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Robert at the Park
Robert and I made this video while we played at Zeman tonight. The quality is pretty poor, but hey, it’s YouTube.
Homefront News
Whew, what a busy weekend. I worked late on Friday night and again on Saturday morning. Then I reffed two soccer matches at Doane that night, followed by two youth matches at Den Hartog on Sunday morning. Six hours of running within 20 hours makes Mr. Wilson a tired boy.
During the second youth match we had a bit of a scary situation. A player was hit in the head by an errant free kick. I didn’t see it—like a good referee I was watching the “drop zone”, not the kick itself—but I heard it. I turned and jogged to the player fully expecting the usual ball + face = bloody nose equation. No big deal, right? Instead, I found an unconscious player curled into the fetal position. Crap.
Fortunately, there one of the parents on the sideline was a physician, so I put him in charge. The paramedics were called, but in the end the player walked off the field under his own, slightly disoriented, power. He didn’t leave in the ambulance, but hopefully his parents took him to the hospital to get checked out.
(Aside: Why in the world should two firetrucks and an ambulance respond to a simple blow to the head? Shouldn’t a single ambulance suffice? Can anybody in the medical community explain to me how that is not a tremendous waste of resources?)
In other 625 Elm Street news, Robbie is doing awesome these days. He still doesn’t say many actual words, but physically the kid is pretty darn impressive. He has no fear and, apparently, a relatively high tolerance for pain. That’s great for brushing aside skinned knees today, but does this mean we have a future X-Games participant on our hands? Dad can probably handle that, and mom could probably get used to it. But grandma and Aunt Brooke will have heart attacks if that happens. For now, he walks, runs, climbs, and tumbles as well as some kids twice his age. If he weren’t so shrimpy he could do even more. I’ve even almost taught him to jump. We almost have liftoff. We’ll get there.
Last night we had family photos taken. I’ll post one once we get them back.
Bored? Help Me Test a New ExpressionEngine Module
If you are feeling bored, go try out Weever, my new nested comments module for ExpressionEngine. The demo is nothing fancy, but let me know what you think. Do you think I should enable nested comments on Lincolnite, or should I stick with the flat, date-ordered comments?
When Memory Fails
I feel tremendous sympathy for the family of Ivan Havlovic, whose 10-block trip turned into a journey to Kansas. My grandfather did something very similar many years ago. By sheer coincidence, he happened to run out of gas in just the right place. The State Trooper who found my grandfather recognized his name, so he called my cousin, who was also a Trooper, and who lived nearby. Everything turned out well, but grandpa never drove again. Years of mental decline followed. It sounds like a terrible story, and to some degree it is. But my grandpa was happy as a clam holed up in his own little world. That’s worth something, right?
Anyway, good luck to Mr. Havlovic’s family. Keep a sense of humor, folks.
It’s Finally Time to Renew My License
After five long years I finally get to renew my drivers license today. I think I’m one of three people to still have the old style license. Whenever I show it to somebody they do a double-take, as though it were a fake. But it must be real, because nobody would go to the trouble of making a fake ID that bad, would they?
I don’t think I look all that different than I did five years ago. I’ll have to add 5 pounds to my weight, but that isn’t so bad. Well, as long as I don’t keep adding 5 pounds every time. That could add up after a while. On hair color I should probably be BLD instead of BLN. I don’t plan to let my hair grow back any time soon.
I’ll be an organ donor again. If any of you happen to run me over, could you be so kind as to make sure my organs end up in some nice homes? My innards are in fine shape, as far as I know.
Did I mention it’s my birthday today? I guess that was implied. Yesterday somebody suggested I could play in an “over-35” soccer league. Sorry, not quite. I haven’t even hit the three decade mark. I’ve just always looked older than I really am. It’s the dark areas under my eyes. I get that from my mom’s side of the family. Oh well, it’s not how old you look, it’s how old you act, right? In that case ... oh crap, I’m 40!
The Missus is Trying to Kill Me
I don’t think I need any more proof than this to show beyond a reasonable doubt that The Missus is trying to kill me:
Isn’t that the most evil murder weapon you have ever seen? It is composed of Ho-Hos, chocolate pudding, and Cool-Whip.
Oh, but what a way to go.
Robert and the Refrigerator Magnets
It isn’t the most exciting video of Robert, but here’s a clip I recorded yesterday:
Getting Older Every Day
I swear I can see Robbie grow each and every day. It’s not so much his size that’s changing. He’s still very much a shrimp. Rather, he learns new things and tries new activities all the time. It really is amazing to watch.
One of his firsts this weekend was that he finally tried—and liked!—some new solid foods. He ate several pieces of apple and banana, rather than just their mushed-up versions. Until now, Robert’s gag reflex has been on hyperdrive and it has been all but impossible to get him to try foods with certain textures. (Would you be eager to try new foods if every time you did so, no matter how good it tasted, you horked a little of your lunch into your lap?) I’m crossing my fingers that this may be the start of a new trend.
I taught Robbie to blow kisses. Every kid needs to know how to blow kisses.
The other day Robbie and I walked all the way around the block. That was a big milestone. It took us a while, but by the end those little legs had traveled over a quarter mile without any help from dad. That’s gotta be like 10 miles in toddler distance.
The Missus and I keep mental lists of observations we have made regarding folks’ interactions with Robbie, in particular regarding his adoption. I caught a new one the other evening. I walked around Old Navy while The Missus tried on several outfits. One woman really took a liking to Robbie. At one point she said, “He certainly is a keeper.” I use that phrase all the time, so at first I didn’t think anything of it. Then I realized something: some adoptive parents and adopted children might really take offense at the notion that some kids are “keepers” while others are not. I had never thought about that interpretation until just then. Hmm, I’m going to have to be careful about how I use that phrase in the future.
Oh, one last thing before I go. Yes, Mrs. CU, Robbie and I will be dropping by soon to see you. He looks forward to helpfully pointing out all of the non-baby-proofed items in your house. 
My Son is a Cannibal
Sentences you don’t plan to hear:
“If your son doesn’t stop biting kids he won’t be allowed to come back to the Y.”
Maybe I’m a bad parent, but the first thing I did when I heard that was burst out laughing. For one thing, the mental image of shrimpy little 15-month old Robbie walking around and nibbling on other kids is pretty amusing. And then there’s the woman’s reaction to Robbie biting one kid. I may be mistaken, but I was under the impression that kids bite each other now and then. They’re experimental that way. Kids skin their knees; they have tantrums; and they occasionally bite. Threatening expulsion after one incident seems a tad over-the-top. That’s like threatening to put a puppy to sleep after it playfully nips at your finger.
Plus, it’s a little refreshing to see that Robbie is trying new foods.
Not that I condone biting, of course. If we ever catch Robbie biting someone he will be punished to the extent you can punish a 15-month old. We’ve had pretty good success with our discipline techniques so far (knock on wood!), so I don’t see why we can’t nip this behavior in the bud, if there’s even anything to nip. Robbie aims to please; he is typically mortified to discover that he did something that makes mom and dad mad.
Anyway, here’s hoping our little cereal biter doesn’t become a serial biter. At the rate prosecutors are charging kids with crimes these days, little Robbie could find himself with a rapsheet before he’s two.
Widescreen Delight
I made a few business-related purchases at Best Buy over the weekend. First, I needed to pick up a webcam so I could do videoconferencing with some folks I’ll be working with beginning in the next couple weeks. I haven’t researched webcams in years, and boy have they changed. I ended up with a Logitech QuickCam Orbit. It seems to work very nicely, and it wasn’t nearly as expensive as I was afraid it would be (less than half the cost of this vendor for example). I also picked up a headset that will work both for videoconferencing and for making phone calls through Skype.
My big purchase was a new 22" widescreen monitor. Best Buy was selling them for $70 cheaper than anybody else, so I went ahead and made the purchase. It isn’t the highest quality monitor out there—though it really isn’t bad—but I don’t need the highest quality at this point. I just want cheap surface area, and that’s what I got. Now when I pair that monitor with my laptop I have 3,600 pixels of spacious widescreen real estate. Very nice.
Now I just need to get a comfy office chair and my workspace will be pretty much complete. Maybe Robbie can get that for his dad for Christmas.
Needed: One Awesome Babysitter
The Missus and I need a babysitter to watch Robbie some weekday afternoons and early evenings. The typical times will range between 3:00pm and 8:30pm, but rarely do we need somebody for that entire time. (Usually just a couple hours.) Our schedules are a little weird, so we need somebody who is pretty flexible. We prefer either somebody within a few miles of 48th and Highway 2, or somebody who can come to our place. We prefer somebody who we can count on for at least several months. And if you can only do one day a week, that’s fine. We aren’t opposed to working with more than one person; in fact, that’s what we’re doing now.
If you are such a person, or if you know of such a person, and you would like more information, please .
I Just Neologized
The Missus and I were chatting just now about a recently-married friend:
THE MISSUS: Do you think Mia is pregnant?
ME: Pregnant? Why do you think she’s pregnant?
THE MISSUS: Well, I had predicted they would get pregnant on their honeymoon. After all, all their friends have kids or are pregnant.
ME: And what, pregnancy is friend-genetic?
THE MISSUS: “Friend-genetic”?
ME: You know, inherited from your friends…
We talked a bit more and we decided “friend-genetic” was a useful word, but it was too long. We shortened it to friendetic. I hereby offer the following definition:
friendetic, adjective—of or relating to traits or behaviors acquired from or shared with one or more friends.
There you have it, a new word to add to your vocabulary. I can’t wait to see it at dictionary.com!
What’s Your Walk Score?
Just now I stumbled across a cool website that calculates a “Walk Score” for your home. A Walk Score is a measure of how easy it is to walk to businesses and services from your home. Our place at 625 Elm Street (that’s near 48th and Highway 2, by the way) score 68 out of 100. How does your home score?
Peaceful Slumber
I can’t believe it. Robbie slept through the night despite all kinds of commotion just outside his bedroom window. Good job, buddy!
Little Flirt
Robert had his first kiss on Friday. It was adorable.
We went to Southpointe for their Friday evening concert series. Robert was dancing and grooving to the music. Nearby, another one-year-old sat with her grandpa. When she saw Robbie, she went to dance with him. They walked around together and flirted for a while, drawing all sorts of attention to themselves. At some point Robbie must have decided they had courted long enough, because he walked right up to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and planted a big, sloppy kiss right on her lips. I think at least 50 people simultaneously let out an “Awwwww!”
While everybody else commented to their neighbors that the kiss was the cutest thing they had ever seen, I sat in silence and thought to myself, “And so it begins...”
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