Friday, March 28, 2008
"Onesie onesie then you get a twosie.
Twosie twosie then you get a three.
Threesie threesie then you get a foursie.
Foursie foursie then you get a five..."
So on and so forth ad infinitum...Elise told me last night she got up to a thirty-fivesie! That's a lot of articles of clothing for such a small little boy. (Actually not as small as one might think...somehow between myself at 5'8" and Elise at 5'4", we have spawned a 2'+ tall 3 month old. His new nickname is Manute Sam!
Thursday, March 27, 2008
It is good to be home but, I always wish home wasn't so far from home.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
For instance, when Elise and I took our seats on the connecting flight from Phoenix (where the local temperature is 75) to Spokane (where the local temperature is 29...brrrr!!), the stewardess moved us from the right side of the plane to the left side of the plane because "of the baby and that's where the air masks were". Huh?! What about the people on the right side of the plane? They don't get air masks? And in the pre-flight safety video only one mask dangles down per seat. So, God forbid, if this compartment pops open and I have to put a yellow plastic cone over my nose, will there be enough? Now in my head, I'm envisioning--after having secured the yellow plastic cone over Sam's nose...actually, it would probably cover his whole face--I'm going to have to rush through the plane to find an unused air mask before asphyxiating or being sucked into the ether in the ensuing sudden loss of cabin pressure.
On Elise and I's first trip to Seattle, we took a ferry ride from Seattle, across Puget Sound, to Bainbridge Island. We became suspicious when Coast Guard in Zodiacs appeared off our port bow, splashing in and out of the ferry's wake as it escorted us across the sound. Our fears were later corroborated when the local news reported recent terrorist threats against the maritime highway. I knew that if anything happened to the ferry, I could get Elise and I to shore (I was a lifeguard once. It wouldn't be pretty, but even in 50 degree water, I was confident--Not to say that Elise couldn't take care of herself--I could keep the two of us afloat for several miles or hours...whichever came first). Now, if our plane came down over the water, we were going to skid down inflatible slides into the Gulf of Mexico (assuming we could stumble over the bony knees of the German in the emergency row), and I would have to keep 3 people afloat and safe. These are the kinds of things I think about now on a plane.
Then there was the guy sitting next to us on our last leg home, a charred Boca-ite with yellow hair and a watch on each wrist who smelled like a Double Whopper with extra onions and extra special sauce who I feared, after his third Sutter Homes red in the screw-cap mini bottle, was going to spill either wine, Russian dressing from his $7 pastrami on marbled-rye or hair grease on my son. Thankfully, Sam slept through most of the flight while Elise and I lip-read the in-flight movie, "August Rush", and eavesdropped as the aforementioned seat neighbor tried to pick up the married woman in 14C and wondered aloud "what time dinner service was" as though he were on a cruise ship or at a Club Med.
Travel, though, is necessary. Not going to see the grandparents or the great-grandparents or not going to see something as simple as the subtle differences between the inside of a Starbucks in Cheney as opposed to the inside of a Starbucks in Jupiter is not an option. And one could not ask for a more tolerant and forgiving travel companion to join Elise and I on our meanderings as Sam.
Some of the firsts Sam experienced on his trip: first plane ride, first limo ride, first snow, first cross-country journey, first dinner at Wolf Lodge, first time seeing his cousin, Little E, and first time to Zips! Pictures at 11.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
We took Sam to the pool yesterday for the first time. He was a natural, undoubtedly because of his father's swimming talent. (The Turbeville family never did a ton of swimming in the frigid waters of the Pacific Northwest!) You will notice that I kept this fat, white body fully clothed on the sidelines. You're welcome.
We had a wonderful fun-filled family weekend as usual. It is always hard when Monday rolls around to have to see off our buddy Dad. We have already started our list of things to look forward to for next weekend.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Thursday, March 13, 2008
The parenting gurus who recommend fathers sing to their children have never heard me attempt to carry a tune, else they would swear me off the practice for good for fear I'd permanently scar my son. But he didn't seem to mind as I crooned Do-Re-Mi from 'Sound of Music' about Somerset.
I was okay all the way up until, "Far...a long long way to run..." when I drew a blank. What comes after 'Far'? 'So'? A female pig? (Or is that sow?) I've been encountering this problem quite frequently. I don't know any children's songs. I don't want to speak for my wife, but I don't think Elise does either. I can start a lot of them, but, invariably, they disintegrate into a hackneyed, severly butchered version of the original. Most of the time--Elise is much better at this than I--we end up making up or own.
Like the song that followed Do-Re-Mi...to the tune of Shaggy's 'It Wasn't Me': "Sam made tooties in the bathtub...It wasn't me! Same made tooties in the bedroom...It wasn't me! Sam made tooties in the kitchen...It wasn't me! He made tooties all around me...It wasn't me!"
Finally, I reverted to the only music I do know all the lyrics to...The Dave Matthews Band. First 'Satellite' and then 'The Best of What's Around':
"Hey my friend It seems your eyes are troubled (though Sam's eyes are rarely, if ever, truly troubled)
Care to share your time with me (Dad :)
Would you say you're feeling low, if so, a good idea would be to get it off your mind
See you and me have a better time than most can dream of
We have it better than the best
Whatever tears at us
Whatever holds us down
And if nothing can be done we'll make the best of what's around"
(Then my favorite part of, perhaps, my favorite song)
"Turns out, not where, but who're you with is what really matters, yeah
And hurts not much when you (Elise and Sam) are around"
Ah, truer words were never warbled...Now, if I can just remember this when it's 90 degrees out and my Pegasi feel like the giant sponges they wash SUVs with....or when some golf pro with his polo buttoned up over his adam's apple lets his girlfriend's lhasa apso relieve itself on front 'yard'....
Monday, March 10, 2008
I mean after all fries with no trans fats are practically broccoli.