The Anderson Column

Man, I don’t know what to think about it, but I did it. I submitted my son’s pictures to a couple of agencies and we’re waiting for replies now.

We were approached in a mall about it, the first time and the little guy was apparently cute enough to warrant an audition, but I found out at a later stage that this agency covered their costs by demanding money for photo shoots before any progress could be made. In other words, I felt they were exploiting people ever so slightly, even if it’s just their business model.

But anyway, since everyone keeps telling us we should, I did. And if anything comes from it, good. I’d love to be able to put more aside for him so that he can have a relatively easy time later on instead of having to juggle with student loans and so forth. I don’t expect him to be the next face of the Disney channel, but a few shoots would be good even if it’s only a few thousand dollars.

In the end, I might just be biased because I think I have the most adorable kid in the world.

Work for my wife. Staying at home watching the little guy for me. So I guess it would be fair to give it a little evaluation, mmm.

It’s been pretty great all in all. We’ve managed to play together a lot and although he’s also been crying a lot it’s never really been push-the-panic-button bad. I’m pretty optimistic about the next weeks going forward especially since his verbal communication seems to develop at the speed of Usain Bolt right now. He’s spitting, he’s finding new sounds, he’s (still) screaming like a pterodactyl – at least the way I imagine they would scream if I ever met one and he’s starting to discover consonants. It’s not throwing a football around, but it’s a hell of a lot of fun anyway.

I think he’s doing OK and I think he’s generally pretty happy. We do a mix of play-time, story-time, August-in-his-jumperoo time (usually watching sprout tv or listening to daddy read aloud from random books) and nap time. It’s hard to gauge what the proper amount of stimulus is, to be honest, but I guess it’s good to just try and see whatever works. At least I can tell when he’s fed up with Mother Goose, cause he’ll start looking at something else, yawn, sulk and then usually fall asleep.

As for me, I’m not getting a damned thing done. I thought I was going to be able to be fairly productive since I read that babies sleep 14-16 hours per day, but this has not been the case. Granted, some of it has to do with my attention deficit disordered personality, but focus is hard to keep when there’s a diaper to be changed every half hour or thereabout. That, too, is just fine though – he’s an important piece of work and it’s not like I have any deadlines to meet on anything right now. All just ideas and concepts – all of which I’d like to work harder on, but nothing concrete anyway, so we’ll see how it goes.

Not working has turned out to be a great decision and a great experience. I wonder if other people have alternate views..

He's a pretty happy guy - And not just when Mommy comes home.

Not much to say really.. Just thought I’d share how happiness looks in 6megapixels.

Rattle, Dad's funny faces - My day is made!

My dog scared the living shit out of me the other night. Somehow he ended up hurting his neck (through hyperactive play with our other dog while on a leash) and had a rough few hours of shaking, whimpering and downright crying.

I consider myself a responsible parent, although I’m known for my slight streak of functional retardation. In this case, it’s me going to the wrong animal hospital at 3:30 in the morning. The one that’s closed. But before we make this story about my shortcomings, let me get back on track by saying that I managed to find the open emergency animal hospital and I that I took our Loke there.
I’m relieved after his initial diagnosis. The (really really nice!) vet on duty tells me that it’s most likely not a spinal injury, but instead a tear in his neck and/or back muscles. Still pretty bad but at least it’s not likely to be a permanent injury. So he gets a few injections, some anti-inflammatory medicine and a shot of muscle relaxer and we head home with a bag full of drugs.

On the way home, he is a lot happier. Really a lot happier. To be honest, I am, too. But once we actually get home, all he wants is to go out and run like a spastic. Now I’m one of those guys who will talk to his dog as if he’s able to understand me. I don’t blame you for thinking that makes me retarded at all, but anyway I try to tell the guy that he has to stay calm and not run around – Doctor’s orders, damnit. He doesn’t really listen to me, but we get inside without him going too nuts.

Six hours later, he’s back to crying and moping. I give him his painkillers and again he just completely ignores his pain and wants to go out running. I’m starting to think we might have a problem. Now I’ve never been on muscle relaxers. I’ve had to take Vicodin once when I had a tooth ache and to be honest, the Vicodin side effects were worse than the tooth ache, so I stayed in bed for a while. I wish my dog would do the same, because it sucks seeing him in pain and as happy as he is on drugs, I don’t think that’s a road we want to go down. Loke the prescription drug abusing retriever.

Let me finish this up by showing you a picture of the guy..

Loke - Happy, not just when drugged

I don’t have much experience as a parent, in fact not even three months worth of it. But one thing that I’ve learned (albeit through proxy) is that sometimes you have to get your hands dirty.

Last night our son pooped after two days of not doing so. We’d been told by our doctor that it’s not uncommon for babies to skip a beat or two, though, so there was really no panic about it. Still, you’re happy to see the grimaces that lets you know that “here we go”.
That led to the following very short conversation:

Me: “So was it a lot of poop?” (obviously curious since this was the first time he’d gone for two days without)
My wife: “Not really.” (at this stage she has just finished clearing up the mess and is almost ready to put a new diaper on)

At this point the boy decides that he’s not done pooping yet and so with a familiar “brrrrrrrrrrttttt” sound, here comes. The timing was both awkward and perfect. My wife was not pleased at all, though and so the mood around the house for a few minutes was equally awkward.

This did not exactly change when he decided to pee on her during his bath. But the lesson learned is to buy thicker wipes for his butt and maybe let him sit there for an extra 30 seconds before deciding to change him. (I should note at this point that no one is traumatized and everyone’s fully recovered from the incident)