authenticity

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Haircuts and X-ray Vision

October 10, 2010 | No comments

Every four weeks, Squirts and I head to Shannon’s place to get our hairs cut. Since Squirts started going to a salon instead of the local SuperCuts, we haven’t had any complaints from him on hair cut days. It may be that as one of the first clients in the shop, Squirts has the undivided attention of Shannon (or as Squirts has named her, “Queen of the Hair Place”) and two or three other ladies who happen to be in that early. I’ve heard that little boys don’t like to have their cheeks pinched and be fussed over—you couldn’t prove it by my kid.

On the other hand, it could be that our monthly ritual also includes a stop at the donut shop after our hair cuts.

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Say It With Me

August 22, 2010 | 1 comment

Squirts likes to talk. He gets that from his mommy! Many of our friends and family have been participants in one of his chatty exchanges. I say “exchange,” but in truth the conversations are usually fairly one-sided. He talks. You listen. He gets that from his mommy too! (Just kidding! Really! Just kidding!)

I love to look up or walk into a room and see him holding court with another adult. The grown-up usually stands slightly bent at the waist, nodding vaguely, with eyebrows arched and a barely open mouth circled in surprise. If a thought bubble popped up over the adult’s head it would probably say, “Wow, this kid can talk!” or “When do I get to say something?” or “What happened to this kid’s mom and dad anyway?”

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Flying Free

March 7, 2010 | 6 comments

My son’s bowels have an amazing ability to know when we’ve left the house. It’s as if they have some sort of GPS system that lights up as Squirts moves away from our home. It’s seems like the further we are from our house, the more likely they will need to, uh, move. In the year and a few months Squirts has been completely out of diapers, we’ve seen the inside of more department store, grocery store, coffee shop, ice cream shop and mall restrooms than I’ve probably seen my whole adult life.

A few months ago, Squirts and I were on our way to church. Squirts’ mom had already been there for several hours because she leads the worship arts there. On this fine Sunday morning, about halfway through our 30 minute drive to church, Squirts announces his need to go poo-poo.

After a quick glance to the back seat, I recognize the wide-eyed look that says without words “ AND NOW!” (Squirts bowels also have a certain sense of immediacy when they make their presence known.)

Visualizing the path to church, I remember a gas station and a Starbucks at the next exit.  Form past experience, I know that Squirts is very comfortable with the ambience of the Starbucks’ facilities, so that’s the direction we head.

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Sc-sc-scary!

February 21, 2010 | 3 comments

In the four years since Squirts was born, we’ve had a few scary moments (at least they were scary in the eyes of these two first-time parents):

  • As a newborn, Squirts spent his first few days of life lying in a bilirubin blanket because he was born jaundice. “Blanket” sounds nice and cozy. It was more like a mini-tanning bed/straight jacket combination that gave off this eerie blue glow day and night.
  • Eleven months later found Squirts in the Gulfport emergency room with an I.V. rehydrating his little body after a long, high fever. Of course, he didn’t seem worried because his mommy was laying in the bed right next to him with her own I.V. being treated for pneumonia.
  • Then there was the time he flew off a spinning office chair and landed face-first on a toy truck. The screams were loud and the cuts were messy. But both passed. The vision of him flying from the chair as I continued to spin it may never leave my memory.

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