Week 21 – Dirty Secret

Dirty Secret

Dirty Secret

Last week, in response to the post about Little Dude’s acrobatics, Lady in the Shoe left the following comment:

“That Little Dude won’t be happy unless he is flying moch 3 with his hair on fire . . . wow is he a dare devil!

The Wiggles are creepy and so are a lot of other kids shows. Just know that most shows spend time and money researching the learning and entertainment from the kids’ perspective.  And enjoy!

PS  That is one loved swing – judging from the loks of the pillow…hahaha”

Ah, that Lady in the Shoe, as witty as she is wise.  Nice Top Gun quote; touche.  And great Wiggles input; gracias.  But the point I would like to emphasize is her PS.

“PS  That is one loved swing – judging from the loks of the pillow…hahaha”

Well, thanks for pointing out that the swing was looking grungy.  Are you picking up on the sarcasm?  There’s a little layered in there.

The Shoe Lady’s comment gave me a great reason to crack the whip.  Mrs. Dude had to take some advanced engineering classes to figure out how to get the swing off the stand, but Lady in the Shoe, you’ll be happy to know we are no longer sitting our child in filth on a regular basis…not in the swing anyway.

Other than calling us on our lack of hygiene, Lady in the Shoe made an important point.  That swing has indeed seen much love over the course of the first 21 weeks of L.D.’s existence.

In fact, it has been the sole slumber zone for all 140 nights leading up to this past week.

Little Dude fell in love with the swing immediately…as in the first night he arrived home.  The constant motion put him out quick and kept him out.  We’ve settled into a routine where he’s now waking up once a night to eat, but there were plenty of nights early on where he was giving us a full night sleep in that swinging miracle.

However, we received advisory suggestions from multiple sources that mentioned we should have had him out of the swing and in his crib weeks ago.  I think the Pediatrician may have been one of those advisory sources.  And I think Mrs. Dude may have fibbed about his sleeping locale at the last appointment.  Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Well, no worries.  The dirty secret (literally and figuratively) has been cleansed from our lives.  Little Dude is officially a crib sleeper.

And the best part is he loves it!

We thought it was Little Dude that needed to be in the swing.  We thought we would have countless sleepless nights and a cranky little boy when we made the move.  We intimidated ourselves into believing that we needed to choose the absolute perfect time to make the transition.

And none of that was accurate.  Little Dude took to the change immediately.

What the crib lacks in motion, it more than makes up for in comfy, comfy roominess.  Little Dude loves the space to stretch out.  He’s now taking all naps, and sleeping full nights in the crib.

So, I guess the lesson for week 21 is don’t stress about changes.  Kids will make it work.  There may be a few bumps in the road, but no need to wait for the perfect opportunity to change…there’s no such thing as the perfect opportunity.

Well, that, and before you post a picture of your child’s swing on the internet, make sure it’s clean.

Daily Pixels: Please Keep Head and Arms Inside Ride

I’m generally a “we don’t need know stinkin’ straps” kind of guy.  What can I say?…I like to fly by the seat of my pants.

That’s Right Ice…Man; I am dangerous.”

Luckily, Mrs. Dude likes to enforce the rules.

Eyes off him for a minute, and I turn around to see him watching The Wiggles upside down.  (Am I the only one that finds those men a bit creepy?)   I guess we’ve reached the wiggle-worm stage.

Lesson learned, straps are a must.

Please Keep Head & Arms in Ride

Please Keep Head & Arms in Ride

Daily Pixels: Eat It

The development just keeps on rollin’.  Kid won’t stop growing.

Sweet potatoes and bananas so far, but we have all sorts of goodies on the ready.

Cliché? Definitely.  Even at five months the thought crosses your mind: “They grow too fast.”   As much as I look forward to the next stage, I already miss where we just came from.

I guess it’s the now that matters most anyway.

PS – As you read the title of the post, I’d like to suggest that you have Weird Al singing in your head.

Have some more yogurt.  Have some more spam.  It doesn’t matter if it’s fresh or if it’s canned.” Lyrical genius.

Eat It

Eat It

Daily Pixels: Fantastic Voyage

The Dude has been on hiatus.  A fantastic voyage to San Antonio, TX this week set the posting back a bit.  Time to catchup.  Little Dude developments, the end of Princess’ soccer season, Halloween, a new Dude Knows Best installment, “Princess Pixels”…lots in store to makeup for the time off.

The journey was actually a business trip full of, well, business.  While San Antonio is a nice city, given the workload and lack of free time, I wouldn’t really qualify the trip as a fantastic voyage , but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to reference Coolio.  (Although I did ride a mechanical bull…including a cowboy hat, sit on a 2k pound bull named Oreo, and visit the Alamo!…sort of fantastic, I guess.)

While I was off gallivanting around the Lone Star state, Mrs. Dude was left on her own for four days to hold down Casa de Dude, manage the dogs, and regulate the rug-rats.  Quite the task.  Thanks Mrs. Dude.  I’m happy to report that everyone survived in one piece.

However, while I may have been on hiatus, Little Dude was not.  Gone for four days, and L.D. decides to start feeding himself?!  Really Little Dude?  You’re going to go and grow up while I’m not here to watch it?!  You need to slow your roll.  Daddy needs to see this kind of stuff in person.

As much as I can’t wait for him to be older so we can do all sorts of Dude/Little Dude stuff, it’s tough to see this little guy getting so big so quick.  I guess life is full of great paradoxes.

Keep on keepin’ on Little Dude.

Fantastic Voyage

Fantastic Voyage

I Totally Redeemed Myself

Little Dude - Brooke Mayo

Little Dude - Brooke Mayo

An interesting Dude Family fact:  The Dude’s Mom, Dad, and Grandma (Mom’s Mom) all share the same birthday.  Today.

Bizarre.

Happy Birthday Mom, Dad, & Gram!

As a birthday gift (kind of), here’s a picture of your grand-baby taken by a rad photographer, Brooke Mayo.

My dad graduated with a master’s degree in math.  Old school math degree too.  They only had a calculator in the library that they all shared to break down ridiculous master’s degree math problems.  Nuts.  Clearly the man must know some math.

So I asked today what are the odds of all the same b-days.  Seems like he should be able to rattle this fact off.  He’s known Mama Dukes and Gram from like forty years.  Wouldn’t you think that crazy math mind would have to know the answer to this?

All I got in return was:   “If there are 20 people in a room the odds that 2 have the same birthday is over 50%.”

Huh?

Did he just give me his math homework?  My head hurt trying to figure it out, so I left it alone.

Anyway, of course I got the cards in the mail on time, and I gave each a birthday message today, but I totally redeemed myself on a Skype message with my Dad.

Dude: Happy b-day old man.  🙂 [10:40:11 AM]

Dude’s Padre: Thank you.  Mom and I will step out for a nice dinner at Bonefish Grille tonight.

Do you think you know how old mom and I are? [10:40:35 AM]

Dude: How old?  Hmmm.  I’ve been blessed with a memory like your’s (Dude’s Padre can’t recall where he was an hour ago.), so I’m not sure, but I’ll take a stab.

Mom = 61

Dad = 64

Bingo? [10:48:17 AM]

Dude’s Padre: right on Bucko. [10:48:33 AM]

It’s kind of funny that my Dad and I Skype like we’re stuck in the 1950’s. “Old man?”  “Step out?”  “Bingo?”  “Bucko?”  Sounds like a Leave it to Beaver episode.

Anyway, did you see how I totally redeemed myself there?  There’s no way he thought I knew their age.  And neither did I.

But bingo, I pulled it out.  Nice work Dude.

Not sure how I knew that.

Sort of reminds me of…

Week 17: Occupational Hazards

Occupational Hazards

Occupational Hazards

“Does he smell?” As she holds his ass in the air.

And the Dude’s first reaction is to lean over for  a sniff!?  “Nope.”

Later the same day, as I dozed off on the couch for an afternoon siesta, Mrs. Dude asked if a sleeping Little Dude could lay with me.  Of course the answer was yes.  As she laid him on my chest, we realized the turd had definitely escaped.

But he’s sleeping.  We knew we were safer if we let him sleep.  So The Boy and his dirty diaper dozed with me for a half hour.

Occupational hazards I guess.

Make no mistake about it, parenting is an occupation.  But an occupation unlike any other.  I’m still new at this game; I’m sure Mr. Huxtable could drop some parenting knowledge on me, but from what I gather, there is a lot of hard work and a lot of sacrifice.

Can you think of any other job you would volunteer to be on call 24/7 for zero pay (actually pay them to work…I think the average kid costs like a bazillion dollars these days.)?  And sniff butts and nap with a dirty diaper?  I think not.

Some jobs run the risk of carpal tunnel.  Parenting runs the risk of no sleep and stank butts.

On the flip side, the obvious response is that the rewards of watching your kids grow up are priceless.  No argument there.

But the effort involved is somewhat priceless too.  It’s tough to find the same dedication a parent is willing offer.

Week 17 brought on a battle with the Hands, Foot, and Mouth virus.  7+ days of cranking.

Since Little Dude is already fighting through reflux, we didn’t realize the cranking could be HFM until some hives arrived.  We confirmed it at the doctor the next day.

Reflux and HFM lead to a worn out Little Guy.  He handled it all pretty well, but the true champion is Mrs. Dude.  A worn out kid leads to a worn out parent…someone needs to pick up the slack.

Parenting in general is an occupation full of hazards, but an at-home mom is like pulling double-shifts every day…for years.  No time off, no personal space, 100% attention on someone else’s well-being.

Thanks for all of the hard work Mrs. Dude.  You’re an amazing Mom.

Daily Pixels: Tree Hugging Weather

In a previous post I mentioned that a rainy Sunday can be a blessing.  It’s safe to say a Sunday with bright sun, blue skies, no wind, and 75 degree temps is a blessing too.

Thanks Mama Nature.  The perfect weather to head outside for some time soaking up fall…tree hugging weather.  No actual trees were hugged, but we did consider it.

Tree Hugging

L.D. slightly over-dressed

Tree Hugging

I need a tree to hug

Tree Hugging

Sea Turtle Boil

Tiny Turtle Tracks

Tiny Turtle Tracks

Surprise!

Surprise!

Tree Hugger in the Making

Tree Hugger in the Making

Daily Pixels: Consumption

Consumption comes in many forms.

The list of consumable items is almost endless.    Liquids we swallow, foods we eat, time spent, energy used, etc.

Kids require parents to increase our rate of consumption to keep up with their needs.  We are now consuming for an additional being.  A being too defenseless to consume on their own.

While I thought I was prepared for this increase in consumption, I was not prepared for all aspects of consumption.  I grew accustom to the idea that Little Dude would require us to improve our support of this capitalist society through ridiculous purchases.  But it never really dawned on me that our space would be consumed quite like this.

Six baby “relaxing stations” in a 20 x 20 area!

Casa de Dude is pretty much a baby spa these days.

Baby Spa

Baby Spa

Week 15 – Time for a Trim

Little Dude's 1st Trim

Little Dude's 1st Trim

Some babies don’t have hair by week 15.  Little Dude, time for the first haircut.

Little Dude popped out with a full head of hair.  Which is a bit startling considering the Dude’s dome is hairless.

I was begging Mrs. Dude on day one to let me shave a legit mohawk.  How outrageous would a one week old with a mohawak be?!  Grandmas would be fainting.  Hilarious.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Dude wasn’t having it. 

But, Mother Nature was on the Dude’s side.  Over the course of the first 15 weeks, Little Dude’s gorgeous coif was slowly reduced to old man hair.

Last night, Mrs. Dude said she was ready for the trim, and the rest is history…