Nuevo Invisible Fence

When I see other parents out and they are using some form of leash on their child I always feel a bit strange. It does seem as though they are granting their children the same amount of respect they would grant their pets. Conversly I will probably use some form of leash when TheBoy gets older so that way he has some what more freedom than if he had to stay right next to me the entire time.

What is strange is that while it may afford a more discreet method of travel essentially I am on a leash every day. This is not some monologue by a hack comedian about how "my wife has me on such a leash, I can't even go to the grocery store by myself because I am so incompetant... har har har." No I actually have an electronic leash and it goes by the handy moniker of baby monitor.

No matter what I am doing, if TheBoy is not with me then I have to take the electronic leash with me. Sometimes I sneak out of the house without it, if I need to run a bag of trash to the curb or something similar, but for all intents and purposes I have it near me always.

So it would seem that the real person I feel sorry for when I see a child wearing one in public is myself.

Pastel Exorcism

Finally he has reached an age where the only available options no longer involve pastel shades of primary and secondary colors. Although that leads to a further discussion as to the idea of a pastel brown, could there be such a horrible things. If there is I lament the poor individual whose parents impose that upon them. Even worse if those parents take pictures, for the evidence of that act should haunt him to the ends of time.

As for the boy he is finally able to wear some clothes that make him look not just good, but dangerously good. I now worry about the possibility that he will manage to know some girl up and that his childhood will be over. Oh I know that according to "science" it is impossible, but my faith tells me otherwise. I mean the expression 'babies having babies' comes from somewhere right?

So he can finally wear clothes that make him look like a person and not like a baby. That is a strange sentence, he is of course a baby but also a person. Anyway the clothing now looks good, in particular we found this great denim jacket that makes him look so cool. The other day he was wearing it for some pictures and I kept expecting him to break out in "Born to Run," of "Jack and Diane." He didn't.

Right now we seem to be favoring the khakis and button up shirt looks. Though I don't know for how much longer since he has already begun trying to put everything in his mouth and I don't want to give him ammunition in the form of little plastic buttons. For now though he looks too good not to let him wear the button up shirts.

Vaccination

While modern medicine holds the answers to a longer, healthier and happier life; there are some aspects that still remain mostly disturbing. Not disturbing like finding out your pharmacist has been watering down your cancer medication, no disturbing like reading the accounts of traveling ice pick lobotomist. The method for insertion and removal of items from the blood stream is still something that has changed little, in concept, from the time of inception.

When taking the boy in for his necessary vaccines the nurses hover above and prepare their instruments while the father, in this case me, is instructed to hold his hands up. From then on what happens cannot be described as a pretty picture, for the amount of blood and tears that fill the room would disquieted to even the most hardened soldier.

The syringes, yes plural, pierce his flesh and after squeezing the liquid through are quickly removed and gauze applied to the area. Of course once the needles penetrated, the screaming begins, and with no language to communicate, no consolation is possible. Then the process is repeated as necessary to prepare the internal defenses against the 'beauty' of nature, and all the tiny creatures she has created to invade the body.

Even after the crying has subsided there is still that awful face staring back at me. The distended lower lip inducing subduction on the upper, the eyes still filled with tears looking back at me. Oh the thoughts that must invade the mind, the trust that must be lost as he stares back at me, the one who held him down and allowed this to happen. The first few hours were toughest, the face of horror remained, eventually it subsided but can it be completely forgotten?

Sleepless Nights.

The way the schedule is arranged at our house is thus: I stay awake until two or three to make sure he doesn't wake up and want a snack. I then go to bed and when the wife wakes at five for work she wakes him no later than six (assuming he isn't already awake.) She puts him back down at seven when she heads to work and he normally lets me sleep until ten or so in the morning.

While this is a great arrangement in theory the problem comes from the implementation and the side effects. What ends up happening is a type of paranoia that comes from worrying that he is awake and this leads to checking the Baby Monitor every five minutes when you are the one who has to be there if he wakes. So from 2-7 I get great sleep, after that I find myself waking every few minutes (probably not literally) to check the monitor and make sure I didn't hear him cry, because I think I did, no it couldn't have been the red bars haven't filled. There is of course the same problem for the wife only her ideal time is from 9-3, then she is the one who has to be ready if he wakes.

The real problem is the responsibility, knowing that you have to be the one to get up if he starts crying and knowing that he is dependant on you makes you crazy. So while technically we each get around eight hours of sleep, the reality is closer to five

Smiling

DST

So it would seem that many decades ago (4) the US Congress foresaw that it by passing a certain law would adversely effect my sleep patterns. They knew that mandates passed at a federal level would standardize a practice that has recently come to cause mild irritation in this household. Yes the three words that bring about the most resentment in this house are 'Daylight Savings Time.'

After three months The Boy was finally on a great schedule. Pater (Dad) would put The Boy down around 11:00 pm as Mater (Mom) had gone to bed around 9 or 10. The Boy would sleep until 5 when Mater had to get up anyway so she would feed him and he would sleep until Pater woke around 7.

I look back on this time period fondly, it will henceforth be referred to as the golden time. Well our life sans the child was pretty nice, but we will consider this the Aurum Aetas Post Natalem (Golden Age After Birth.)

You can try, as I have, to explain to an infant that the time has changed and so accordingly so should he. Efforts like this are to no avail. He has continued his protest of the policy in defiance of all authority figures and has repeatedly quoted Patrick Henry, Thomas Paine, and even Voltaire. The latter threw me for a loop and I began to suspect that he was merely looking to be a martyr for the cause.

I tried to reason with him that his protest was far to small and he would better suited to protest when the time changes not after the time reverts. He became irate and demanded I call every person in government that is elected to explain the importance of his sleep schedule, briefly I relented. After a lengthy discussion with the secretary of state about how he has no way to change this and to quit calling him on Saturdays at 4 in the morning I gave up this tactic. The Boy has been inconsolable since and has begun demanding a recount of all elections.

So we sit at a stale mate, he refuses to get back on a schedule and we are left unable to sleep. Analysis would reveal that is no so much a stalemate as he is clearly winning.

Sleep.

"A Glimpse, Jack"

The Boy has taken an extended hiatus from living under my tyranny and has sought refuge at his paternal grandparents. Preparing for his final attempt at eliminating the oligarchy that exists at his primary domicile, his patria if you will, this attempt will of course be quashed as all past attempts have been. Under this banner of 'food whenever' and 'spitting up, no problem' he has enlisted Lucy, faithful compatriot. With the matriarch out of the picture (visiting the mile high city,) these rogues (or in their vernacular 'freedom fighters') are convinced their coup will be successful. Even though the cat possess opposable thumbs, she would not be able to stir his formula, and The Boy lacks the strength to pour cat food, hopefully discontent can be spread throughout their camp.
However the time with the empty house will certainly be utilized, with the wife out of town and The Boy off at Gramma's, some rest should be enjoyed. Yes with no crying for food from the former and no crying for attention from the later, time will seem to fly. But most importantly is the freedom from patiently waiting for the boy to actually fall asleep, battling with his eyelids as slumber attempts to take the pass, guarded by consciousness which fights to keep its ground. The Consternation felt by those who wait and see what will happen is made particularly dramatic by the tendency to cry if he awakens too soon, if the eyelids can only hold their ground for a few seconds or several minutes, the tears are released. His appreciable anger at missing out on the world seems to fill not only him, but the room if his he expresses the anger audibly.
Yes when the Boy attempts to sleep those around him wait, with baited breath, they bite their tongue with anticipation. Unless you are one of the boys grandparents, then you try to wake him, thus the parental conundrum is complete, parents enjoy the peace of a sleeping child and - grandparents enjoy that of an attentive grandchild.

[See Above Video]

Innovation

It is seems shocking to me that there has never been an attempt to capitalize on a simple concept, one that could reap millions for a device everyone has. It would be simple to include and cheap to produce, those in the industry could find the right one and most likely from somewhere in their family, very little R&D would be needed. Yes this simple fix, change, modification if you will would revolutionize the industry.

Instead of the solid or alternating beeps currently used in alarm clocks why not replace that pleasant sound with the vocalization of an unhappy infant. As I have come to enjoy the sound that wakes me everyday after I have had the perfunctory two hours of sleep, what a pleasant sound it is. One of life's greatest pleasures is the auditory emanation signaling it is time to return my life of servitude. Luckily for me I have trained my once blissfully ignorant human ears to be more consistent with those of the Felis or Panthera Genus.

Making sure to wake when he begins the 'cooing' stage seems to be the best answer for sanity and mental health in general. Beginning his feeding/changing ritual at this stage leads to decibel levels that are much more consistent with a life that includes audible enjoyment in the future. Utilizing (or even enjoying) the precious few minutes of sleep that would occur between the 'cooing' and crying stages is without question not worth the shredded remains that you once called your ears.

Yes babies are so precious, that is all I can think about as the boy is screaming so loud and so long he begins to go hoarse. Yes, babies are so precious.