Hey Bud,
Nothing much to report tonight -- everything is still the same, really. Just wanted to tell you that I love you, and I always will.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
We're All Sick
Hey Bud,
Been a crazy couple of weeks, health-wise. First off, your dad is fighting some kind of illness. I'm not sure what it is, and I've seen a bunch of doctors who have assured me that, in spite of the fact that I feel sick, my body appears to be "functioning normally." Again, this blog is secretly one of those things where I worry that something will happen to me before you're old enough to know me.
So, just in case, "Hi, Henry. I love you. I'm your father. Make me proud, and for god's sake, behave yourself."
Got it? Cool. Anyway, so that's my thing. I've been feeling just "off" for about 3 months now. Some days are fine, some days less so...but all of usual danger signs are absent. So that's where I'm at.
You? Well, you're currently dribbling snot out of your nose at a record pace. Yesterday you sneezed one of the most epic, long-lasting "snot bubbles" that I've ever seen. It's been quite a problem for you...this congestion. I try to wipe your nose when I can, but you don't like that too much. I'd tell you to "blow your nose," but you can't quite understand the things I say yet. So, we're at something of an impasse.
Speaking of which, you could be talking now, but it's hard for me to tell the difference between "babble" and "words." Whenever you're in an "echo-y" area, you jabber like a madman...it's pretty adorable. You say things like "Ah-doo! Ah-doo!" I'm assuming that's something like "Hello." You also say "da da da da da," which I interpret to mean "Dadda." You also say "Ma ma ma ma," which I also interpret to mean "Momma." But you're not using them consistently...so I wouldn't want to claim a "first word" prematurely. Either way, you're doing just fine.
That is, other than your fever, runny nose, and a sleeping problems. It's too bad...you're such a sweet, well-behaved kid. If we hold you and you don't want to sleep, you buck like a bronco (and there's no chance of you going down). But man, if you're tired, you'll fall right asleep in our arms. It's very cute -- you're a very cute kid, and I'm just shocked that I was able to produce something so adorable.
Last night was interesting. We had some friends over to watch the Academy Awards (if you're looking for movie recommendations when you read this, check out "The Artist." It is a damn fine movie). You were up way past your bedtime, but you were having a ball with all of those people around. You're quite a little charmer -- again, very surprised that I'd helped create such a handsome, well-behaved, charming son. But that's you, my man.
After the show your mother and I were cleaning up...when all the sudden she bent over at the waist and cupped her hand over her eye. She was in a lot of pain...and frankly I was a little freaked out. She told me it felt like something was in her eye. I took a look, but didn't see anything. I put some eye drops in there, but she was still in a lot of pain that wouldn't go away. Finally, I decided that we needed to go into the emergency room.
I thought all of her poor eye hygiene had caught up with her, or something. I feared the worst. I just wanted to make her pain go away.
This was at around 11:00 PM. Your bedtime is 6:00 PM, but you'd stayed up until 8:00 PM that night with everyone else...so you'd only been asleep for 3 hours (that was some pretty quick math right there). I gently woke you up, buckled you into your seat, took a seat next to your mom, and drove off to the emergency room...as one happy family.
We checked in and waited to be admitted. As we were sitting there, you decided it'd be a good time to test our the acoustics of the room...so you were jabbering up a storm (to the annoyance of the other people in the waiting room, unfortunately).
After about ten minutes of waiting, your mother bolted upright, turned to me and said, "I think I got it." She held her finger out, and I saw the tiniest, lightest, finest little hair on the tip of her finger.
"Was that it?" I asked.
She blinked a couple of times. "Yep. That was it."
Relief washed over me. She wasn't going blind...she actually just had something in her eye. So we told the nurse to cancel everything and left post-haste. We got home, and went to be pretty quick.
That's where things stand right now, bud. Everyone in the house happens to have something wrong with them. I hope the thing I have isn't too serious. Frankly, that's what's causing me the most anxiety. I want to see you grow up into the awesome man I know you'll be, but I don't know why I'm feeling so crappy right now.
I have another appointment on Wednesday...hopefully this new doctor will be able to give me some answers...and eventually get me all patched up so I can watch you grow into an amazing man some day.
Been a crazy couple of weeks, health-wise. First off, your dad is fighting some kind of illness. I'm not sure what it is, and I've seen a bunch of doctors who have assured me that, in spite of the fact that I feel sick, my body appears to be "functioning normally." Again, this blog is secretly one of those things where I worry that something will happen to me before you're old enough to know me.
So, just in case, "Hi, Henry. I love you. I'm your father. Make me proud, and for god's sake, behave yourself."
Got it? Cool. Anyway, so that's my thing. I've been feeling just "off" for about 3 months now. Some days are fine, some days less so...but all of usual danger signs are absent. So that's where I'm at.
You? Well, you're currently dribbling snot out of your nose at a record pace. Yesterday you sneezed one of the most epic, long-lasting "snot bubbles" that I've ever seen. It's been quite a problem for you...this congestion. I try to wipe your nose when I can, but you don't like that too much. I'd tell you to "blow your nose," but you can't quite understand the things I say yet. So, we're at something of an impasse.
Speaking of which, you could be talking now, but it's hard for me to tell the difference between "babble" and "words." Whenever you're in an "echo-y" area, you jabber like a madman...it's pretty adorable. You say things like "Ah-doo! Ah-doo!" I'm assuming that's something like "Hello." You also say "da da da da da," which I interpret to mean "Dadda." You also say "Ma ma ma ma," which I also interpret to mean "Momma." But you're not using them consistently...so I wouldn't want to claim a "first word" prematurely. Either way, you're doing just fine.
That is, other than your fever, runny nose, and a sleeping problems. It's too bad...you're such a sweet, well-behaved kid. If we hold you and you don't want to sleep, you buck like a bronco (and there's no chance of you going down). But man, if you're tired, you'll fall right asleep in our arms. It's very cute -- you're a very cute kid, and I'm just shocked that I was able to produce something so adorable.
Last night was interesting. We had some friends over to watch the Academy Awards (if you're looking for movie recommendations when you read this, check out "The Artist." It is a damn fine movie). You were up way past your bedtime, but you were having a ball with all of those people around. You're quite a little charmer -- again, very surprised that I'd helped create such a handsome, well-behaved, charming son. But that's you, my man.
After the show your mother and I were cleaning up...when all the sudden she bent over at the waist and cupped her hand over her eye. She was in a lot of pain...and frankly I was a little freaked out. She told me it felt like something was in her eye. I took a look, but didn't see anything. I put some eye drops in there, but she was still in a lot of pain that wouldn't go away. Finally, I decided that we needed to go into the emergency room.
I thought all of her poor eye hygiene had caught up with her, or something. I feared the worst. I just wanted to make her pain go away.
This was at around 11:00 PM. Your bedtime is 6:00 PM, but you'd stayed up until 8:00 PM that night with everyone else...so you'd only been asleep for 3 hours (that was some pretty quick math right there). I gently woke you up, buckled you into your seat, took a seat next to your mom, and drove off to the emergency room...as one happy family.
We checked in and waited to be admitted. As we were sitting there, you decided it'd be a good time to test our the acoustics of the room...so you were jabbering up a storm (to the annoyance of the other people in the waiting room, unfortunately).
After about ten minutes of waiting, your mother bolted upright, turned to me and said, "I think I got it." She held her finger out, and I saw the tiniest, lightest, finest little hair on the tip of her finger.
"Was that it?" I asked.
She blinked a couple of times. "Yep. That was it."
Relief washed over me. She wasn't going blind...she actually just had something in her eye. So we told the nurse to cancel everything and left post-haste. We got home, and went to be pretty quick.
That's where things stand right now, bud. Everyone in the house happens to have something wrong with them. I hope the thing I have isn't too serious. Frankly, that's what's causing me the most anxiety. I want to see you grow up into the awesome man I know you'll be, but I don't know why I'm feeling so crappy right now.
I have another appointment on Wednesday...hopefully this new doctor will be able to give me some answers...and eventually get me all patched up so I can watch you grow into an amazing man some day.
Friday, February 24, 2012
For Bloophus
Hey Bud,
So, you might not know it now, but I'm your father. You're about 11 months old, and to you I'm sure I'm just one of the two people who happens to be around you all the time. Eventually you'll understand the concept.
Either way, I wanted to write you a secret blog. Not totally secret, of course...but maybe "just out of view." I hope to tell you about this some day...or maybe if I forget, perhaps you'll just stumble upon it.
I just wanted a place to talk to you for a bit, since you can't exactly talk back to me. Yet.
Who knows how long I'll do this...or if I'll even post a second blog entry. I put the odds at 50/50.
And "Bloophus" is the nickname we gave you as a child. I have no idea where it came from. I feel like it was a mix of Bocephus and Booger. Not the most flattering origin...but hey, nicknames aren't always supposed to be flattering.
Anyhow, today I took you to the playground for the first time ever. You've only been walking for a couple of weeks, so there wasn't a whole lot you could do. You ran around a little bit, but most of the time you sat down and tried to eat whatever you found on the ground. That's not a real great idea in Los Angeles, unfortunately...so I had to stop you.
It was a lot of fun for me. And you had a pretty good time too. It was only one hour, but it was amazing. I'm looking forward to many more years of stuff like this.
So, you might not know it now, but I'm your father. You're about 11 months old, and to you I'm sure I'm just one of the two people who happens to be around you all the time. Eventually you'll understand the concept.
Either way, I wanted to write you a secret blog. Not totally secret, of course...but maybe "just out of view." I hope to tell you about this some day...or maybe if I forget, perhaps you'll just stumble upon it.
I just wanted a place to talk to you for a bit, since you can't exactly talk back to me. Yet.
Who knows how long I'll do this...or if I'll even post a second blog entry. I put the odds at 50/50.
And "Bloophus" is the nickname we gave you as a child. I have no idea where it came from. I feel like it was a mix of Bocephus and Booger. Not the most flattering origin...but hey, nicknames aren't always supposed to be flattering.
Anyhow, today I took you to the playground for the first time ever. You've only been walking for a couple of weeks, so there wasn't a whole lot you could do. You ran around a little bit, but most of the time you sat down and tried to eat whatever you found on the ground. That's not a real great idea in Los Angeles, unfortunately...so I had to stop you.
It was a lot of fun for me. And you had a pretty good time too. It was only one hour, but it was amazing. I'm looking forward to many more years of stuff like this.
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