"Jaden ala Spaghetti"

Chrysler Take Note

Guess what the best selling car in the US happens to be? The Little Tikes Cozy Coupe sold 457,000 units in the US last year outselling the Toyota Camry, the Honda Accord and anything Chrysler is marketing these days. Our household has happily kept up with the Joneses on this one, albeit with a $20 vintage version from a local garage sale. I doubt Jaden can tell the difference. Let's hope for the same naivety when he turns sixteen.

Obsession

My parents lost me once. Not in a mall, or a park, or at a fair. They lost me in their backyard. I'm not scarred from this incident because I can't remember it. I was still in diapers, barely walking, and I somehow escaped. I doubt they were really worried. It was the late 70s, we were in a town of less than 2000 people (of which my dad knew 2500), and our neighborhood was fast becoming my own personal playground. Within a few years of this incident I was welcome to toddle in and out of various houses within a couple of blocks of our own home. My favorite stomping grounds became the homes of Mrs. Bossart, Calvin and Ola, and Mr. Badger. They were all older -- with kids and grandkids of their own. But I was their neighbor and cute, and I let them know it.

Naturally when my parents lost me, they started looking in these various neighbors' yards for an inevitably naked-to-the-diaper toddler. They eventually found me. I was in Mr. Badger's strawberry patch happily helping myself to the season's crop. I crossed a street to satiate my need for fresh strawberries. Soon after my parents started growing strawberries in their own garden and since I can remember I helped "pick" them. Two in the mouth, one in the bowl...that was pretty much par for the course. I remember eagerily awaiting the arrival of the first strawberry of the season which I doubt I even offered to any other of my family members.

Now I have my own strawberry patch. This year, as I checked and checked for the first ripe berry, I would bring Jaden with me. When we finally found it, I shared it with him. The obsession has been passed down a generation. He cannot get enough. He mashes them off the plant in his chubby baby hands and stuffs them in his face faster than I stop him. And really, do I want to?

Putting Our Clothes Back On

The human body is a miraculous thing. By "miraculous" I mean "beyond my comprehension." Kind of like the Intraweb and/or TV. Miracles are sacred. They should remain clothed and unquestioned.

Unfortunately when our son's miracle-laden body came down with a virus from the dark lord this past week, Dustin and I became much closer to cracking the code of the ins-and-outs (no pun intended) of the human gastro-intestinal system. I prefer things to be the other way. I like diapers, and onesies, and cute clothes...and blankets. I like all of these things to be clean, which would indicate nothing was wrong with my sweet baby boy. That's how I like my miracles wrapped up.

However life briefly took us a different direction, hence the pathetic picture above. The last week has entailed two visits to the ER, a one night stay in the hospital under contact precaution, two separate IV experiences, and a job that was definitely too big for even the hippo balloon.

Fortunately, Jaden's wonderous body has figured out a way to heal itself. Henceforth we reclaim the miracle that he is. Regardless, everyone gets an extra layer of underclothing before bed tonight.

More Balloons

About a week ago, a pair of scissors was brandished and a birthday balloon was removed from its perch above Jaden’s high chair. (Note: This balloon had survived for nearly 2 months…is there a new element on the periodic table that I am unaware of?) For days after, Jaden would look up towards the heavens visibly wondering where in the heck his balloon had gone. Never fear, the post has been filled again. This time soaring above each meal is a great.big.giant.purple.hippo. Where did the hippo materialize from? The Emergency Room…of course.

Jaden got sick a few days ago. I’ll spare you the details. They aren’t pretty, but will probably be forever stained into the cream (great fabric choice) rocking chair in Jaden’s bedroom. This is our first encounter with mouth-exiting sickness, so my train of thought was not necessarily rational. I think the following scale sums it up nicely:

One sick: Yuck.
Two sick: Damn, not just a one-off. Call sister.
Three sick: WTF???? Call mom.
Four sick: Worry sets in.
Five-Nine sick: At what point do we call the doctor? Call sister again.
Ten sick: Call doctor.
Eleven sick: Go to ER.

We spent three hours with some of the nicest people on the planet. Evidence: They kindly suggested I leave the room when Jaden’s IV was being put in so I could be the “nice guy” afterwards. They wheeled in a DVD player so Jaden could “watch” Milo and Otis during our time there. They let Dustin pick out a ginormous balloon on our way out which elicited the faintest of smiles from little Jaden.

Since this episode things have been far from normal for Jaden. He has been running a fever, sleeping on my lap, watching Elmo Pets on repeat cycle, not playing one little bit, barely walking, and just generally lethargic. It is pretty scary to see. But, and I’m not joking about this, when we are attempting to get the least bit of food into his gullet I can still get him to smile by asking, “Where’s your balloon?”. It has returned, in all of its hippo glory.