Auntie Em, Auntie Em

Downtown Kansas City - May 24, 2011

So, here we are in the middle of the month of May, and another springtime in Kansas City. Being in the Midwest, and growing up here, supercell thunderstorms and tornados are just a part of life.

When I was little, tornados and severe weather used to freak me out, like most children. But I came to embrace it as I got older. I love thunderstorms and tornados now, for the sheer power and energy contained in them...but I only love them when they do not hurt or kill anyone, or cause any property damage. A dream job of mine has always been to be a tornado and storm chaser. Seeing a tornado is like a rite of passage for those who are born and bred in the Midwest. I've had a few encounters with them, and they are something to behold. But nothing to play around with either.

However, with the recent tragedy last Sunday in Joplin, and the 125 persons (so far) that tornado claimed, it really puts things into perspective...especially since this hit sort of close to home (2+ hours driving to the south of Kansas City). This isn't the first EF5 tornado to strike, and it won't be the last, and it being "the deadliest tornado in US history," it has made me stop and pay attention a bit more.

Before Evan, when tornado sirens were sounded, I did one of two things. I either ignored them completely, or I went outside to see if I could see anything. I think I can count on one hand how many times in my life I've had to seek shelter...and all that was from my childhood when the tornados were too close for my parents' comfort.

Today, though, I was home alone with Evan. Linda was at work and the news cut into programming with a tornado warning for a county south of us. I called my dad to let him know, since it affected where he was...then called and texted Linda since she works near there. She had already evacuated to a stairwell in her office complex. Then the sirens sounded here at home.

I don't get worked up and go into a panic when things like this happen, but with the stories coming from Joplin rolling through my mind, mainly about the heartbreaking story of the 16 month old child (just a few months older than Evan) that was sucked from his mother's grip in Joplin last Sunday when the tornado struck their house...I couldn't help that my heart started to race. I had just laid Evan down for a nap. I paced back and forth, went outside to observe, and debated about going downstairs to our basement.

Linda text me that they were waiting the storm out and a tornado was spotted on the ground about 2 miles from where she was. She then sent a text immediately following that one that I should probably go to the basement with Evan, if I wasn't already there. Evan had been napping for about 10 minutes, and I went to grab him, gathered Truman, and headed downstairs.

Our condo is about 80 years old, with a dark, dingy, dirty, smelly stone basement that reeks of mildew. I was not gonna let Evan down and toddle around on the gross floor, so I held him for the entire time until the storm passed...which was a good 45 minutes. While down there, I started looking around at this basement for a game plan for worst case scenario, running through all possible outcomes. There would be no way we could be all that safe in this old building. It's all made of and has the original brick and mortar... The basement leaks and has glass windows near the ceiling. There is no interior room to take cover in. How would I protect Evan and Truman and myself if our building took a direct hit? There really wasn't a good place for us to hide. Tonight, Linda & I decided that our new place of refuge will be our interior hall coat closet...

Thankfully, we didn't have to worry about that, and I scoured facebook on my phone for updates since we don't have a weather radio. The sirens went off, re-sounded, and went off again for almost an hour...and by the time the all clear was given, my humerus felt as if it was gonna detach from my scapula...holding a chunk-and-a-half of a boy for that long will do it to you.

As I've stated before in prior posts, having a baby really changes everything. If we never had Evan, I would not have even given a thought about going to the basement. But I've got this innocent life I have to protect now, and I will do whatever I can to make sure he's safe, even if I die doing it.

Tomorrow I'm going to scour the city for a weather radio. It's time to buy one, especially with how this tornado season is going...

Happy Mother's Day...to me?

So this post is a little bit late... I wish I was able to spend this past Mother's Day with Linda and Evan, but unfortunately I had to work a 13 hour shift Sunday... Linda got her Mother's Day gifts a bit early from Evan & me...and Linda & I celebrated with a date-night Saturday with dinner & a movie.

It was somewhat amusing when I came into work last Sunday and was greeted by one coworker wishing me a Happy Mother's Day. I chuckled at the thought, knowing they refer to me as "Mr. Mom". Then a second coworker wished me the same thing a few hours later. Then at the end of my shift, a third coworker told me that she wished I had a great Mother's Day. By this point, it was a little annoying... I know they mean well, but I had no desire to steal Linda's thunder. She is Evan's mom. I am his dad. She loves him the way a mother loves her son. She wipes his tears, his butt, his nose, his mouth; she loves and nurtures him; she gave him life for Pete's sake! She pushed his 9 lbs 3 oz, 21 inch body and 12 inches round head out of somewhere I can't even imagine...all in 20 minutes and in 3 pushes. She deserves her Mother's Day wishes...not me!

During Evan's first year of life, it was impossible for us as a couple to get out and enjoy ourselves. I've come to find out this is necessity for new parents. We have promised each other that at least once a month, Linda & I will find a sitter and get out for a date-night. Last Saturday was our date night, and a Mother's Day celebration for Linda. We had gift certificates for dinner and a movie, so ate at On The Border and went to see "Water For Elephants". Good dinner, good movie (if you hadn't read the book recently like me - of course the book is much, much better)...it was nice to get out as just us.

Friday as I was out picking up groceries and waiting for an oil change at Walmart, Evan & I meandered around the store... We passed the floral area, and Evan pointed to some roses and exclaimed "Ga! Ga! Ga!" I took that to mean, "Momma needs those for Mother's Day!" I picked up a photo frame collage for Linda to take to work and a couple cards.

I do hope Linda had a good Mother's Day, even though we hardly got to spend the actual day together. I hope she knows how much she means to me and what an awesome mom she is to Evan.

A Glimpse Into Being a Single Father

Linda left for a business trip to Colorado Springs and Denver this past Sunday...and she will return later this evening. This isn't her first business trip since Evan was born, but it's definitely the longest in more ways than one.

Since I'm pretty much a stay-at-home-dad, and have been since Linda went back from maternity leave last June, I really had no uneasy feelings about her being gone for so long. I am really Evan's primary caregiver, and have dealt with a variety of things with him. Since last June, I've arranged my schedule with work to be able to stay home with him most weekdays, Monday-Friday, from the time he wakes up to about an hour before he goes to bed, which is when Linda usually gets home from work. This works out great, because I am able to break away and get a moment to myself...however I'm usually making dinner while Linda plays with Evan and gets some time with him on her own. He only stays with a sitter a few hours, if need be, if I'm unable to trade off a day. I never thought these past three days would be so trying.

Sunday, after I got off a 15 hour shift, I went to pick up Evan from his Aunt Noreen's since I was working late and Linda's flight was in the evening. By the time we got home, it was 10:00pm, and I didn't have any problems getting him to bed. Even though I was exhausted, I got the breaking news alert from CNN about Osama Bin Laden's death, and stayed up to watch President Obama address the nation, and watch the media coverage...I didn't actually turn off the TV til about midnight. I was up close to 20 hours.

Monday morning, I was too drained to do anything, and hoped Evan would be good for me so I could have a lazy day. He slept til 7:30. He was a bit fussy during the morning, but cheered up later in the afternoon. This worked out perfect for me, and we just had a movie day.

Yesterday, Tuesday, was a completely different story. Evan woke up, screaming (as usual), at 7:15. Normally, after we get him up and change his diaper, we'll let him play in his room by himself for maybe 30-45 minutes while we listen over the baby monitor, while we get things going for the day (e.g. get Truman up, let out and fed; make coffee; go pee; maybe a shower). He usually plays happily with his toys and will let us know when he's ready for us to get him. He didn't want any of this yesterday.

He was in one of those moods where he wasn't happy playing by himself, he wasn't happy with me holding him, he wasn't happy playing in the living room, didn't want to snuggle, didn't want to be read to, didn't want to eat...nothing. He screamed all day, and nothing I did appeased him.

His favorite foods right now are anything that is smothered in peanut butter, or ketchup; bananas or chicken nuggets. I made him a waffle and laid the peanut butter on thick and had a banana for him to eat. Didn't want it. Only wanted to throw it over the side of his highchair. He has been known to gobble a whole waffle down in no time flat.

I tried everything. Since his molars are erupting, I figured he was in some discomfort with those, and gave him a dose of Advil. Usually that sets in and within 30 minutes, he's a happy camper. Nope, didn't work. He was also farting up a storm yesterday, so I tried some Mylicon. Didn't work either. He was just pissed off at the world. Anytime I tried to leave the room to get something on my list of chores done, the moment I would leave his sight, he would break out into a tantrum.

Thinking he was tired, I laid him down for a nap. I had a huge list of things I had/needed to get done around the house (none of which I actually got accomplished, except the dishes). I think he heard me clattering around in the kitchen loading the dishwasher, and only napped for about 30 minutes. I started counting down the minutes until I put him to bed for the night...at noon...still 8 long hours to go before bedtime.

The rest of the day was spent with me trying my darnedest to make him happy with no luck. He didn't want to be read to, didn't want to play, didn't want to eat. Lunch time I gave him chicken nuggets...which promptly ended up on the floor for Truman to scavenge for...

Linda & I tried to FaceTime with each other around the time of his second nap. We had to cut our conversation short due to Evan being a grump. Since it was later in the afternoon, I didn't want him to sleep too long. I dozed with him on the couch for about 45 minutes. I should have let him sleep a bit more, but since I was counting down the minutes to 8 o'clock, I woke him up after about an hour. And talk about the wrath of Evan! He screamed, fussed, cried, fought...I'm sure he cussed me out, if I could only understand baby babble.

Exhausted and hungry, I finally fixed a frozen pizza for myself at about 7:30. And go figure...as soon as 7:30 rolled around last night, he was a happy camper...and demanded bites of my pizza. He ate maybe a third of my slice (with the onions, pepperoni, sausage, and peppers picked off). He then played happily in the living room, toddling all over the house, laughing and in a great mood. I stretched him out 45 minutes past his usual bedtime and he went to sleep with no problem. After Evan was sleeping peacefully, I searched in vain for an adult beverage. I took inventory of our liquor cabinet - two bottles of vodka, two bottles of rum, two bottles of scotch, a bottle of whisky, half a bottle of Cointreau, an unopened 4 year old bottle of Jägermeister, an even older opened bottle of port wine, a half gone bottle of Margarita mix, no red wine, a half drank bottle of some gross white wine in the fridge...then finally I scored! One lonely bottle of Bud Light in the back of the fridge. I promptly popped the cap off and guzzled it down. I think I deserved it!

The only good thing about yesterday was that Evan gave me his first kiss! He leaned toward me and puckered up just a bit... So, I guess that should make up for the cantankerous attitude I had to manage with yesterday.

This morning he woke up screaming at 5:45. I'm pretty sure he was trained to scream by Jamie Lee Curtis. I'm not exactly sure what to make of this screaming. He sleeps through the night, but every morning for the past 2 or 3 months, when he wakes in the morning, he SCREAMS. There's no rousing. Just one minute sleeping peacefully, the next minute screaming like someone's murdering him. Some of my friends have suggested that maybe he has night terrors. But he doesn't wake up in the middle of the night like this...it's been a long time since we've had to get up with him in the middle of the night. I don't know what to make of it. Linda & I used to rush into his room to calm him down. Now we are taking a different approach. Let him scream it out for 5-10 minutes and see if he goes back to sleep. If after 5 or 10 minutes, if he's still screaming, we'll go in to comfort him. This morning, he screamed for 7 minutes and fell back to sleep for another hour.

However, I didn't. I laid in bed for 20 minutes, trying in vain to catch a few more minutes of sleep...but was wide awake. Wouldn't you be after being startled awake by that?

So far this morning, he's playing happily in his room. I am counting down the minutes until Linda's plane lands. These past few days of being a single dad have been exhausting and draining. Just when I thought I could handle it, Evan had to prove me wrong. I did handle it...well...I dealt with it.

Linda's got another business trip in two weeks to New York. Then another one the week after to Houston. Thankfully, those are just overnight trips, there and back.

My props go out to all the single parents out there that have to handle days like these all the time with no help...I really don't know how you all do it by yourself!

13 months (almost)

One of my favorite sports writers wrote a column, celebrating day 2 of the baseball season. In it, he said no one goes all crazy for Day 2 like they do for opening day. I guess the same could be said for hitting the almost 13-month milestone for your son or daughter. 13 months is just a day on the calendar and not one that is circled. There are no parties for 13 months - and most parents stop taking the monthly photo after 12. So, in Joe Posnanski's spirit this post celebrates the almost 13 month age of Evan.

I had grand plans to write a whole year-in-review, commemorating E's first birthday. Then life and a really ridiculous schedule got in the way. Today, I am preparing for my fourth or fifth work trip out of town since Evan was born, and the 1st of what will be three in May, and four in the next 10 weeks. I'm not complaining. All of the trips represent great opportunities for meeting personal and team goals this year. This Q2 schedule is just a bit frantic. On the plus side, 3 of the next four trips are in places where I have some friends from college, so we will likely get to have some brief reunions, which are always fun!

Yesterday, I was watching Evan and suddenly realized he's not a baby anymore. He's a toddler/little boy. WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN? He's much more independent and walking very well. He understands words, but doesn't really say them yet, except "KEEEY" for Frank the Cat. His Aunt Nor Nor bought him an inflatable penguin for Christmas. It has a heavy base, so its like one of those punching bags that always pops back up. He was afraid of it at first and now loves it! When we are in his room, I'll ask, "Evan, where's your penguin?" and he will go straight over to it, grab it and start playing with it.

Evan wants to feed himself most of the time now and has developed a love for peanut butter and ketchup (not together, but he prefers one of these items be on the food you are giving him). This is all Brian here. I am not a ketchup fan, and the only time I have a hankering for peanut butter is when I want a Reese's cup.

The boy is a climber and his parents and the world are his jungle gym. But I guess if we are going to celebrate being a boy and not a baby, this is the best part. Playing is so much FUN! You never know what he is going to find hysterical from one day to the next. Pillow fights are the thing right now. I'll gently go "boom boom boom" with one of the couch pillows to his tummy and you'd think, by the way he laughs, I was a professional comedienne.

The worst part about him being a little boy now and not a baby is the fact that he is a little boy now. He's fearless - and tough. Much tougher than myself. I have about 7 different heart attacks a day watching him take off across the living room and fall. I've learned that I can't leap the entire length of the condo in a single bound to catch him. I've done that and it hurts. I've also learned that I don't need to catch him. He falls down about once every 3 minutes. All we need to do is steer him away from potential head traumas and let him figure out the rest. And don't react when he does fall. If you say "ooh, or eww!" he will cry. Say nothing and he sits back up 99% of the time and continues on like nothing happened.

As a little boy, he's also hell bent on terrorizing the pets. He grabbed a hold of Truman's ear yesterday and wouldn't let go. I had stepped out of the room to go switch out laundry and when I came back in, Truman was sitting beside Evan with a very distraught expression. Then I saw Evan's fist CLINCHING the poor dog's ear. Evan chases Frank under the dining room table and belly flops on him or grabs his tail (something Truman doesn't have). To Frank's credit, he's only scratched him once or twice and that was when E was trying to pull his tail off of his backside. We keep correcting him and hopefully he will learn how to be nice to the doggie and kitty.

Evan is figuring things out. When we went over to Nana Vada and Papa Tim's house after his first birthday party, he grabbed the remote (batteries removed) and pointed it at the TV. He was very upset when nothing happened. He's reaching for door knobs now and trying to turn and open them up. He's fascinated by lights and clocks. He can now climb onto the airplane toy Aunt Bridgett and Uncle Mark got him for his birthday and scoot it across the room. He's even in a big(ger) boy car seat now, having outgrown his infant seat.

So here's to my almost 13-month-old boy! 13 months is, indeed, a milestone. 13 months means not only have we survived and thrived through the first year, we are officially into the whole day-to-day life of parents.

While I may be a bit biased, I'm still quite certain he's among the cutest little boys on the planet. Proof is posted below. :)

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