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Showing posts from June, 2011

When Miloh Made Me Cry... or He's On His Way To Being A Photographer

This post somehow got lost and never posted. It was from Late April. Here goes. Pure awesomeness happened today... Ever since Miloh has been mobile he's been obsessed with my cameras . Could be that since the second he came out he's been in front of a lens. It's a toy to him, fun times. He used to grab my camera but then he became obsessed with my flash. I'd never really let him play with it because it's pricey... And so he found the lens cap. I have a ton of photos with him eating the cap or trying to put it back on the camera. As he got more mobile I got scared for my camera. So he got my super old point and shoot. One we don't use anymore so it can be destroyed. But he's still a fan of my camera. And today he finally understood  what was going on. At least today I finally noticed that he understood. We hung out looking through the viewfinder. He loved seeing mommy through it. Then I'd snap a pic and he'd be blown away when it was in th

Building the Perfect Baby: an open letter to Evolution

We've all been let down by evolution, if you believe in that kooky theory. People have been around for at least 37 years... That's all I can personally vouch for. And if you don't believe that number perhaps 200,000 years is a better one. In those 200,000 years there have been some evolutionary changes but not the kind of things that I think all parents want in babies. So I decided to write evolution an open letter in hopes she'll get with the program. See how I wrote she instead of he? That's because I'm sensitive. I don't have her email or snail mail address so please forward if you know it. Dear Evolution You've done some good things... I'm not gonna lie. I'm a fan of my thumb. I use it every time I thumb wrestle, hitch hike or do that stupid "this guy" thing (I never do that). I also find they come in handy (hah) randomly throughout the day. I also like some of the little tricks you play on us. The platypus.. That thing

I am, I am, I am Superman and I can do anything

I'm already Miloh's hero, as I should be. The littlest things we (Staci included) do give him the greatest joy and wonder because like most kids, he can't believe they are possible. When I can tell him what a fan is 3 times in a row he cracks up and claps. Same with a dog, a foot or really anything else. When I take his Crayola toothbrush, with a suction cup on the bottom, and slam it into the bathroom counter so it stick up he can't control himself. He gives a laugh with a huge head turn almost out of disbelief. If I figure out what he wants to eat he gives a clap that ends with his arms extended to the sky and a big smile. When I grab his nose and say honk. He's amazed because he hasn't figured out how to get his nose to make the noise. He grabs his, and mine, and waits for a honk. When we fly down the sidewalk on his trike, with me on the back, at speeds that I think will require him to wear a helmet just in case. When I toss him high into the sky

Over at the Haps today

I hacked my way onto Mandy's blog, Harper's Happenings , today. You can check out all the awesomeness there. Rolling Stone Magazine said it's the the best post they've seen  this year. It's also up for a Pulitzer or two.


Vomit never scared me. I'm not one of those people that puke when I see puke. I never want to see puke... But it doesn't cause a gut reaction. Last week, at least last week when I write this, Miloh was super sick. It all started at 11PM when he woke up crying. He'd been waking every night around midnight for a couple minutes so I thought nothing of it. Staci being the good mom asked me to check in. I went to his room to see no less than a gallon of vomit on in his bed and on him. Perhaps the gallon is a little hyperbole but it did look like more that could fit in his tiny body. We cleaned him up, switched out his vomity stuffed animals for clean ones and brought him in to our bed to sleep. It was probably more special for us that he was sleeping with us than it was for him. At about 1AM he got up and started heaving. For some reason my gut instinct (not sure why "gut" keeps coming up but it's the best word to use in context) was to put my hand out to g

First Generation Dad

My parents divorced when I was 12 (or about then) and I would guess they separated when I was 11. And while my father was around those 11 years and I was forced to see him for a few years after the divorce I wouldn't say he was a dad in any respect. Unless you consider a dad to be the person that sits in front of the TV with you occasionally offering you a pretzel but never going to a ball game or any other activity of yours. I could get more into the whole thing but you get the gist  And while there were other positive male figures around in my life you can't replace the role of a dad. So that being said I feel I'm a first generation dad. A stranger in a strange land. Someone that has heard of the idea of being a dad, seen the concept in practice but never experienced it.  And so it's been about a year and a half and it feels more natural than I thought it would. It's the best thing ever in fact. Having a great partner in Staci helps. And having a super amazi

Gear Thursday: Ikea toys... and teaching your kids the life cycle of food.

As you all know without fail I bring you an awesome product review to you each and every Thursday. A bit ago we went to Ikea to look at a bed for Miloh. He was digging the cots at school so we thought we'd move him to a super low toddle bed. While we didn't find a bed for him we did find something... Including pure awesomeness. First thing we found was The Baby Guy's sister, brother-in-law and nieces. I spotted them because I saw a couple wach of them holding blonde headed twins in the best baby carriers on the market. Any time you see a pair of blonde girl twins and the parents have the Maserati of baby carriers you know it's his family. Sadly I didn't know if it would be stupid for me to ask if they were truly them so I didn't. I was worried that if they weren't them they'd think I was a creep, but I'd never see them again so I don't know why I'd care? I got the text too late confirming that the were in fact them so Miloh lost hi

Weekly Wednesday Wisdom: Take risks

As you all know without fail I offer Miloh a little nugget of wisdom that I have learned. Todays wisdom for Miloh: Take Risks That could be the most important thing I learned in college and I actually learned it in a class. Or I guess I should say a professor told the class to take risks. It was in a great Religion and Physics class I took. Not to be confused with the Physics and Religion class I took the next quarter. This one was in the religion department, the other in the math department. Both fantastic but this was one of my standout classes. The teacher was amazing. The first day of class we watched Pinocchio because the story was about personal transformation. Which makes me remember that it was a Religion and Personal Transformation class not to be confused with Religion and Physics which should not be confused with Physics and Religion. Anyway, the big takeaway from the class was to take risks. I have my whole life pretty much. I kind of don't listen to folks

Oh god or we'll drink a whisky sometime.

The post title is a bit of theft from musician Frank Turner. I heard about him on The World on NPR and dug his voice, style and lyrically he’s great too. You should, after reading this fantastic post, go by his new album England Keep My Bones  and also The First Three Years . For one thing they're good. For another if a billion people buy using those links I'll make about $.40 from Amazon. Back to the quote, it comes from a live performance of his song Glory Hallelujah in which he says  "if you don't agree with what I'm about to say we're still friends we'll still drink a whisky at the end of the night." I say that because this post, like his song, is about religion and that's a subject that gets touchy for folks. I won’t however ever have a whisky/whiskey with any of you as I hate that stuff. But it’s the thought that counts... Right? And before I get in to the meat of the post I should say I’m already bothered by the way this is going. I

How to guide: How to use a fork

Miloh wanted to share with the world the most efficient way to use a fork. He's a bit too young to know how to use Adobe Illustrator so I helped him out with this, but basically I was just the hands. The concept and steps were all him.

What does a cow say?

I love a good coyote farm. What does the cow say? Miloh has no idea. He doesn't know what a sheep says. He can't tell you a pig says oink. Or that a Horse says neigh. And he'd guess neither bow nor woof if asked what a dog says. Miloh doesn't know his animal sounds. And I don't really care. There's some baby milestone sheet that mentions how many animals sounds a kid should say by a certain age. The reason I'm a bit fuzzy on that is I didn't really pay attention to that... Or really care. And you know why? We don't live on a farm, in a jungle or a zoo. There's no need for him to know what sound a penguin makes (apparently it's onk). I don't get why he needs to know them now. I'm not against teaching them to him... It's just not something that was top of mind for us until we noticed that all the kids in his gym class knew them. But I caved... I started singing old McDonald to him. We say the sounds of animals in book

Off subject post: Open Letter to Dan Hesse of Sprint

Hey Dan Remember when you did that ad campaign that gave your email so people can shoot you a quick note about problems they are having with Sprint? It was a good campaign. And even though it's years later, and I doubt you're the one who reads them, I thought I'd send a letter about my Sprint experience and maybe give you a bit of advice. Let's start with something we both know. It's going to hurt but it's the truth so let's just pull the Band-Aid® off instead of dancing around it. Sprint is hemorrhaging subscribers... You're the smallest of the nation-wide carriers. And while you had an okay Q1 it was still dissapointing. And I think I know why. Your phones suck. I've been with Sprint for about 7 years. I moved from ATT when I got a new job and got a great discount on sprint. I've been totally happy with the service. You have really great customer service–one of the big reasons I've stayed with Sprint. Also I've loved s

Evolution of the tantrum

We recently had Miloh evaluated and it was confirmed that he's throwing tantrums at a level of kids twice his age. Another interesting fact is that he can string words together in a sentence structure better than I can even though he can barely speak. I've been watching how his tantrums have evolved and came up with an infographic of the evolution of the tantrum. There may be other levels we haven't hit such as ones that include running away from home or yelling at your sister during Yom Kippur services when you're only four rows away from the Rabbi (hypothetically) but I'm confident this will bring us to the terrible twos as they seem to be stuck at level 6, and have gone down in the amount of time for each.

Miloh gets his own wheels: finally the trike (part three of definitely three posts in the award winning wheels series of posts)

If you follow me on twitter or work with me you're probably going to be glad this day is here... You won't have to hear about me building a trike for Miloh any more (actually it's only 97.6% done so I'll have a bit of talking to do). Here's how the whole thing started. Before Miloh was born, when he was just MF, I started looking for his first set of wheels. I found a cool limited edition trike made by James Perse. I wanted it but there were two problems. One it was probably quite expensive... Two it was sold out. So I was now on a mission to create a cool bike for Miloh... and all matte black bike. I realized that the frame of the James Perse trike is actually a Roadster Trike . Then I had my plan. Get a used Scwhinn, strip it, powder coat it and pimp it out for Miloh. I hopped on Craigslist and found a used trike for $25. It was a bit beat up (chipped paint, a broken pedal, and dented fenders). The fenders were no matter because I was ditching them. The