The Tale of Gears.

Posted by Kevin.....

Nonplussed does not begin to describe my befuddlement Sunday morning.

However, I will use nonplussed, as well a befuddlement, because it's so rare I have the opportunity to do so.

Not one to waste an opportunity (please see first sentence), I decided that while Stace and Henry were at church, I would sneak out for a quick mountain bike ride.

STOP! I know what you are going to say.

"Why aren't you at church with your family?"

Okay, actually I was pretty sure you were gonna ask me why I was riding when it is 8 degrees outside. Both valid points.

First, my relationship with the Methodist church is "I really, really like you. Can we just be friends?"

(Where as my relationship with the Catholic church is "Wow, I haven't seen you since my cousin's wedding. How are you? We should get together, over Easter perhaps......")

So it's no surprise that 24 seconds into my bike ride my rear wheel broke.Clearly I have offended the Lord. *

(*the vindictiveness of your God my vary.)

The chain turned the rear gears, but the gears spun freely on the wheel. Not only have I never seen such a catastrophic drive-train failure, but I was at a complete loss as to HOW this can even occur given my vast mechanical knowledge of all things Shimano.

"What matter of crapplication is this?" I said. Actually, I might be paraphrasing. But was this Karma* for not attending church with my family *(....if I were a Buddhist)

Or perhaps divine intervention to stop me from losing my fingers and toes.

Either way, it was definitely an opportunity. I was given a second chance to reexamine my priorities on that cold, lonely, dirt road Sunday morning.

And a very rare chance to use the word nonplussed (which I think we all agree is the penultimate misused word in English.)

Henry's birthday evening

We celebrated Henry's 2nd birthday a day early due to work schedules, and I returned home to find the house decked in streamers and photos, along with a lovely balloon bouquet delivered to the house. Kev was fastidiously decorating a cake he had made and laying out party hats and blow horns as kids' music blared in the background. Henry was in all his glory, blew out candles as if he had done it before, opened gifts of books and an accordian - we hung a gorgeous birthday banner made by good friends - it was a huge success.

My son is smarter than your son.

Posted by Kevin.....

All parents think their children are above average intelligence. And of course most parents are wrong.

However, I can say unequivocally that our son, who turns 2 on Friday, has already surpassed the rigorous and highly scientific developmental profiles as set forth by the world renowned child behavioral specialists of Rice County, MN.

Last week, we received a routine questionnaire from the Rice County Dept. of General Nosiness. As part of an on going, seemingly never ending program, the county sends all parents of young children these questionnaires to gauge the developmental progress of it's future property tax payers.

As Stace was filling out the form at the kitchen table, Henry was playing by himself in the living room, quickly sorting and re-sorting all of his toy cars and trucks first by size, than color, make, model, and engine size.

I don't know why I'm doing this, Stace says. Henry is scoring high on all of...... Then Stace came to this question: "Does your child place a shoelace through the eyelets on his/her shoe?" Hmmm. I don't know. We never tried that.

I brought a pair of shoes to Henry and sat next to him. He had just finished lining up all of his toy cars in order of their presumed crash test survivability ratings. I asked him if he could put the shoe lace into the eyelet. He took a moment and studied the task presented him. He gently held the tip of the shoelace and laced it into the eyelet, pulling it through. He then looked at me as if to say "Will there be anything else?" And I was dispatched to locate and return with a cookie.

Another question inquired if our son combines words to make phrases, and if so what are the phrases. Stace wrote down: "Apple juice", "More cookie please", "No thank you", "Bye-bye Daddy", and "When will America wake up and realize we need to come together and fix our health care system in a way that will provide services and dignity to those who can't afford insurance while maintaining a quality of care that is the envy of the world."

Next was a question about how your child plays with his/her toys. When Henry turned 1, a friend of ours gave him an electronic keyboard. It said "3 and up" but we figured he could bang on it and get some enjoyment out of it. However, he not only plays it, I have caught him disassembling it. I now get nervous when I see him walking though the kitchen toward the garage with a cordless drill and a circuit tester. I later discovered that when I pick up his keyboard and play Ode To Joy, the garage door opens.

So I hope Rice County is satisfied that Henry is a happy and healthy little boy, and his Momma and Daddy love him very much, and we engage and challenge each other in a positive way.

Now if you will excuse me, Henry is trying to figure out how to stream YouTube through our TV.

Henry's 1st haircut!

Henry's Pictures

Henry's Short Stories

Hanging Out
As Henry and I get ready to go downstairs to play/watch videos, he has to gather all of his preferred toys of the day (usually all of the trucks and tractors) - and because Mama complains that it is too much to carry and still have a hand free to hold onto "Baby Henry", he has decided that he needs a bag. He is very smart. So, we fill up the bag - a bag that doesn't always get emptied, but by God we have the trucks and tractors downstairs - and drag it downstairs.

"Balooms"
Henry was given some balloons by our neighbors and as the days went by he had fun playing with them, but was also quite interested in the fact that they deflate. He kept shrugging his shoulders and lifting up his open hands and say, "baloom, baloom", as if he had no idea where it was going. We both were startled one evening when a kitty popped a "baloom", and the next day Henry walked around the house saying, "Baloom, pop, BOOM".

Obsession
It is rather likely that my son is somewhat obsessive compulsive about dirt like his Mama. He tends to be a cleaner, a picker upper, and likes the "vroom vroom" which doubles for a car, but also the dustbuster. So, I was getting him ready to go out and I laid down his snowsuit and encouraged him to lie down upon it. Standing upon it, he pointed at the dust/dirt that he likely deposited there himself by stepping into it, and repeated, "dirt. dirt. dirt."
"I know, but it's not bad," I suggested wiping the inside of his suit clean. I encouraged him again to lay down. He then noticed a speck of wetness on the inner lining, and pointed at it, repeating, "wet. wet. wet."
Oh for God's sake.

Sub-Zero Degree Weather
It was monstrously cold for a little while, but it didn't keep us from going out. After a trip to a mall, I was getting Henry ready for bed when Kev entered his room with a bag of wipes that he got from the car. "It's a good thing we didn't have a poopy diaper while we were out," he stated.
"Why?" I asked.
He then tapped the wipes on the dresser and made a hard, clunking noise, and handed me a frozen solid bag of wipes.

Helping
Henry is a big helper. One morning I asked him to get me some socks from "my room" (translation: guest room. Interestingly enough, it is my favorite room in the house, and he thinks it's mine), so he said, "ah huh", and trundled off. Usually he returns with 2 matching socks that he pulls out of the dirty clothes, but this particular morning he was gone a bit longer and returned with, oh, about 9 socks in his arms, which he pulled out of a clean clothes basket. I thanked him, picked out 2 socks, and told him to return the others, which he did promptly. Then, he proceeded to go back and forth between me and the dirty clothes basket as he brought me various pieces of clothing announcing who they belong to.

Manners
Henry occasionally says, "thank you" and "please". Today when I suggested that I change his diaper, which isn't something he often loves as it takes him away from whatever is holding his attention at that current moment, and he replied with, "No, thank you".

Henry and I returned home from the store today and he upon walking into the house he went over to the boot mat and looked down at his feet.

I asked, "Are you going to take your boots off?"
"Uh huh," he replied.

This is great! I thought, because he is doing so much on his own now - and will help out by doing things he is asked. So I began putting things away, then noticing little movement over there, I glanced over at him and he was just standing on the boot mat looking over his shoulder at me, patiently waiting. Oh.

"Would you like some assistance?" I asked.
"Ah ha." he replied.