Daily Archives: June 27, 2019

A new edition of the Daddy Chronicles, starring an almost-5 year-old pre-school grad who’s so excited about day camp, and a 20-month old with a right hook like Tyson

Happy Friday, y’all! Hope all is well in your world, I’m a little buzzed this morning (metaphorically of course) after two days of terrific Democratic Presidential debates, where I saw one of my favorites, Cory Booker, shine, another favorite, Kamala Harris, do very well, and really make me feel good that we’ve got lots of good candidates to take on the orange grifter.

It’s been a few months since I’ve done a Daddy Chronicles and there’s lots of changes going on with my two spawn, so let’s get right to it.

— First the big guy, aka Nate. This week saw him finish his early-childhood career by “graduating” from pre-K! He actually had a graduation with a little podium and a little cap and gown (see above), and while I playfully mocked how silly it is that a 4-year-old is “graduating” and they’re making such a big fuss, I guess it is a big deal (By the way, we were coerced by his school to buy a class yearbook. A yearbook! For 4-year-olds???? Were there gonna be senior superlatives like “best finger-painter” or “least likely to cry on the playground??  So crazy).

Anyway, he had a wonderful year, made so many great friends, and now it’s on to the big bad world of kindergarten. Seriously though, Nate has made great progress this year in so many areas like handwriting and drawing, and I’m thrilled.

—  Before kindergarten though, he gets his first full-day camp experience, which started Thursday. Nate was so excited to ride his first school bus, almost as excited as as he was to go to camp. They pick him up at 8:20 a.m., and don’t drop him off until 4:40. So Daddy is thrilled! He was exhausted Thursday after day 1, but had a great time, with only one real hiccup: He forgot to take off his underwear before going swimming the second time, so he came home with soaking wet, chlorine-smelling underwear in his bag.

But really, who among us hasn’t been there?

— The other big development in the last few months is after years of Nate having very little appetite to eat, often being congested, and rarely getting good night’s of sleep, causing naps even at almost-5 years old, we have a diagnosis. At our doctor’s urging, we took him for a pediatric sleep study, where they hooked up so many wires to his body he looked like Ivan Drago during the training montage of “Rocky IV.”

I was so nervous he would freak out and not be able to sleep, thereby invalidating the study, but Nate was super-brave and super-calm about the whole thing.
And it turns out, he does have moderate sleep apnea, and hopefully sometime this summer he’ll have surgery to remove his enormous adnoids and tonsils. The ENT doctor says we’ll see a huge change in his breathing, appetite and sleep, which is such incredible news.

— OK now on to the little guy, Theo, who we often call LB (for Little Boy, though given how big he’s getting that’ll be a wildly inaccurate nickname soon). He’s still a wonderful little boy, full of energy, hugs, and an appetite that just won’t quit. He cannot understand why, even when he’s got two fistfuls of crackers or blueberries in his hand, you won’t give him some cookies or melon. “Just because my hands are full doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give me more, Daddy!”

— His lack of speech is something we had started to get worried about: At his 18-month checkup our fabulous pediatrician frowned when we told her he wasn’t really saying much yet. But in the last few weeks he’s really started to say more, giving us a few animal sounds like “Moo” and “Baa” and saying words like “blow” and, hilariously, “clean me!” when he’s done eating and wants to get up and run around with his brother.

So I’m not too worried about him talking, it’s clearly coming.

— But the hitting. Oh, the hitting. Theo for the past several weeks has been a bit out of control with his smacking, and it’s getting worse. He hugs, then hits, me, his mother, and Nate all the time, and we try to ignore it but a lot of times it freaking hurts. We tell him “no,” we read book after book like “Hands are Not for Hitting,” and try not to give him any reaction to it, since the doctors all say babies are doing it looking for a reaction.

But he’s starting hitting other kids now, out in public, including our sweet friend Aaron, who while getting hugs from Theo at music this week sadly got two or three smacks, on two separate occasions. And let me tell you, a 28-pound bull like Theo can really hit.
So far, thank goodness, he hasn’t really hurt anybody, but this phase cannot pass quickly enough. Nate went through a hitting phase too, I remember, but it didn’t last nearly this long.

— On a happier Theo note, he continues to love following his brother around everywhere, he climbs every possible thing that can be climbed, and seems to absolutely love dogs, waving and laughing at every four-legged canine he sees. He also must wave goodbye to the swings when he gets off them, and Daddy’s pee pee when I flush the toilet and he’s in the room with me.

Hey, a proper goodbye is what a gentleman does, you know?