$$hole." This is true. Ask Overboard. I think these vehicles are worthless, gas-guzzling, eco-nightmares on wheels, and I also hate how every time I see one there's only one person in them. Anyways, I'll stop my rant, since I think you get my point. So it was with much shame that I let my son sit in one - even a fake one.*sigh*


Evenkeel stifles his disgust over Kenny's ride.

Overboard had no such qualms. Oh, the irony.

Kenny, on the other hand, looked at the car, thought to himself, "cool, a big car" and focused in on the television in front of him. Any of my concerns that he might squirm around while a man with sharp scissors hovered around his head subsided the minute Elmo took the screen. Kenny's eyes got that fun glazed look and he just sat quietly and stared. My pride knew no bounds.


Kenny tunes out the haircut and tunes in to Elmo.

Minutes later, he was all done. Mr. Todd then snapped a Polaroid of a none-too-amused Kenny and we were presented with a certificate to commemorate the big event, as well as a tiny baggy with a lock of Kenny's hair. I tried to get Mr. Todd to blow dry our handsome young man's shorn, wet head, but this proved highly unpopular. So we just paid and vamoosed to the bookstore up the block.


The newly-coiffed Mr. K.

Kenny's proof of purchase. Note the look he gave the camera. Priceless.

I'm happy to report that Kenny still looks adorable, just not in a "my parents don't love me enough to try and tame this curly bird's nest on my head" kind of way. However, while it was worth it to go "all out" for the first big haircut, we may end up trying to perform the next one ourselves. If I've learned anything, it's that all we need to do is set up an obnoxious 4x4 in front of a TV with a fuzzy red Muppet on it. Not that I'm gonna split hairs on the details or anything.


Kenny hides his new 'do under a hat while walking with Daddy and his new balloon.

ladies and gentlemen, kenny performs!

Well, it's really more of a Q&A with Daddy, but he does showcase a few things we've been working on.


I also sometimes interchange "Old MacDonald" for "Young McKenny," and my personal favorite:
"Old McCheney had an industrial military complex...GI, GI, Joe..."
(Kenny misses the subtlety in his daddy's political humor, but it ain't lost on Overboard, or Sadie, really. That dog is such a liberal it's ridiculous. She's always carrying on about "Free healthcare!" But then complains about trips to the vet. Honestly, it's a bit much.)

Anyways, I've got a fun list of other things that I want Kenny to say/do, including throwing his arms in the air (a la "how big is Kenny?") and yelling, "He shoots, he scores!" My best friend from childhood, Jarrod, taught his two boys that when he asked "What does Brando say?" they were to ball up their fists, rear back, and scream, "Stelllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaa!"

One thing at a time tho...

Any suggestions?

suburban graffiti

The other weekend, Kenny and I went to a local playground. As he meandered through the various structures, I noticed this scrawled on one of the walls:



It reads, "Hey Kids! By the time you are 15, America's economy will be worse off than Japan's! :)"

Whaaa? This is the best graffiti Glenview has to offer? Economic warnings? Who wrote this? Little Alan Greenspan?

Boy, I'm just glad Kenny can't read. That could've ruined his whole day.

mr. tough guy

Kenny absconded with my Bruins hat and then tried to act tough about it. What a bruiser.


"What are you lookin' at? It's mine now."

"You wanna go? Cause I've got two fists and a dirty diaper. I'm ready to rock, buddy."

let's play hockey!

Kenny tried on my jersey the other night before I left for my game. Good to see it fits him as well as it fits me.


24 pounds of pure intimidation.

Kenny works on his forecheck.

lovely day for a stroll

The other weekend we took Kenny and Sadie out for a stroll and investigated a nearby park. Mr. K showed us again that, when it comes to his stroller, he would often rather do the pushing than the riding around.


"Let's see...maybe we'll go this way."

"Or, perhaps, it's best to go this way..."

"Nah...definitely want to go this way."

hawks vs. thrashers

Overboard, the consummate hockey fan.

Evenkeel, as close as may ever get to being on NHL ice.

With my Thrashers making their bi-annual visit to Chicago to play the Blackhawks, Overboard and I splurged on some nice 200-level corner seats to take in the game. As it was right before Halloween (at least that's the best explanation I can think of...short of the Wirtz evil empire making a return), Darth Vader and some of his minions were also in attendance.


Has Wirtz Sr. come back to retake his team from beyond the grave? Hope not.

Halloween revelers? Or the new United Center security team?

During the game, Overboard waxed poetic about the Blackhawks Ice Girls, wondering aloud where the poles were on the ice for them to dance around.

I, on the other hand, frightened myself by channeling my father. You see, my dad is renowned for attending a sporting event (or watching one on TV) and harping in on the one thing he sees his team doing wrong. He then mentions that thing over, and over, and over, and over again. You know, just to make sure everyone is fully aware of the transgressions taking place on the ice, court, field, whathaveyou.

Throughout the game (which the Thrashers did manage to win), I kept bemoaning that the thing that was killing the Thrashers was their inability to clear the puck out of their own zone. Time after time, the puck failed to cross the blue line, and I threw my hands up in disgust and groaned how "they can't clear the freakin' zone!" Finally, after the, I don't know, 183rd time, Overboard looked over at me and raised her eyebrow in just the wrong way.

"Oh, good lord," I whispered, "I'm turning into my dad."

Overboard just smiled and poked me in the ribs. "Look, the puck's at the red line."

The other fun moment came when I took advantage of the in-seat ordering service. The attendant came to our seat and I requested the chicken fingers and a coke. This turned out to cost over $13. Since the chicken fingers were something like $8, this meant that my normal-sized bottle of coke cost $5. And they wonder why people complain about arena pricing. I am also sad to say, that try as I may, the coke was not the best I had ever had. It wasn't even ice cold. I guess I should have gone for the $10 bottle. That'll learn me.

take a seat

One of Kenny's new awesome things to do is to back up into my lap and plop down there so I can read him a story. The phenomenal nature of this act cannot be put into words that will do it justice.

happy anniversary to us

Today is the seventh anniversary of our first date. We went to the High Museum to see a photography exhibition taken from Elton John's extensive private collection, and then to dinner at my favorite tapas restaurant in Atlanta. On the way from the museum to the restaurant I showcased the incredible driving skills I picked up while living in Overboard's home state. She was so impressed she silently dug in her nails and hung onto the sides of her seat in appreciation.

It was during dinner that I learned of Overboard's observance of Kashrut, as I tried to sell her on what I considered to be "the best calamari you will ever eat." For her sake, I ate her share.

For those of you familiar with our story, it was on our second date, to a Cowboy Mouth concert, that Overboard joked about "if we get married, [Cowboy Mouth] will have to play at the wedding." As I mentioned in my wedding toast, I knew at that point that I liked her, because normally a mention of marriage on a second date was a great way to kill any chance of a third date.

As it turned out, we didn't have Cowboy Mouth perform at the wedding. But we did have a fun DJ who, after I scared him by taking complete control of the wedding playlist, later offered us a chance to go into business with him and his wife as DJ impresarios. We declined.