November 29, 2006

Ok, now that we’ve got Hayes a helmet that he refuses to take off for $15 on craigslist, anyone have any idea how to find him a pair of skis/bindings/boots that don’t cost us more than a new TV? Anyone? Please, help now.

November 15, 2006

As we’d say here around boston, I’m a “winnah” of the New Yorker caption contest. Oh, and for those who are interested in the secret goings-ons behind the scenes in the dog-eat-dog world of New Yorker cartoon captioning contests, I present to you, a run on sent…uhm… my tell all!

Here’s how it all went down:

On the Friday before publication, I received a call from Zack, the non-enthusiastic maybe-intern at the New Yorker. I was at lunch, so he left me a message informing me I had been selected a finalist and that my caption would appear in next week’s issue. He explained that I needed to provide to him my address to confirm I am who I am (or… I was who I was, not sure of tense here.) I returned the call, and he returned the non-enthusiasm.

On Thursday I received my issue of the New Yorker. I was the on back cover along with two equally awesome captions. I had indeed won. I was very happy. I revved up the constituents, and alerted all of you on Monday to vote for me. One of the contestants, Steve, googled me and found my site. He posted a funny comment.

Craziness ensued.

My dad found out he was a lawyer and from California, so being my wine-nut dad, and also far too excited (that’s where I got it from — the excitement — I swear), he bet Steve a bottle of Pinot Noir I would win. No joke, he specifically bet Pinot Noir.

The contest closed on that Sunday. All who voted for me, my dearest thanks!

Then, nothing happened. After that, nothing. for 1 week, nothing. I knew on Monday they had to announce something. Someone had to win, right? I couldn’t sleep on Sunday night — I was too excited. I am a nerd. I forced myself out of bed at 6:30AM (before Hayes!) and went to the bathroom to check the computer. I have a computer in the bathroom. Again, I am a nerd. My dad called about 6:37 to congratulate me. Apparently, he had to be talked out of calling me at 5:45AM by my mother. He is a nerd.

And… well, that’s it. I have yet to receive my signed framed copy of the above, but I’m sure it’s coming.

Pretty cool, huh?

November 9, 2006

We’ve been pushing Hayes to learn his name. Ok, perhaps pushing ain’t exactly right. We don’t really push him to do anything — except behave, which normally fails. Anyway, a few weeks ago he got it. When asked his name he’d say, “Name: Hayes” Well, that’s how’d I’d write what he says. He doesn’t know what a colon is, so, well…

It was about that same time that we coined a new name for Hayes. You may remember he was HBomb for a while. Now he’s stunt baby.

Name: Hayes.

Occupation: Stunt Baby.

Yup, that’s him. And he’s earned it. It began at our friends’ place in Maine. With two year old twins, they’ve got a child safe downstairs, so we kinda let Hayes do his thing. They also have tricycle type things. Maybe they’re child safe. They’re certainly not Hayes safe. Not when I caught him trying to stand on the seat. I scolded him, and that was that.

So I thought.

Next thing I know he’s demanding, “Dada! Help!” from another room. I run in. Hayes is in a crib. In a crib. WTF? I scan the room. Next to the crib, the tricycle. He had used the tricycle to vault into the crib. I took him out. He did it gain, right in front of me. Tricycle seat > grab onto crib rail > pull himself over the edge > land on head > roll to his feet in crib.

Stunt baby.

Last week he took it to a whole new level. He got his first stunt related injury. He was sitting on the arm of the couch. I told him to get off. He does. Next thing I know, he’s falling backwards in slow motion (I’m not sure how he does slow motion), twisting a half gainer as he goes. His hands go out to brace himself for impact, but he underestimates and his hand can’t stop his entire force. He hits the ground.

Smack!

Pause.

“Waaaaaaaaa!”

Bloody nose.

Think he’d learn? You don’t know stunt baby. He was laughing within minutes. As soon as the nose stopped bleeding, he was at it again. We’re in trouble. Big trouble.

November 7, 2006

As Hayes’ vocabulary has rapidly expanded, so to has his demands. One of his most recent is to tell you to “Change diaper!” I know, kinda fitting given the name of my blog.

This morning he woke up and demanded, “change diapers,” continuing to scream about it until I came in and changed it. In his defense, it was very wet.

Of course, this was during my morning get ready time. Since I am the only one home with Hayes in the morning, I need to leave him in his crib so I can do the bathroom stuff to get ready.

So, anyway, I changed his diaper, and put him back in his crib without clothing. He demanded a shirt, so I put one on and returned to my bathroom duties.

“Change diaper!” he screamed again from his crib. I normally don’t react to a second request, but for some reason this morning I decided to. Good thing I did. He was standing, holding his diaper.

“Hayes, why did you take your diaper off?” I asked him.

“Hayes poop!” he replied. I took the diaper from his hand. Sure enough Hayes had pooped.

I returned him to the changing table, wiped up, put a new diaper on.

“Yay!” Hayes exclaimed.

I’m beginning to wonder how long I can keep my morning routine up.