Calling Social Services

posted by Evan Jake at 7:06 PM

That's me in the picture with a big, swollen gash on my adorable little noggin. Okay, it's not so much a gash as it a superficial flesh wound. I know you're wondering: How could Evan Jake meet such an injurous fate when he has his magic blue helmet to protect him? Was it dad's fault? Well, here's how it happened...and no, it wasn't dad's fault at all.

It begins at daycare. When mom picked me up, I was playing in the sandbox. Because I was covered in sand, mom took my shoes and socks off before putting my in the biggie van. I guess she still has that new-car paranoia. Usually, I take my shoes and socks off myself while riding home. But since I was already bare foot, I decided to start working on getting that pesky helmet off instead. As they say, idle hands are Evan Jake's playground.

First mom heard the velco on my helmet come undone. This didn't come as a surprise to her since I often get the velcro loosened myself. But for the first time ever, I managed to wiggle that helmet all the way off all on my own. When the helmet came off, the smell of my sweaty head gave me away. Mom looked back in the mirror and saw what I had done. But mom wasn't about to pull over just to put my helmet back on. So I rode the rest of the way without helmety.

When we got home, mom took me out of the biggie van without my helmet and took me inside. I was so excited that I had successfully gotten helmety off, I ran inside toward our front door. In all my excitement, I guess I lost my footing and took a tiny header into a very large metal doorframe. Needless to say, it hurt just a wee-tad.

A few tears were shed. Some screaming was heard. And much hysteria ensued. Mom thought she might have to put me back in the biggie van and take me to the emergency room -- you know, the place that place where dad likes to hang out waiting to get treated. But it wasn't that bad. No baby ER required. Mom bundled me up and made me feel all better. I'm fine now. But the lump on my head is preventing me from wearing helmety. Too bad.

It was fun to take helmety off, but maybe I better leave it on. I need that thing for protection. Helmet baby need helmet!

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Male Bonding

posted by Evan Jake at 7:27 PM

This weekend mom was co-hosting a baby shower for a friend of ours. (I guess I'm getting a new baby friend to play with, which will be awesome. Hopefully he or she won't steal too much attention away from me.) Apparently I was not allowed at this baby shower, which seemed a bit ironic, since I myself am a baby. But I prefer to take baths anyway, so I didn't really mind.

Instead of going to the shower, dad took me out with all the guys. (They weren't allowed to go to the shower either.) Dad and the guys took me to an Irish pub for lunch. I like eating at restaurants because I always get a new set of crayons to draw with every time. I also got to eat my usual favorite, chicken fingers and fries. I did not, however, get to join the guys for a beer. I just had soy milk.

After listening to them talk about the NCAA tournament, women's softball uniforms and DC politics for over an hour, we went back to my fake uncle Jason's apartment (the one with the really big TV) and played video games. These guys all seemed a little bit old to be playing video games and they didn't offer to let me play. But at least they didn't all talk as much while they were playing -- although there was a good bit of yelling and shouting. Even though I wasn't allowed to play any of the video games I probably had just as much fun wandering around the apartment and taking my shoes and socks on and off over and over again.

I had tons of fun hanging with the boys. And I think dad's friends thought I was pretty cool, too, even though none of them have babies yet. I don't think dad had as much fun as he could have with his friends because he was so busy watching me every second to make sure I didn't swallow anything or hurt myself. I think he was terrified that if anything at all happened to me on his watch, that mom and I would leave him and have him put in daddy jail. That's why I promised dad I wouldn't tell about everything that happened when we were with the guys. Somethings are better left just between us males.

At the end of the day, I ended up having a great time. I didn't cry at all or harm myself in any way. Dad did a great job. He gets a gold star. I think the fact that I had so much fun without mom made her a little jealous. I wouldn't mind going on more outings with the guys. Maybe next time I can get to drink more than just my soy milk. Helmet baby need beer!

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Off the Wagon

posted by Evan Jake at 7:44 PM

Is it off the wagon or on the wagon? Whatever you call it, I'm kicking the bottle. Don't worry, I haven't shaved my head or gone into rehab...yet.

Way back, when I was little, I was cut off from nursing almost cold turkey. I was switched to nice warm bottles instead. But now those bottles are slowly being taken away, too.

A couple months ago, mom tried to take away my morning bottle. That did not go over very well. I had horrble withdrawal and kicked up such a fuss that mom let me have them again. But now, mom is gradually replacing my precious bottles with sippy cups -- or as I like to call them, "tippy-sucky cups" because they require a carefully coordinated tip-and-suck technique. Sippy cups are like methodone for us bottle addicts. They still give us the rush of formula that we need, but in a safer and more civilized delivery method.

I don't exactly understand why I have to give up my bottles. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we're showing our house-without-stairs to potential buyers and mom and dad don't want my swaths of empty bottles lying around. Admittedly, at my peak consumption, the kitchen counter was so full of bottles every day, it somewhat resembled a frat-house during Mardi Gras.

I guess I should look at the upside: less bottles means more real food. More real food means more french fries. And I love french fries. Helmet baby need more fries!

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15 Months and Going

posted by Evan Jake at 7:53 PM

Today I notch another month into my cribpost. The weather is warm, the sun is out and the world is mine.

With the mild temperatures arriving, dad has been taking me on walks around the neighborhood everyday. But unlike the last time the weather was warm -- several months ago -- I don't take walks in my stroller anymore. Now when I go on walks with dad, I walk along side him or behind him, on in front of him, or running in a zig-zag pattern toward the street.

I love going on walks with dad. People on the sidewalks stop and smile and say how cute I am. I get to meet lots of doggies and get licked and slobbered on, too. I also like to collect pine cones. That's me in the picture pulling a pine cone off a branch. When I pick up lots of pine cones, my hands get sticky and sometimes my fingers get stuck together. Then I need an assist to pry them apart.

I like to walk over to my neighbor and say hello. Today she gave me crackers. Why did she give me crackers? Because I asked for them!

That's right, I'm realizing that this talking thing can actually be an effective way of getting what I want. When I say, "cracker" one magically appears in front of me! Normally, I've relied on my adorable cuteness to manipulate people into giving me everything. But now I can combine my cuteness with words and get exactly what I want when I want it.

My words are still a little jumbled and hard to understand. So I supplement my words with some sign language. Right now the signs for "food" and "more" are the only ones I find useful. Darned if those little signs don't actually work!

Well, if you need me, I'll be out cruising the neighborhood looking for pine cones and crackers. Helmet baby need more crackers!

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What's in Store?

posted by Evan Jake at 8:21 PM

This weekend mom and dad started getting the old house-without-stairs ready to sell. They were taking things out of all the closets and drawers and boxing them up. They even boxed up some of my precious toys. Hey, I might need those!

Mom loaded up the biggie van and dad drove it away with them all piled high in the back. I was curious where all those boxes were going. So on one of the trips I took a ride with mom and dad to see where they went after they left the house. It turns out dad was taking all those boxes to a big square building with no windows. Mom and dad took me inside to scope out the place.

All the floors were made of concrete and it was really cold because there was no heat. There were rows and rows of rooms that all had big sliding doors on them. I know about door knobs, but these big sliding doors were new to me. Dad showed me a room that he had rented for us. He opened the big door and there I could see all my old toys! There was my swing, my bouncy chair, my mobile, my play mat, my old car chairs and bath chairs. Oh, the memories.

Then I wondered what all my stuff was doing in there. Was this my new room? Were mom and dad going to leave me here? The only thing that was missing, really, was my crib and some stacking cups. Other than that, it was nearly ready for me to move in.

Dad said not to worry, it was only a temporary storage unit. If you ask me, it looks more like a temporary dumpster. If all this stuff is so important and valuable, why are you sticking it in a concrete building with no windows and no heat? Why not just throw it all away? Well, what do I care? Just so long as they don't leave me in that locker. If they did, at least I'd have some toys to play with.

After a long day of packing and cleaning, mom and dad took me out for dinner. I can actually be quite good dinner company these days. I love sitting in a high chair and watching all the people around us. I like to stare people down at the table next to us until they smile. If they don't smile, I'll point to them and say "bah." If that doesn't work, I'll clap my hands and sing a song. If that doesn't work, they must be made of stone and aren't deserving of my cuteness. Who can't smile a cute baby in a helmet singing and clapping?

Mom ordered me chicken and french fries off the Evan Jake menu. I love to eat french fries. I also like to squish them in my fingers and rub them on the table.

After my dinner the nice waitress lady brought me a dessert called ice cream. It came free with my fried chicken and french fries. I guess they're trying to fatten us babies up. I'd never had ice cream before because it's made from milk. I'm not supposed to have a lot of milk right now because it makes my skin itchy. Mom gave me a big spoonful or ice cream anyway. It tasted really sweet. But then I got this really bad headache -- like my helmet was on too tight. That was weird. Helmet baby no like brain freeze.

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STAIRS!

posted by Evan Jake at 8:08 PM

Tonight a nice man came over with lots and lots of paperwork for mom and dad to sign. It was many, many pages long and had lots of fine print. Dad made a joke that he was probably signing away his first-born child. I didn't think it was very funny. I got my crayons out in case they needed my "Evan Jake" anywhere. But they didn't. Only mom and dad could sign these papers because it was a contract -- a contract to buy a new house with stairs!

Clearly dad didn't win that record MegaMillions jackpot, because it's only a townhouse and not a real house. I wonder why its called a "townhouse" when it's neither located in "town" nor is it a "house." That would be like calling my dirty diapers "fresh pants."

We first visited the house over the weekend. It's very nice inside and just up the street from where we live now. It has lots and lots of stairs. Three floors worth! (Did I mention the stairs?) It also has a big deck out back -- dad better learn how to grill. I picked out my new bedroom already. It's a big room with a high cathedral ceiling, a sun-lit bathroom with a deep soaking tub and a gorgeous view out over wooded hills. There are two other bedrooms upstairs, but those are both smaller than my room now. There's no way I'm downgrading. Mom and dad can fight over which of them get the smaller rooms.

There are also four different bathrooms in the house. That's a lot of bathrooms considering that between me, mom, dad and the two cats, only two of us actually know how to use the bathroom -- and come to think of it, I'm not so sure about dad.

On the lower level, there is a big basement and an extra bedroom for when any of you want to come for a sleepover. I think I'll spend a lot of time down there playing. Dad said he'd like to spend lots of time down there, too, because he won't be able to hear my crying as much. That doesn't bode well.

The main level has a nice sunny kitchen, just in case anyone ever feels inclined to use it. There is also a nice big dining room and living room for me to destroy.

Mom and dad will move us into the new house in June. In the meantime, they have to sell our current place. Yeah, I wonder who in their right mind will want to buy a place without any stairs -- but if you know of anyone who does, mom and dad encourage you to have them call their realtor right away!

In order to sell this place, mom and dad are going to have to clean it up, a lot! And they're going to have to keep it clean until it sells. Good luck with that. I'll do my best not to imbed half-chewed animal crackers into the rug, but I can't make any promises. Actually, I think this place will show quite nicely with all my day-glo plastic toys everywhere.

So wish us all good luck in selling this place. I'm looking forward to moving into our new "townhouse." But now that I think of it, Helmet baby need a real house!

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