Halftime special

This past Saturday was Kyle's half-birthday. Hard to believe, isn't it? The day was relatively low-key: the biggest excitement was us feeding him mush that smelled like green beans. There was a party that evening, but it wasn't to celebrate Kyle. No, instead it was a Christmas party. And that's the sad truth that Kyle will have to live with: throughout his life, his half-birthday will be overshadowed by Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Boxing Day, and New Year's. He will easily get lost in the shuffle, no doubt. Very few people even recognized his first half-birthday, and he didn't get any gifts (except for the green beans). No, Kyle won't have it easy like those other kids who have their half-birthdays in June, especially on June 24th or 25th, when school is out and summer has begun. Those kids certainly have it easy. My only hope is that the half-birthday neglect will make Kyle stronger.

In fact, it has been a recent goal of mine to make Kyle a tougher kid. I've taken it upon myself to start teaching our little guy self-defense by throwing objects at him. You can see the video below (though people who get my posts by e-mail might have to go to the blog itself).

I figure the video can replace the photo album this month, since most of the pictures we took this time around ended up on DaveWeekly. Since we're no longer as camera-happy as we were before, I'm going to start sending out albums every other month. You still can check out the chair pictures at the end of each post.

Finally, this month also marks one year since I launched this blog. If you'd like to see just how naive we were, check out the first post. Ah, the memories... of staying up past midnight.

Enjoy the holidays!

High five

Jennifer did it! The years of hard work, studying and avoiding my many distractions finally paid off. Yesterday we learned that Jennifer passed the New York State Bar Exam.

As you may recall, the bar exam was the final part of the so-called "trifecta of insanity." In May Jennifer graduated. In June she gave birth to Kyle, taking just one week off from studying for the bar. In July she took the bar exam. The exam was extremely difficult (or so they say), but for the torture-loving people of the Bar Association, it simply wasn't enough. They needed to put all of us through more agony by waiting to reveal the test results until now. So we sat there anxiously like children waiting for Christmas, but instead of getting presents or coal from a jolly old elf and reindeer, we received our news from a bland website established by bureaucrats. Of course you know what that means: on the one day of the year the website needed to work right, it wouldn't load correctly, forcing us to wait another eternity. At least we still received a great present.

I'm glad Jennifer passed the bar, though I still have a few concerns about whether she's ready for her new career. Just the other day I asked Jennifer to make me a Long Island ice tea and she seemed awfully confused. She also didn't know how to make a white Russian or a vodka martini. That has me wondering whether that bar exam is as thorough as many have claimed it to be, and whether I will get all the perks I was expecting. At least Kyle is reaping the benefits: with all the studying done, he now has permission to drool all over Jennifer's bar prep books. That makes him one happy baby.

And speaking of Kyle... he's now five months old! Below is a new photo album. We didn't take as many pictures of Kyle this time around because he's doing fewer cute things. Don't worry, though - we've asked him to step it up for next month. He's such a slacker sometimes.

Kyle's Fifth Month

These days Kyle is trying out new foods. He's been eating rice cereal, applesauce, bananas, and pears. I hear next month we'll work our way up to vegetables, and then it's on to calamari and steaks.

Kyle is also flipping himself over and trying to crawl, though without much success. He hasn't figured out that you have to lift your head while doing it, so he ends up buffing the floor with his face and shining it with his drool. At least that's one less chore for me to do.

Life Lessons

I've received a lot of important lessons during the past several weeks. Some I learned just from observations - others came to light after some rather tragic mistakes, mostly involving food. I'd hate for anyone to be deprived of these valuable tidbits, so I figured I'd share them with you.

First Lesson: If you plan to cook a party-sized frozen vegetable lasagna, please check first how long it takes to cook. It might not take 45 minutes. In fact, it might need a full 2 hours to bake. Yours truly probably should have checked the box BEFORE dozens of people arrived at Jennifer's dad's home on the night of the visitation for Jennifer's mother. So, the lasagna had to wait for another night. Fortunately we had beer and Chex mix, and plenty of dollar-menu salads to fix the situation.

Second Lesson: If you plan to cook a party-sized frozen vegetable lasagna, make sure you put it in the oven. The day after the timing snafu, we went to church with the oven going, thinking we'd have that cheesy delight ready when we came home... only to realize then that the lasagna itself was still in the freezer. Thank goodness we had more beer. The frozen lasagna ended up becoming a nice doorstop.

Third Lesson: An airline boarding pass with a poop stain on it is still a legitimate boarding pass. It's true. I'm not sure about spit-up on a boarding pass, but I suppose we'll test that next time.

Fourth Lesson: Cows are a lot like children...



... they're often the source of foul odors.

Fifth Lesson: A child's cow costume does not guarantee Halloween candy for the child's dad... though a little begging helps.

Okay - enough of the lessons. I'm late with getting out some important pictures, so here they are, images from Kyle's fourth month:

Kyle's Fourth Month

I hope you enjoy them.

And one more thought, this one concerning what happened yesterday: Kyle will now grow up taking for granted that an African American was President of the United States. By the time he votes, he likely will have also seen the first (or second) female president. Kyle will grow up believing everything in this country is possible, and that any person - regardless of race or gender - can be President of the United States. For real.

It's such a great time to be an American.

Kyle's Grandma

I was planning to write this blog entry a couple weeks ago, when Kyle turned 4 months old. I was planning to include a new photo album and write about his most recent adventures, including his first flight... on a trip to Florida. But then everything changed. That visit to Florida lasted only one day, as we rushed to North Carolina for what would be our final week with Jennifer's mom and Kyle's grandma.

It all happened so suddenly; I'm still in disbelief. Just a month ago, Neal seemed perfectly healthy. There was some concern when she went to the hospital for emergency surgery, but she was in good spirits after that, and we had every reason to believe she'd make a full recovery. We had no idea then what of was about to happen, and today I just can't believe she's gone.

I've had such a hard time writing this post. I've started it over and over again, and I have found distractions to avoid it. Kyle has helped with that. A lot of times I just want to skip this one and get back to the silly stuff. Neal loved the silly stuff. She was, in fact, my biggest fan. I've been blessed to have had a lot of family and friends write me emails and tell me how much they've enjoyed my blog. Neal wrote me the most. She always would boost my confidence and make me feel good about entries I had thought were just mediocre. I would look forward to getting these emails from her, and many times I'd write a blog entry with her reaction in mind, thinking of how she or Dave (my father-in-law) would take a particular joke. During her last week, as she lay in a hospital bed, she had Dave read her the most recent entry on my DaveWeekly website. She told me how much she liked it during one of our last conversations.

Of course, she didn't read my blogs simply for the jokes. My blog provided Neal with stories about the newest love in her life: her grandson, our little Kyle. Neal reveled in being a grandmother. She had 10 years' experience, with Kyle's cousin Madison. Every time we saw Neal, she would entertain us with a new Madison story. This year gave Neal even more stories, ones about Kyle, which she told all her friends in North Carolina.

Neal was in the car with us when we brought Kyle home from the hospital, and she stayed with us for the rest of that week. She took care of the dishes, the food, and ran all kinds of errands so that Jennifer and I could concentrate on being new parents. We don't know what we would have done without her. In return, she had the honor of being the first person to be squirted by Kyle while checking a diaper.

Neal cherished all the time she had with her new grandson. Whenever she was away she'd talk about suffering from "Kyle withdrawal." We're so grateful that she was able to be with Kyle just two months ago, for his Christening. It might have been "Kyle withdrawal" that motivated Neal to get well enough so that she could move to a regular room at the hospital - just for a day - so she could be with Kyle one more time. These days, I'd like to think that Neal is getting all the Kyle she wants.

This is the second time my family has grieved this year. In May, less than a month before Kyle was born, one of his great-grandmothers, my Memere, passed away. She died on the day of Jennifer's graduation from Law School. My parents were in New York when they received the news. So were Dave and Neal. I will always remember Neal comforting us through our sadness. Shortly after the weekend, she wrote this in an email to me:

Being with you and Bob and Judi this weekend was very special and, I think, strengthened our family bonds. Sharing both happiness and sadness makes a family.

She was right, and those words echoed through my head as our family grew stronger in the days following Neal's passing. Everyone on Dave and Neal's side came to North Carolina to be with us through the visitation and funeral. Many traveled great distances. My parents were also there, and members of my side of the family helped fill the funeral home with flowers. Most of our friends also gave gifts, flowers, or made it there in person. Neal had done it - she brought us all closer together.

Later this week I plan to put a Kyle photo album together and I'll probably go back to writing silly stories, just as Neal would have liked. I will miss her emails, and although I'm certain she'll still be reading my stories, I'm sad thinking that I'll never be able to hear her response again. It's also sad that Kyle won't remember being with her. But thank God that Neal did share a lot of time with her grandson, and she wasn't sick through most of it. She did many things this year, experienced a lot of joy, and shared a tremendous amount of love, especially when the little guy arrived. Neal left us too soon, but she did go after one of the best years of her life. And I suppose we can take some comfort in that.

Lucky 13

We just passed a couple of milestones with Kyle. Yesterday marked 13 weeks since Friday, June 13th, the day Kyle was born. Today is September 13th, which means Kyle is now 3 months old, which just so happens to be 13/52nds of a year. Isn't that something? Heck, if you put a "1" in front of 3 months, you get "13." So, as you may guess, 13 is a key number in Kyle's life. Just take a look at 6/13/21, the day when Kyle will become 13 years old. If you add the numbers of that date together, 6+1+3+2+1, you get 13. Weird.

So, to mark this week's milestone, we're changing things up. We're ending Kyle's weekly chair photos with week 13. We'll continue taking those pictures, but now on a monthly basis - on the 13th of each month. That means the next time you see one of those photos is October 13th.

I'm guessing we'll keep doing the monthly thing at least until he's 13 months old, and then we'll probably do the yearly thing until he turns 13 years old. From there, we'll go decades until he's 130. At that point we'll probably have to stop doing the pictures altogether, since I'm guessing by then the bear will be a valuable antique, and we'll probably have to sell it to pay for gasoline.

Anyway, speaking of pictures, we have a new round of photos from Kyle's third month, complete with captions. You can view the slide show below, or click this link to go to the photo album: Kyle's Third Month.

With this milestone, I figure it's a good time to stop writing a weekly post on the Baby Beaudry blog. I will continue to write here, but only once a month, when we have pictures to share. Instead, I'll write most of my Kyle stories on my new blog, Daveweekly.com (for the dyslexic: WeeklyDave.com works, too). So, I hope you continue to join me there. If you're receiving posts from Baby Beaudry via e-mail, you'll have to sign up on the DaveWeekly site to get e-mails from there (I can't transfer the e-mail list). Let me know whether you have any problems with that.

Enjoy the photos, and see you at DaveWeekly.com!

(Diaper) Change you can believe in

The past two weeks were "Politics Gone Wild!" in our household, and by "wild" I simply mean politics had invaded our television. There was really nothing else wild about the weeks, unless you count the squirrel that's been scratching at our apartment window. Each night, after putting Kyle to bed, Jennifer and I would try desperately to stay awake through both the Democratic and Republican conventions, either by hitting each other in the shoulder or throwing beer in each other's faces. After all, this is HISTORIC stuff, and we didn't want to miss any of it... unless, of course, there was a good movie playing on cable.

After this election, Kyle will be living in an America that has either elected an African-American president, or a female vice president. This is phenomenal, and it makes me proud of our country. I'm hoping that either way, this election will open the floodgates, and every president and vice president afterwards will be either female or a minority. That way, in about 40 years, it'll be rare to see a white male receive a presidential nomination. That's when Kyle can step in and be a candidate of "change."

I don't want you to think that we have outlandishly high expectations for the little guy. After all, I'd be perfectly happy with him becoming just the Secretary of State. However, a parent can dream about the possibilities, and I have reason to believe that Kyle would be a great president, even if he was elected today.

First of all, Kyle is not afraid to stand up to authority. It doesn't matter who's holding him - if Kyle sees an injustice or wants food, he will let it be known and won't stop crying until a solution is found. Second, he is willing to work across party lines. I have seen him coo and smile at Republicans, Democrats, Independents and Socialists, and he has treated each one fairly. He's also not afraid to spit up on someone from his own party, either, if it means achieving what's best for his country. Third, he's a great asset to the American GDP: since his birth, Kyle has forced Jennifer and I to pump hundreds of dollars into our struggling economy, and we know he's just getting started.

Sure, some environmentalists might have a problem with the whole disposable diaper thing, but Kyle has been researching alternatives (such as his onesies and bouncy seat), and he promises to have complete independence from Big Huggies within five years, barring any unforeseen circumstances. Critics might also have a problem with his leadership experience. However, that really shouldn't matter, since both Democrats and Republicans no longer seem to be requiring experience for their presidential/vice presidential tickets.

Kyle is excited about all that he can do for America. I fully expect him to form an "exploratory committee" once he starts crawling. But why wait 'til he can vote, or even run for president? Write in Kyle for President (Jennifer for VP) this November! ... unless, of course, you live in Florida, Ohio, or any other state where your vote actually counts.

Silent night

It has taken me a while to write this entry. I don't want to jinx anything, and I could be doing that tonight. But I guess it's time that the truth comes out: Kyle likes to sleep. At night. I know, I know. It's stunning. It's shocking. And, quite frankly, Jennifer and I are awfully lucky.

It wasn't always this way, of course. When we first brought the little guy home, he took the "city that never sleeps" thing to heart. Or rather, he took it to heart when it came to the evening. Kyle would be drowsy and sleepy all day, but as soon as his head hit his crib sheet, it was party time! And Mom & Dad had to take part, or else King Kyle would force us to. We'd try to rock him to sleep, we'd sing songs to him, or we'd read him Jennifer's law books, but nothing would work. He'd seem to go to sleep, only to wake up and go nuts as soon as we put him in the crib, as if we accidentally hit the "reset" button on a detonated nuclear bomb.


But now all that's changed, or so it seems. Kyle goes to bed around 9:30 PM, and he doesn't start wailing until around 6 AM. 6 AM - no earlier! The sun is rising, birds are chirping, clouds, trees and chipmunks are singing, and Jennifer and I are waking up after about 7 hours of straight sleep. It's all beautiful. Granted, this could all change, as we hear kids like to switch things up once you're on to their "game." But we've appreciated it so far. Having sleep has allowed me to speak in complete sentences while reducing my crankiness. I am also no longer walking into walls or forgetting things, like "always remember where you put your toothbrush" or "underwear first, THEN pants." Again, it's all beautiful.

I know we'll pay for this if we have a second child, so we're savoring it while we can. And if you have a child and this entry made you jealous, I do have a few diaper stories that might make you feel better. They're rather dreadful, and I hear they're somewhat unique to our child. So, give me a call... but not late at night. I'll be sleeping then.

The holy wail

I'm proud to say that the demons have been officially chased out of our son.

Kyle was baptised on Sunday in front of a couple dozen friends and family members. He's a good Christian now, which means all his cursing, swearing, and pushing old ladies will have to come to an end. The demons refused to go quietly, however. Kyle wailed and squirmed throughout the Christening. His cries were amplified by the church echos, and at times he made it difficult for us to hear the priest. Often we just nodded or said "yes" to the priest's questions. I think he asked us to help Kyle live virtuously, though with all the noise he could have asked us to buy a vacuum cleaner or a pound of turkey sausage and we still would have said "yes."

We were honored to have had so many friends and family members at the church for the baptism, and we know there were so many more who were there in spirit. My sister-in-law Lauren took some great pictures of the ceremony, and I figured you'd all like to see them:

Kyle's Christening

There was a big party at our place Sunday afternoon, so Kyle didn't get any quiet time until Monday, which just so happened to be Jennifer's birthday. Kyle seemed to know that, since he was all smiles that day, and we enjoyed a quiet dinner together as a family.

On Tuesday, though, the demons were back - errr, I guess I now mean "the angels." Angels screaming through Kyle. All day long. We truly are blessed.

New frontiers

First, I'd like to send my congratulations to our dear friends Matt & Amanda, seen here with Kyle:



Matt & Amanda were married in Atlanta this past weekend. They did that in hopes of one day becoming a babysitter for Kyle. They still have to meet several more qualifications, but right now I'd say their chances are looking pretty good. We had a great time at their wedding, and we wish them much happiness.

As Matt & Amanda entered into a new life together last week, Kyle entered his third month. He's getting bigger, and making a lot more baby noises (often at night, or right before he's supposed to go to sleep). You can take a look at how much he's grown in a new photo album:

Kyle's Second Month

Finally, in this post of "new frontiers," I am announcing the debut of my new blog, which I humbly named DaveWeekly.com. Don't worry - I'm not retiring the baby blog... yet. I will, though, update it less frequently in the coming months, as DaveWeekly will eventually become my main blog. So why not check it out now?:

I've appreciated all the love you've given the baby blog, and I hope you join me at my other site. Enjoy!

He's got a new attitude

Kyle turns two months old on Wednesday. A lot about him has changed since he came home from the hospital: he has put on quite a bit more weight, he now smiles often, and he's found new ways to dirty a diaper (and its vicinity). One of the most noticeable changes is in how he communicates. Kyle still rules the roost, but now he does it with a little more finesse.

That doesn't mean he has abandoned his Apocalypse NOW! cry. No, in fact, that one has become even more dramatic. As the decibels soar, Kyle twists his body and turns his shoulders so that his face is planted in his bed, as if he was shouting, "You better do as I say or I will EAT THIS MATTRESS!!!!" It's an empty threat, of course. First of all, Kyle couldn't possibly be hungry enough, since he likely ate just an hour earlier. Second, he has no teeth.

But Kyle is no longer a one-trick pony. These days, in addition to the Apocalypse NOW! cry, there's also the "Apocalypse Maybe," which often happens in the middle of the night. This is one or two major parent-waking wails, followed by a silence that could last an hour. Apparently Kyle woke in the middle of the night, thought he was drowning, screamed, realized he was only drooling, and then went back to sleep slightly embarrassed.

There's also the lesser "either the world is ending or I just want to suck on something" cry. Kyle performed this little act during his first trip to a restaurant last week, at a little dive bar known as the Park Slope Ale House. It's a lower-volume cry, and it often comes on slowly, gradually amplifying like a siren or a really annoying car alarm. It often can be stopped in time, if one is properly equipped. We were fortunate to have a pacifier with us that night, since Kyle thought my lager was too bitter.


(Above: Kyle & his dad at the Ale House)

Finally, there are those rare moments when Kyle doesn't cry at all. Sometimes he just kicks like crazy when he needs a diaper change. When he's hungry, he occasionally puts his hand to his mouth without making a sound, like he's doing in the picture I took below using a camera phone.



So, Kyle is getting better at communicating with us, which is a good thing. Hopefully he'll shed himself of the head-twisting Apocalypse NOW! scream before he gets too old. I don't think it would go over well on a date.

A Kyle grows in Brooklyn

Okay, time now for more cute pictures. Take a look at this one of Jennifer and Kyle, shot about a week and a half ago:



Now feast your eyes on this one, taken last Thursday during a trip to Brooklyn's Prospect Park:



Notice a difference? If you said that Kyle looks a bit larger, you're right. Last week, our little one went through what the experts call a "growth spurt." These things typically happen several times during the early weeks of life. Kyle packed on some extra baby fat in just a few days, and he's come dangerously close to growing out of a good number of his onesies. He soon may need to borrow my shorts.

All this growing has made Kyle HUNGRY. Last week, he would demand to be fed every hour, and each feeding would take about an hour and a half. One of Jennifer's friends, who gave birth a couple months before Kyle arrived, said a mother might as well keep her top off all day during these growth spurts. That way she'll be ready for the baby's constant cravings. While I frequently asked Jennifer to consider this sound advice, she chose not to take it, since being topless would make things a little awkward around here, especially when we have friends and relatives visiting. Instead, she had me use a bottle to help out a bit more with the feedings and prevent Kyle from devouring her. Fortunately for all of us, Kyle's growth spurt now appears to be over. His diapers no longer fit like they used to, and he seems to be able to kick farther, but we won't know just how much Kyle has grown until he goes to the pediatrician and makes another attempt at wetting the scale. We have a hunch he'll show some big gains.



The end of the growth spurt has given us more "happy Kyle" time, and less "psycho hungry angry Kyle" time. That's made us all feel better, and has allowed us to do things besides feeding him, such as showering and eating lunch ourselves. Who knows? If Kyle continues to be in such a good mood, we might go out to eat as a family. I'd certainly welcome that, because I think I might be going through a growth spurt myself. I could really go for a burger right now... or maybe two.

Rising above the Bar

It's been a bit tense in the Beaudry household these days. In case you haven't heard, Jennifer will be taking the New York State Bar Exam this week. She has spent the past three years preparing for this moment, and during the past two months, she has done nothing but eat, drink, and breathe in her legal studies. That is, nothing except give birth... but that was just a week off, and even then she considered bringing some review books to the hospital.

Jennifer set three goals for herself this year, which I earlier referred to as the "trifecta of insanity": graduate from law school, give birth to a beautiful but very heavy baby boy, and pass the bar. Two of those things are now complete. By Wednesday evening, it will all be over. On Thursday, we will wake up confused and unsure of what to do with ourselves. We might forget to wear underwear or socks. We might eat with our hands and talk in grunts. We might even watch "Wheel of Fortune." I just hope we don't accidentally try to put adult clothes on Kyle. My shirts are just not his style.

Until then, we're just doing all we can to help Jennifer study. My mom was here for two weeks to assist with Kyle duties so that Jennifer can review her notes for several hours straight each day. Meanwhile, I've been trying to support my studious wife. I even attempt to understand what she says from time to time, although, sadly, these days she hardly speaks anything but legal babble. Kyle is also pitching in by letting Jennifer sleep later into the night, and by helping her with some of the essay writing.


(Above: Kyle crashes after a full day of helping his mom study)

Once Jennifer is done with the Bar, she says she won't want to talk about it. That can be tricky, since there are plenty of things out there to remind her of the agony, but we'll do our best to avoid them. Starting Thursday, we're going to have to wash up with blocks of soap. If our sweet tooth is aching, we will have to buy a chocolate rectangle. And when Jennifer is finally done with that horrid exam, she will join some of her friends at an establishment that serves drinks on a long, wooden board. She deserves a good time.

So, keep Jennifer in mind on Tuesday and Wednesday. She has done all she can to prepare for this exam, but the extra support and prayers won't hurt. Also pray for Kyle. He'll have just his dad to take care of him during those two days, and who knows what will happen then.

Picture pages

Kyle has fantastic hearing. From a mile away, he can pick up the sound of his mom or dad taking the first bite into a sandwich, which then triggers the part of his brain in charge of crying. I'm not at all concerned about Kyle's hearing abilities. I am a little concerned about his sight, though. It must be difficult for him to focus on anything when every move he makes is accompanied by a camera flash.

I must admit I am partly to blame for that. Kyle's mother and I do take a lot of pictures of him. So do his grandparents. And our friends. And our neighbors. And our landlord. And the mailman. And the milkman. And the taxman. And the garbage men. And the grocery store clerks. And the bus drivers. And the taxi drivers. And the newspaper reporters. And the bank tellers. And the nuns. And the professional cheerleaders. And the bartenders. And the muggers. And the mayor. Now come to think of it, a lot of people have been taking pictures of Kyle. Yet I would still say Jennifer and I probably take the most.

It's hard to not take so many pictures of our little one, especially when we want to capture every special moment: Kyle takes a nap; Kyle naps some more; Kyle goes surfing. However, there was that one point when I took a picture of Kyle's first piece of mail when I thought to myself, "Are we going a little too far?" The answer, of course, is subjective - those who don't currently have babies would probably say "yes," while those who do would say "can I answer you later? My kid's hungry and crying and - oh, no, that's the fifteenth onesie I've had to change this morning!"

Fortunately for everyone (but mostly for the grandparents), I have put together a collection of photos from Kyle's first month. Some were taken by us, and some were taken by our family and friends. You can see them by clicking the picture below:

Kyle's First Month

However, because this album is of Kyle's first month, it doesn't contain any photos from the past week, including cute ones like this one...



... and this one...



... and this one...



and even this one...



You will have to wait 'til the next album for those.

But wait, there's more! You can now click on the picture at the bottom of each of my blog postings to see a whole album of Kyle resting comfortably in a chair next to his bear buddy. I will update that album every week.

Okay - I have to go now. Kyle's moving his left foot right now and I need to grab the camera to capture it.

Milk duds

As Jennifer and I plunged into parenthood, our generous friends and family inundated us with a flood of gifts, including a fine piece of literature called Safe Baby Handling Tips. Many of you probably have seen some of the tips included in this book, as they have been spread throughout the internet. Our friends Jon and Dara, who are due in December, even posted some of these tips on their blog. Sociologists and pediatricians agree that if every parent followed the advice offered in Safe Baby Handling Tips, we probably wouldn't have all the problems we have in the world today. Thanks to this book, I know now that I shouldn't keep Kyle in a cage, wash him with a garden hose, or calm him down with booze (at least not until a few years from now). There's one particular tip, though, that I felt you should see:

Our little Kyle hasn't quite mastered this concept. Let's just say, as of now, Kyle is not picky about where his nutrition comes from... and for some reason, he seems to think that nutrition can come from me.

This does put a slight damper on our cuddle time. Just when I think Kyle's resting comfortably, he gets that wild look in his eyes, and then starts scaling Mount Dave, wiggling his body, kicking his legs, and bobbing his head up and down with his mouth wide open. There's no stopping him as he squirms left and right, in pursuit of that elusive fountain of milk. I try to reason with him, but he becomes more persistent than ever, letting out wails as he unsuccessfully tries my arm, my armpit, the left side of my chest, the right side of my chest, the middle of my chest, and, if I let him, my nose. I tell him that I can't help him, but the screams get only louder. Sometimes I manage to calm him down by giving him a finger, a bottle, or a steak, but that goes only so far. Eventually Jennifer comes to the rescue and provides Kyle with a proper feeding.

Of course, there is an upside to Kyle's confusion. We now know that Kyle is hungry whenever he starts sucking on my shirt, and the bobbing of his head is certainly helping with developing his neck muscles. However, I am a little leery of doing the "skin to skin" bonding, as recommended by some baby books. I would have to place him on my bare chest... and, well, I'm a bit concerned that he might try some serious milking and put me in a lot of pain.

I'm guessing Kyle will eventually grow out of this phase, perhaps before puberty. We'll probably wait, though, until long after grade school to show him the video we took of one of his unsuccessful hunts for milk. Maybe we'll just hold onto that until he gets a serious girlfriend.

Tater tot

Kyle is no longer a just a homebody. These days, he regularly goes out on neighborhood strolls, and this past weekend he went to church for the first time. These ventures do come with certain risks, though. We are extremely cautious with each encounter we make with another person, and Jennifer has come awfully close to tackling those who attempt to touch our little one. We don't want Kyle to catch any diseases, such as a cold, the flu, or disco fever. But most of all, we're concerned that these other people might try to eat him.

I never thought much about the threat of cannibalism before Kyle was born. It wasn't something covered in our birthing class, and when he was born, nobody asked if we wanted fries with him. But now we're wondering whether our friends and family are smacking their lips thinking of our little one.

Just a few days ago, one of our friends wouldn't stop talking about how Kyle has great "frog legs." Shortly afterwards, her fiance said his little toes looked like kernels of corn. At that point, we had to kick them out of our apartment and ban them forever. Granted, we wouldn't have been as upset if these were simply acquaintances or gourmet chefs... but these friends are on the short list of possible BABYSITTERS for Kyle. How can we be sure now that they won't sprinkle some seasoning on him the moment Jennifer and I head out the door?

We can always pray that Kyle won't ever be used as a main course, but that's also tricky to do, especially when our church's congregation has hungry eyes for our munchkin. When one member met Kyle this past weekend, she called him a "little pork chop." Others just drooled when they saw him, many asking how much he weighed, as if he was a slab of beef for grilling. In the meantime, we set the baptism for next month - I just hope they don't Christen him with barbecue sauce.

(Above: Kyle thinks he's tasty)

With all these stomachs growling for Kyle, you might think that the only safe place for him would be at home. Yet he's not even safe here. My parents were here last weekend, and my mother - yes, my own mother - said Kyle was born with "chicken legs." She is now impressed with how "plump" he has become. What's that supposed to mean?!? And next week my mom will return to New York to help us out with - of all things - the cooking! You can be sure I will be keeping a close eye on her.

In the line of fire

Having a baby boy is a risky business, as some of you may know. Every day is wrought with peril, as we parents brave the "underworld" known as the diaper change. A baby boy is a locked and loaded weapon, ready to fire... and fire he will... when his target is in range, armed with nothing more than an unscented wipe.

We were warned, of course - in fact, the image on the left is from a card sent to us before Kyle was born. Friends, family members, doctors, parents, food delivery guys - practically everyone told us to take caution when changing a diaper to avoid being squirted. Our friends Sarah and Alex, proud parents of a young boy, recommended that we use a cloth as a shield whenever we change a diaper, while my cousins Kris and Craig, proud parents of TWIN boys (God bless them), urged us to go to Target and buy lots and lots of washcloths. We took all this advice, cleared out Target's linen department, and armed ourselves for battle.

For us, changing a diaper is a lot like that opening scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark. One of us holds the washcloth with one hand while using the other hand to undo the diaper, carefully unsticking the tabs as to not trigger any booby-traps. Then, almost instantaneously, the diaper is pulled off and -WHAM!- the cloth is thrown down. After cleanup, we make another attempt at the same tricky operation, this time to remove the cloth and slap on a new diaper. If all goes according to plan, everything stays calm, we are not bombarded with projectiles or boulders, and Kyle's sinister plans have to wait until next time.

(Above: Kyle plotting to strike)

The washcloth shield has been a savior. Many times Jennifer and I would change Kyle and then realize that the towel was soaked. Beads of sweat would roll down our brow as we look at each other, knowing full well that we were the intended target. Those times we consider ourselves lucky, since the washcloth cannot protect all of the time. Kyle's grandmother was an unfortunate victim when she simply checked to see if a diaper needed changing. Many onesies also have been sacrificed.

(Above: Mortally-wounded onesies)

If you look at the odds, it's amazing that we're not hit more often. The inexperienced may believe that a diaper needs to be changed once or twice a day. Not so. Kyle's bowels are timed to our thoughts and actions, so whenever we plan to eat, take a nap, sit down or breathe, they spring into action. We change diapers 15 to 20 thousand times a day. Sometimes twice or three times in once session.

And then there are the surprises, and I leave you with the worst one of all. It happened Saturday morning, and NOBODY prepared us for it. I will spare the details for those of you who like to eat while reading my blog. Let's just say that on Saturday we learned that everything - EVERYTHING - is projectile... and that a dirty diaper doesn't necessarily mean the eruption is over. Most importantly, we also learned that your bed can never be far enough away from the changing table.

Dry cleaning is going to make us broke.