Hook, Swipe and Stab

I pick my spots when it comes to aggression. I've found little use for the emotion, relying instead on patience and terrible wit. Every now and again a situation presents itself when your patience fails you and a man is overcome with a testosterone fueled moment of aggression.

It happened this past Valentine's Day. I happened to be out to lunch with my beautiful wife. Is it a coincidence that something like this would happen on our 13th Valentine's Day?

There we were at a lovely Italian Restaurant conversing over one subject (Pierce) but a myriad of topics. They were normal conversations that parents of a 16 month old have: upcoming pre-pre-schools, potty training, his latest abilities and possible vacation plans.

It was clear to us that the guy next to us was clearly frustrated, over what, we weren't sure but it was coming to a point where I was going to have to make my displeasure known because it was starting to interrupt our lunch. It seemed like he was struggling using his fork. I was just trying to be nice when I handed him my unused fork, he placed it in his right hand and he immediately made and aggressive hook/swiping motion into a plate of pasta and stabbed a penne. He shoveled it into his mouth and smiled a smile that would let anyone know he was pleased with himself.

His Mama and I clapped and cheered as only two loving parents can. The penne made a perfect prey because he could stab it and cram it into his mouth without it falling off. He's made more progress since that day. We had mashed potatoes last night and he quickly learned that all he had to do was jam his spoon into a pile and they would stick. That strategy did little for him tonight when Dada made brown rice.

Just Write

I am not going to be wordy with this first of what I hope is a few posts. There have been three or four fun topics that I've wanted to write about but to put it simply, I've been apathetic. Seems like I go into hibernation when the days get shorter and the nights colder. For now, the wine glass is full and I'm ready to get started.

I just put Pierce down for bed. A full day it was and we both had a GRAND time. After walking down to the basement, I flipped on the tele and while I opened my bottle of Chateau Saint Jean I got to hear about the latest happenings in Syria.

Amateur video of a makeshift clinic was dancing across the screen and the obnoxious self serving anchor asked the field reporter to describe the scene. One of the victims, a six year old boy.

I looked down at my baby monitor to see my baby boy sleeping soundly in his warm room and cozy crib.

Lord, Thank You for my many blessings, please comfort the parents of that little boy.

Inaugural Christmas

While I had a good idea of how this day was going to go, I didn't have a good grasp on how it was going to feel. This marked the first Christmas that Ashleigh and I did not wake up in Ashland on Christmas morning.

Not waking up under the roofs of either of our parents homes, was foreign to us. Who would have thought, waking up in your own home would be unfamiliar, it was. Not walking down my parent's hallway, or Ash's parent's hallway, not seeing my Mama's Christmas tree or my other Mama preparing some kind of Christmas morning treat was unusual. It was definitely one of those mile markers, that I have referenced before.

As we turn the page, we appreciate those times in our lives, and look forward to the unwritten chapters ahead.



Hearing Pierce's morning babble through the monitor is one of my favorite parts of the day. He carries on for 15 or so minutes, talking to himself, hugging and squeezing his Rudolph or rambling a series of dadas or mamas. Today, he woke up with the same excitement that he wakes up with everyday, Christmas or not. However, I woke up with an exhilaration in my heart that is attributed to it being my son's second Christmas.

Mama grabbed the camera while I greeted my little "Christmas, Christmas, Christmas-head". He couldn't grin wider or be more content when I open the door and chant our chant. The chant isn't very creative. Whatever seems to be the object of the week is used as a prefix to "head". Pierce has been a: blueberry-head, kiwi-head, Pumpkin-head, pretty much any fruit or root vegetable. You think he'll find it entertaining when he's 15?

Our normal routine involves a snack trap of Cheerios and a sippy cup full of whole milk. Pierce is partial to his morning snack or any snack for that matter. Six days out of the week, Daddy and Pierce snuggle (under his Aunt Patti's homemade quilt), and have his treat. As Headline news plays, in the glow of the television, and under the influence of three or four sips of French Roast coffee, I watch contently as he shovels his well proportioned hand into his snack trap and pull out a fistful of Cheerios and not a half second later, they're inefficiently crammed in to his mouth.

This day was different. Mama recorded us coming down the stairs and as we rounded the landing on our way to the kitchen, Pierce sensed a different arrangement of furniture in the living room. He chirped and saw his grand prize. He flung his upper torso parallel to the floor (common, anytime he wants down), and as a I obliged, he hustled over to his new Doug and Melissa's Corner Kitchen.

The three hours that followed were the three most pleasurable hours of my life. Watching my son play with his Mama and his new prizes while being artificially amped up on his first taste of authentic Danish Kringle made my insides warm. I know this invokes many of your gag reflexes but I can't help it. I'm writing what I feel and it felt amazing.

After Pierce crashed on his newly opened Moose body pillow, Ash and I watched the 20 plus minutes that I recorded. The above video is one of the shortest and captures how jubilant he was. A visit with family later in the evening involved the traditional appearance from Santa. I know Pierce's amazement with that aspect will grow exponentially over the next few years.

I am going to refer to this December 25th, 2011 as the "Inaugural". This year, we started laying the foundation for new Qualnandez Family traditions. I want to thank everyone involved for their love and kindness.

My experiences are new to me, the lessons learned are probably not new to you. Most of the time, I'm just working out in my head, what the Silver and Black Lining is.

Reach

Tippy toes.
Creased Red Robeez.
PZH standing as tall as his frame will allow.
One fourteen month old nose barely clearing the bathroom vanity.
PZH reaching as far up and across as his arm will extend.
All in an effort to grab the book looking object playing the Christmas music.

It's Sunday morning and I have a mug of coffee in my hand, typically when I get like this it's dark out and I have a a glass of wine in my hand while sitting in a swivel chair with a robe on smoking a cigar and listening to Adele.

I can't tell you when the last time I physically stretched out as far as I could to attain something much less what it was. How about metaphorically? What was my motivation for focusing all of my potential energy to accomplish something. It doesn't matter what it was, it only matters that I shouldn't have had to think as long as I did to remember what it was.

Kids can teach you a lot if you let them. They force you to relearn some important lessons too. All you have to do is pay close attention cause they can be right in front of you.

The lesson that Pierce helped me create today was that while I have goals for us as a family, I should always be able to answer the question "What are your personal short/long term goals?" without hesitation. What are you doing to get better everyday?

It won't be long before Pierce is helping the grandmas grab the baking sheets from the top cabinet. He probably won't be wearing red Robeez but the first time I see him do it, I hope I remember the morning when his nostrils were at their apex, just barely visible over the counter.

Post Script
I was joking about the robe and Adele scenario.

Sunday Morning Wrestling

No need to get wordy. Jumping on the bed set up an exciting day for Pierce and Dad.

Happy Halloween!

One of our several excursions to Babies "R" Us resulted in what I like to call "The Decision". I got in to the habit of strolling down the toy aisle before picking up the neccessary items on the shopping list. I enjoy buying a toy for my son, letting him play with it while we loaded the cart with diapers or fiddlesticks made us both content. He was happy that he had something to play with and I was on the natural high that goes with being a Daddy and buying your son a toy.

I held up two stuffed dolls for him to play with and ultimately decide on which one was going home with us. I quickly thought of Toy Story and all of Woody's supporting cast. I thought that for a little while at least, which ever toy Pierce chose would serve as his favorite.



Big Bird vs. Cookie Monster

Pierce did not immediatley gravitate toward one. He test drove both for a few minutes. He would squeeze them, shake them and poke at them. He picked up one, laid it down and picked up the other and then repeated the process until finally he settled on ......Cookie Monster.

I told Ash that when Pierce grows in to the person that he is supposed to be, I know after witnessing this event that he will not take decisions lightly and that he will attempt to cautiously weigh all circumstances and possible variables before coming to his conclusion.



After making the rounds at our favorite neighbors we hunkered down on our porch, it was a typical fall night. Pierce played in the flower box and walked alongside the steps as we passed out candy. We all had fun!

Pierce probably had the most fun before bath time when Mama put his costume on her head and began talking like Cookie. Pierce chuckled and then Mama kissed Pierce's "cookie tummy" and he chuckled some more. He chuckled for ten or so minutes while we both took turns as Cookie Monster (mom got the bigger laughs cause shes is the bestest.)

We ended the evening the same way we did his first Halloween, by reading Scaredy Cat Splat!

Out of this Stratosphere

One of the advantages of PZH getting older is that he has more energy and is able to stay up longer than he did four months ago. Despite his best efforts though, he still has a "firm"night-night time frame. Those moments that adults get to themselves are fewer and further between. That is not to come across as a complaint, fact is there isn't anything else that I would rather do.

Pierce's fascination with most anything has sky rocketed in to a stratosphere that only children can enter and only parents of children have a chance of interpreting. Do you remember how interesting leaves are? Do you remember how fun mulch could be? Do you remember when playing in the dirt was the best and getting dirty was a necessary part of a fun day? Do you remember how fun pulling a door stop 90 degrees and letting go was? Hearing the door stop boing back and forth tickles the core of a child's' innocence.




What about, the geniusness of a tissue box? Did you know if you pull one tissue out, another identical tissue replaces it? TRY IT, Pierce would say. He has, to the tune of about 27 Kleenex boxes. He gets the biggest tickle out of pulling them out, one after the other until there are no more. When he discovers a new Kleenex box, his eyes sparkle and I can see him open the cockpit of his rocket ship before he blasts off into that stratosphere. He looks at it and thinks to himself, "dang it, who put all those tissues back in the box?" I think he feels like it's his responsibility, neigh, his mission to extract every last one, when he's done, he looks at us with an expression that suggests he's accomplished one of his chores, hopefully he's as dedicated to taking out the trash?




We love exploring wherever we're at but the front yard affords a convenient opportunity. We rip up big leaves like we rip up TP. We judiciously sift through the bark and to find and separate the best pieces. We especially like to twist and pull the pretty white perennials.

Re-experiencing life's inaugurals is an unanticipated residual blessing of parenthood. I would never have guessed how amusing it would be to watch my son: open and shut a door, close a drawer or deliberately move his Dada's socks from one drawer to another with specific intent.




My parents talk about the day I left for college being a tough day, it was for me too. I am not thinking about crossing that bridge yet but I do draw comparisons when I watch Pierce explore never before seen objects. Just like my parents watched the red tail lights of my 1998 Ford Taurus take me to an unfamiliar world, I watch Pierce's red low tops and his unique combination of crawling and walking help him venture out in to his own unknown. It'll be a while before I see his Camry's tail lights, I'm sure we'll need those 27 Kleenex boxes then but for now we'll enjoy these precious moments.

My experiences are new to me, the lessons learned are probably not new to you. Most of the time, I'm just working out in my head what the "Silver and Black Lining" is?