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Saturday, November 3, 2007 Dear Koen, Hmm, where do I begin? Lets start with your new famed "Universal Greeting." Imagine sticking your tongue out as far as it will go; not erect, but trying to touch the tip to your chin, as if you were showing us that it is blue from eating a Berry flavored Otter Pop. Now take both hands and wipe your tongue frantically with your fingertips as if you had just eaten bad caviar and are trying to wipe the taste off. Yes little man, that was your "Universal Greeting" for the month of October. Saying goodbye on the other hand hasn't changed from my last letter. You still cry out with a high pitch whine that not only is rude, but certainly gets everyone's attention. But we still love you. Oh yeah, and you turned 21 months old today. We went to a wedding the weekend of the 6th at Pismo Beach. A five hour car trip there and a five hour trip back. Thanks to the portable DVD player and multiple Thomas the Train Engine movies your Grandpa bought for you, you were a well behaved little fixated zombie child. I think it's funny that once we arrived at our hotel room, your Mom and I instantly pulled out your train set and off to work you went, building your fantasy "Island of Sodor" where Thomas and all his friends converge on being "really useful engines." Ahh, the beauty of obsession at its finest.
The morning of the wedding we went to the beach which was my first time going with you since I missed the trip to Long Beach in August. Initially, you were afraid of getting your feet wet until I showed you it was alright. This was a surprise to me since you love taking a bath. But once you knew the ocean wouldn't swallow you and pull you down to Davey Jones' Locker, the splashing and running began. The kelp that was washed on shore was another issue. God forbid your feet actually touched this floating weed. But with a hop and a leap, you soon learned how to avoid the nasty nemesis.
That late afternoon, 4:15 PM to be exact, you were still taking a nap! Needless to say, the wedding was scheduled to start at 5 PM. Thanks to your Moms fore site and motherly instinct, she booked a room for us at the hotel where the wedding was being held. So, as soon as you woke up (4:30 PM) we got you dressed and made a mad dash to the hotel bluff. Once we arrived, we were greeted with, "we didn't know if you were going to make it," "what took you guys so long?," "what happened?" My inner demon wanted to take one of the lawn chairs and fight off the barrage of questions and statements, but my logical and mature side put a smile on my face and told everyone you just woke up from your nap; which was the truth. For the record, we were not late. We got there just in time. Aside from a little cardio to get to the ceremony "just in time," you were a big hit with all the guests. A gentlemen had commented that you were pushing a close second place for best dressed; just behind the Bride. Your Mom was very proud of the outfit she chose for you and the for the fine handmade craftsmanship of your bow tie. I was particularly proud of the "Spicoli" (Vans) I chose to finish your outfit.
October turned out to be a month of events. On the 13th we participated in the National Down Syndrome Society 2007 Buddy Walk at Hagan Park in Rancho Cordova. Yes, the same Hagan Park with the Sacramento Valley Live Steamers Railroad Museum. To help spark your interest in the Walk, your Mom told you about the trains you can ride once we finish. Before the walk however, we watched you pull a double whammy of bumps on your head. Basically, you pulled your hat over your eyes and ran right into a park bench hitting your forehead. Your forward momentum was so strong that once you made contact, your feet swept up from underneath you and you fell backward hitting the back of your head on the concrete slab. Ouch! It was as if the entire park got quiet waiting to see if you were going to cry. I picked you up and smiled, but your eyes were already welling with tears. Then Niagara Falls started to spew from your tear ducts and a howling burst of pain filled the air. You reached for your Mom and wanted reassurance that everything was going to be alright.
After Niagara Falls dried up and after we walked to support the cause, you were ready to venture on a couple of wonderful train rides. Let me repeat that, a "couple" of wonderful train rides. Not one, but two. After you finished the first ride with your Mom, you immediately cried out and signed for more. So off you and I went to venture together on this Steam Engine (Lawn Mower) Excursion. I have to admit that I really enjoyed myself. So much so that I went online and looked at their schedule for the month of December. I'm looking forward to taking you on another ride, but with Santa. We can put on our winter coats and act like Hobo's hitching a ride to an unknown destination.
This is the part of the letter where I talk about you getting sick. Not for a week but for almost the entire month of October. It started as a small common cold the weekend of the trip to Pismo Beach. I'd like to blame it on either your Gymnastics Class or from one of several Mothers Groups you and your Mom attend. However, since your cold started in Pismo Beach, we'll blame it on Daddy's College Friends. There's only one word to describe your behavior when you are sick; Godzilla. You heard me; Godzilla. I'm not talking about the wimpy 1998 remake. I'm talking about the Godzilla from the late 1960's and early 1970's. The same Godzilla that had a funny encounter with Bambi. You become aggressive and cooperation is unheard of when you get sick. If you could breathe fire I think you would really enjoy it. I'm sure anything would help, as long as it takes your mind off the fact that you are congested and your nose is either plugged or running like a water faucet. There were times when you seemed lethargic and posed as a zombie. And after a few hours of rest you were happy as can be acting out a scene from a Godzilla movie with your trains catching the brunt end of the deal. Then it happened; Saturday, October 27th. Mom had put you down for the night (in our bed) and an hour later we heard you from the living room repeating the word "mess." We rushed in to see what the fuss was about and found VOMIT everywhere. "Holly Slip and Slide Batman!" Mess was an understatement. Like a good little boy, you were trying to contain the mess by scooping it closer to you in a big puddle in the middle of our bed. As your Mom and I calmly assessed the situation you let us know that more was coming. At one point, all I could think about was that one nasty scene from the movie The Exorcist. The scene where the little girl vomited on the Priest. After the steams of vomit finally stopped, your Mom took you to the bathroom and cleaned you up while I handled Folsom Lake in the middle of our bed. Ahh, the joys of parenthood!
October wouldn't have been eventful without Halloween. On Halloween day, we went to Dave's Pumpkin Patch in West Sacramento. Though it wasn't your first trip this year, I'd like to think that you had more fun with me and your Mom. Come on, we looked for "the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown." You and your Mom shucked corn and Daddy also had a great idea for you to act out scenes from "Children of the Corn." That evening your friend Kira came over and the two of you went Trick or Treating for the very first time. This time last year you were recovering from your operation. I'm a bad Daddy. I forgot to mention in previous letters that you had a birth defect called Hypospadias. Though your condition wasn't as severe as some cases we've seen through our research, it was enough to have you put under with General Anesthesia; but I'll write about that in another letter. Back to Halloween...you and Kira started off the night as a shy little monkey and lion, barely saying the words "Trick or Treat." But after a few houses and handfuls of candy in your bucket, your were two old pro's at the game. After using the phrase Trick or Treat a few times, you both quickly learned that once the door opened, you could just say "Thank You" and the nice person would hand you small pieces of chocolate delight. To top it off, you would help the person close their door as a gesture of thanks for the sugar. Funny thing about Halloween at your age, you don't actually get to eat the candy because you are too young. However, as your parents we'll be the first to tell you that it isn't good for you and never mind what I have behind my back. Trust me, it's not the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup the neighbor a few door down gave you :-)
And now, your monthly Thomas the Train Engine Consumer Report. Your Lola and Lolo bought you three Engines, a DVD, a Traveling Engine Tote and a collapsible Thomas futon mattress contraption. Your Grandpa and Grandma bought you two DVDs, two Engines and two Rail sets (which they are saving the later two for Christmas). Both Grandparents have their own personal copy of Thomas Yearbook Catalogs: Edition XIII, which are sync with our copy we keep on my night stand for your bed time story. 100% obsession in full effect. I really can't complain about your obsession with Thomas. When I was a boy, I literally thought I was Ultraman. It's funny now that I think about it. Ultraman was a guy dressed in a rubber suit that looks like he's half man/half shark. So enjoying trains isn't so bad I guess.
Overall, the month of October was filled with events, snot, bruises, bumps, vomit, sugar and now compulsive disorder. Yes, your Daddy has taught you how to be compulsive with your trains. I taught you that the trains you are not playing with, but are out of your toy box, would probably have more fun watching you while in a straight line and at attention next to the rail yard. Now that's what I call fun! Organized fun. What's even more fun is when you are done playing, you can put them in your toy box so they could get a good nights rest. I am proud to say that you have taken this task as something fun and enjoyable (at least in my mind).
All joking aside, if I could have done anything for you last month, I would have gladly taken all your congestion, coughing and discomfort and claimed it my own. Watching you slow down from your average pace while playing made me feel like you were missing out on part of your childhood. I know, that's a little dramatic, but what can I say... I'm a parent! Love, |
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