infrequent and predictable

are the posts that occasion this blog, it seems.

i had a moment at the computer, so i thought i'd document today's vomiting in pooklet town. we had a babysitter fret when he vomited twice, from oatmeal and bananas. i dunno. sounds like a good meal to me.

this baby's cuteness stock just keeps rising, though. i'm completely enamored with him, whether he's sitting in the tub with mommy, his hair all slicked, and in all his fatness, or whether i'm gazing at the rotating desktop photos of him. or even when he cries. just tonight, he was making a "mmmmmemm - mem - mem - mem" sound. adorable. all of it.

i'm looking forward to baby number 2!

he's got a toof!

i think it was last weekend that we first noticed his first tooth, but a day or two ago, we saw number two coming alongside the first. they're bustin' out!

Crest Gel!
Crest Gel!

well, at least he knows how to roll

I took my eyes off the prize, and let the pooklet roll off the bed this weekend. He hit his head on the nightstand. I felt bad, but he only cried for a minute. And then, all was forgiven and he was laughing again. What a trooper.

Happy Birthday, Dad

My dad turned 70 yesterday. The following I wrote in his card. I'm sharing it cuz I'm proud of him.

Dad,

I’m so grateful that I have a dad I love to celebrate on his birthday.

I regularly hear about deadbeat and dubious dads. Your steadfastness over the decades as a husband and a father has made you a unique thing in this day and age. I admire you tremendously. You’re wonderful with people and I love reflecting on your kindness, grace, meekness, and wisdom.

You know what a really great day for me would be? Playing golf with you at Benona, and then teleporting to your house to join (or even just observe) your men’s group. There, I’m convinced, is God’s intent for our pleasure – the culmination of humility before God, joy in fellowship, and a grown-up son still enjoying his dad’s example, knowing he’s loved by the one he admires. Thanks, Dad. I love you.

Happy birthday.

i'm NOT a hamburglar!

The Pukelet

it is with much sheep that i write about the sweet potatoes we again gave the pooklet, and the vomit those sweet potatoes again became. We found him, after only a couple cries (brave, brave, little pooklet), looking pathetic in a mess of potato.

pookie yesterday relayed to me the "load" theory of allergens which might explain this. if your pooklet has an allergy to cats, for example, and he has a reaction to rice cereal for whatever reason, these two build up a load of irritants that may only then require a minor reaction to, say, sweet potatoes, to "overflow" into symptoms like vomiting. anybody buying this? sounds pretty compelling at this point, but then we don't get much in the way of certainty from medical opinion at this stage of pooklet's life.

you can't keep a good meal down

pooklet really took to sweet potatoes yesterday. it was his second time and the way the wifey described his reaction to them, you'd think it was his second favorite food.

unfortunately, his stomach revolted that night, and it all came up. again.

we're discouraged. seems everything causes a rash or vomiting.

still, it further proved pooklet's steadfast adorability. he's so cute, braving the nausea that must've accompanied his wretching, having not yet learned the ploy of crying to get more sympathy. no, when he cries, you know something's wrong.

the pooklet. the pooklet. oh, we love the pooklet.