April 28, 2005
This picture is fresh, taken mere hours before posting, and he's looking pensive. But about what? Is it food? Maybe food. Or possibly food?
Ultimately, it's not up to me to say. It's been too long since our last caption contest (see March 8th). Will Bruce, #1 Fan of the Elliott, win again with his patented "only person entering" technique? Or will he be swept off the stage by a new contender. The pool of possible applicants has expanded greatly in the last two months, and it's anybody's game.
Submit your caption idea of 10 words or less to Dave at ThisBoyElliott dot com by Monday, May 2nd. I'll power morph it into a one-of-a-kind fabulous prize for the talented winner. The losers get nothing and like it!
April 27, 2005
Maybe we should have his transmission checked.
April 25, 2005
When the Elliott laughs, he warms up with a few trick laughs, where he opens his mouth wide, sucks in his breath... and then holds it with this absolutely blissful glitter in his eyes. We'll call this stage one. It's like he's priming his laugh pump. After he gets suitable pressure built up, he'll move into phase two, during which he lets loose a couple of rapid chuckles then gets stuck mid "ha" and trails off into a diminishing "huuuuuuuuuuuuuh." Stage two is pretty adorable and satisfying. If that's not enough, you can keep going to stage three. In stage three, he'll repeat the first half of stage two, letting off rapid-fire chuckle bursts until he runs out of breath. His stage three laugh is my absolute favorite thing about my son. That is, until tonight, when we discovered stage four.
Sarah and I were playing peekaboo with him during his bath, hiding below the edge of the tub and then popping up and saying "boo." Pretty standard stuff, but always good for a stage two. Sarah went to make dinner, and I guess I got a little rowdy. Instead of popping, I sort of lurched over the edge of the tub and to my surprise, he moved directly into a stage three giggle stream. Never one to disappoint an appreciative audience, I made my next "boo" more of a "BOO!!" and slapped the tub with my hands during the lurch. For a split second, I thought I'd scared him because he flinched a little. It turns out, the flinch was because the laugh that was about to explode out of him was smashing into things on its way out. I was literally knocked back by the storm of belly laughs that thundered out of my enormous, beautiful boy. His mouth stretched wide, his face turning red as he struggled to catch his breath, he laughed for a good 30 seconds off a single "boo." I don't think I've ever heard something so pure and powerful. I called Sarah in and did an enormous "BOOO!" with much hand waving and googling of the eyes, and he let loose with another stage four laugh, splashing water and looking like he might be hyperventilating. It was delicious. You've heard of the infectious laugh, but this one truly was. First I noticed that Sarah was giggling like an idiot, then noticed that I was doing the same. It's been a long time since I've experienced an emotion that involuntary.
After we let him back off from complete asphyxia, I went for one more round, with both Sarah and I laughing our fool heads off while our sweet Gargantua sent little tidal waves up and down the tub, roaring and gasping. It was mighty. Outrageous. Magical.
I say this without a hint of sarcasm: this laugh could end war, if only we could show enough people.
April 22, 2005
Hey! It's Friday night and we're actually home! I've got a pile of letters cluttering up the place. Might want to go get a sandwich. You're going to be a while...
Jay/Dan writes:
Dear The Elliott-
I suppose as your favorite uncle, I should take the time out of my
busy schedule to write you once in a while. So what better time
than to introduce you to your newest cousin. (S)he doesn't have a name
yet, so for now, you can call them The Cousin. I'm sure the two
of you will have a great time playing together.
The Elliott is so excited to have another cousin on the way. With one older cousin and one younger, he was trapped in the depressing liminal state of middle cousindom. He had no one with which to ally himself. Now, he and the Roan can band together as the two older cousins and bring great mischief upon their unfortunate underlings. It's great practice for future world dominating. Congrats, Uncle Jay/Dan and Co.!
Jessica's Mom (the MGG)
writes:
Hey! I don't remember reading that in the brochure either and it is such a constant, gnawing, bittersweet truth of parenting you would think it would get a headline or a brochure of its own.
I'm glad to find I'm not the only one who's noticed that kids never call, they never write! JM (the MGG) went on to share some parenting observations of her own which I will not reveal here. As a newly inducted member of the Order of Enlightened Parents, I must be very careful with our secrets. Let it suffice to say that Jessica should hug her Mom more because JM (the MGG) cares very much for her. Thanks for the insight, JM (the MGG)
Chris writes:
Why
don't you have pictures of Elliott... FIGHTING CRIME OR SOMETHING?!
Huh? Are
you and S. trying to hide something?! Every picture you have is just
him being funny and cute. I don't believe it for a second.
Sans feu
Chris is one of the reasons I was inspired to start blogging about the boy. That's why he received an inaugural link over there on the left. Chris is a punk rock tattoo-sportin' Lynux-lovin' braniac computer geek currently getting his Masters in French Philosophy down in Eugene. That is, he's studying philosophy in French! If anyone should be out fighting crime, it's Chris. We'll have to come up with a good comic book character name for him. Chris also gave me my first outside link, which awakened the gaze of the mighty Googlebots. The day I ego-surfed for This Boy Elliott and something actually came up was a proud day indeed. As you can see, we all owe much to Chris.
Also, "Sans feu" when translated by an online French to English dictionary means "without fire." That makes no sense.
My dear sainted Mother had a guess about the washcloth picture (hold the mouse over the picture for the caption):
He likes to chew on the knots.
Nope. Well he probably does, but that's not it.
Rebecca (Supreme Commander of the Nerd Army) also had a guess:
Dear Elliott,
I was reading your website today, and wanted to apologize on behalf of
your father for that thing he put on your head while you were in the
bath. A do-rag, as far as I am aware, is not meant to be made of a
washrag. They are, in fact, two separate things. Perhaps he should
sock that Gap photo money away into a fund for your therapy. Just a
thought.
It is not a chew toy, and it is not a "do-rag." He's wearing it because his brain hurts. It is clearly his bath-time tribute to Monty Python's classic T.F.Gumpy sketch. I was quite surprised that someone who fancies themselves leader of a whole army of nerds missed a seriously nerdy pop-culture reference such as that. No dork points to be awarded this night!
Also, everyone should go click on the "1" in April 1, 2005 below. You may then send me hate mail for next week's Friday mail call! Until then, sans feu, et ayez un bon week-end!
Ooh la la!
April 21, 2005
Be warned, I'm going to get a little melancholy here, so if you're not in the mood, go re-read one of the funny ones.
One thing that fascinates and frightens me about the Elliott is spending time with him in public. When he's in familiar territory, he gets terribly wriggly and silly and has an almost endless appetite for play and interaction (and food). However, when he's outside that zone, his personality seems to retract, almost shut down, as though he's trying to devote as much energy as possible to simply observing everything he possibly can. He doesn't smile much, he doesn't really acknowledge you. He becomes a big, expression-impaired environment sponge.
I was so excited about swim lessons, but I have to admit to a little frustration because he's so focused on the other kids, the fun play structures, the slide, the light in the window, the drops of water on his face; anything but you singing "I'm A Little Teapot" and wiggling his arms around. If he's facing you and something he's watching passes behind you, he has this heartbreaking way of flicking his gaze, not just across you but with complete disregard for you. During the moment you are blocking the view of his target, it seems like his brain shuts down the recorder so as to leave room for more new stuff.
I realize this sounds a little narcissistic. I never promised you any less. It's not so much that I want him to focus only on me or on what I want him to focus on. I'm thrilled at the light of discovery and burgeoning intellect I see in his eyes when he becomes so enthralled with and distracted by the world around him.
Perhaps it's the sudden realization that he's beginning his journey to autonomy. Up to this point, he has relied on Sarah and me for everything. This sudden awareness of the broader environment serves to winnow us down, to put us in perspective. We are becoming an ever shrinking part of his world. It's jarring to have no recollection of what life must be like for him, a rapidly expanding bubble of consciousness in which every day Sarah and I are joined by more and more entries in his mental encyclopedia. From the expression, or rather the lack of expression on his face, it must be both exhilarating and overwhelming.
So this is what it means, at least in part, to be a parent. To watch your child slip away from you by degrees. I don't recall reading about this in the brochure. The change is a little hard to take because it seems so abrupt, although in retrospect he's been waking up like this for quite some time. It makes me wish I'd known how this would feel back at the beginning, though frankly, I'm not sure what I would have done differently.
April 20, 2005
Everything has been in such a state since Sarah left for Kansas, I haven't been able to crow about my fun birthday surprise.
Several months ago, Sarah informed me that my birthday weekend was officially claimed, but wouldn't tell me for what activity. Since I am a surprise junkie, I gladly saved the date, and then occupied the ensuing weeks with regular pestering about my surprise.
Me: "Are we going South?"
Sarah: "Do you want me to tell you what we're doing? Because I will."
Me: "No, I want it to be a surprise."
Sarah: "OK. Stop bugging me about our trip!"
Me: "Ah HA! So it's a trip of some kind!"
Sarah: "Aaugh!"
Two months of that was a gift in itself. Finally the weekend arrived and when I went to pick Sarah up from work her coworker Bruce, (#1 fan of the Elliott), said "So, you guys are going to Sunriver? That's going to be great!"
Sarah: "Aaugh!"
So we went to Sunriver to go romping in the ponderosa woods of Eastern Oregon. That was the plan, anyway. But instead, the Elliott gave Daddy a very special stomach present, and we ended up hanging out at this awesome house Sarah had rented. It's spacious and beautiful and if you're looking for a great vacation rental (sleeps 10) only 16 miles South of Bend, I can't recommend it enough!
While we spent most of the time camped inside, we did get out to the High Desert Museum, which was just plain outstanding. They have the most comprehensive and well thought out exhibit about the changing role of Native Americans that I have ever seen. It's a must see if you're out that way.
So even though our hiking adventure turned into the scene you see to your right, it was the perfect gift and I can't thank Sarah enough.
OK, I promise tomorrow we'll talk about the Elliott again.
April 18, 2005
Sorry for the lack of updates. Single handing a baby is a big time sink. Since I have a billion pictures from this weekend, I'll try to make up for it here.
Sarah returned on schedule, and I was only a little late picking her up in Seattle on Friday night. We had a lovely whirlwind weekend, enjoying time with your Cyber-hosts, James and Dylan, as well as with my other lifelong friends (and their wives), Toby and Amy, and Patrick and Megan. Patrick and Megan have two daughters who are conveniently about 2 years ahead of Elliott, which means he keeps claiming their old stuff. The horde in front of our fortunate son here represents less than half of the booty we scored during our visit. We send you much thanks, P&M, for your generosity. Toys R Us, however, is very pissed at you.
It should also be noted that Toby and Amy have a beautiful son, Gus, who is 6 weeks older than Elliott and extremely adorable. Also, the Elliott could hold him in one giant hand. I fear that once my boy figures out how to crawl forward, climbing the Empire State building comes next.
We also managed a little quality time with my immediate family at my Sister's house. We were able to drop off the Roan's 4th birthday gift (see April 2nd below), and also pick up our weight in slightly-used boy clothes. Could we have timed this kid better? I think not.
We took a walk to the grand re-opening of the Fremont Libray where Roan witnessed the elusive Seattle Public Library Fairy. I was unable to see her since I'm such a curmudgeon. We paid a visit to the nearby Fremont troll, about which the Roan expressed some trepidation. He kept his fear at bay by repeatedly telling us it wasn't real and was just made of rock. I instructed him that actually, all trolls were made of rock, trying to decide if freaking the Roan out would sit well with my Sister. Moments later she started telling him that the troll was sitting still just so little kids would draw near enough for him to grab and eat them. Despite our combined efforts, the Roan got up enough gumption to actually touch the troll's face, and even practiced the gargoyley arts, at my behest. He did keep a wary eye on him, though, just in case. I can't wait for the Elliott to get this gullible.
That night, we left the Elliott with his first non-relative baby sitter, a young woman I used to baby-sit, ironically enough. We abandoned him to see The Sound of Music, which was very good; on par with some of Vashon's best performances. This was thanks in no small part to my Mom's expert stage direction. Sunday, we fled home through horrendous hail storms to cower in the basement catching up on a week's worth of Tivo. In all, a wonderful, sort-of restful weekend.
I am SO glad Sarah is home. I love the little guy, but taking him to the bathroom with me is just kind of creepy.
April 13, 2005
This is Elliott's new favorite bath toy. Touching it makes him so happy, you have to toss out "happy" altogether and start using words like "ebullient" and "ecstatic." If you're dorky like me, you might even describe him as "frothy with glee." I think it's safe to say we won't have trouble getting him to brush when he actually has something worth brushing.
In addition to this, for the past two nights after bottle and story, the Elliott has closed out his evening by standing on my lap and staring at me, face just inches from my own, until I open my mouth for him. Then he carefully begins probing the deep recesses of my mouth, pulling at my teeth, pinching my tongue and trying to peer down my throat.
It started on Monday night. I was just opening my mouth to gargle silly noises at him and he dove right in. The past two nights, he's squirmed around until I could help him stand up on my knees, and I'm certain he did it expressly so I would open my mouth for him to ransack.
I'm sure it sounds a bit weird for those of you without children. It sounds weird to the part of my brain that still thinks like a non-parent. But I'm also betting that the parents out there are all nodding their heads right now thinking of the equally weird things their own children have done when they were too young to know that shoving their hand down someone else's gullet was considered a social faux pas.
Am I teaching him something wrong? Or am I teaching him that his Daddy will suffer any indignity in the name of exploration and science. I'm perfectly fine with him learning the latter.
And if he becomes a dentist, you'll all know why.
April 12, 2005
Sarah has left me.
Not permanently, but as the corporate executive in our family, she occasionally gets sent on hifalutin' business trips around the country, and this time she's in fabulous Kansas! She will be there until Friday. In other words... Heeeeeelp!
Actually, we're doing fine. Elliott is sick, as usual, but it's not so debilitating that he can't be a total goofball, as shown here, except less Mom.
Speaking of which, last week's guilt trip paid off again, and Sarah got two letters which I failed to post last night. Since she's abroad, I thought I'd post them for her enjoyment. You can enjoy them too, but that's just gravy.
Leslie writes:
Great kid, wonderful website, add MOM!!!!
Hi
Sarah,
Tell "DAD" Elliott needs more pictures of his beautiful MOM
on this site too -- there are those in the viewing audience (now,
thanks to his Grandmom) that want to see the whole family!!!
Your son is adorable, your husband is handsome (Happy Birthday Dave)
and we miss you!! It is a wonderful site and we shall look forward to
visiting often. Now bring that cute little guy and take a trip to
Maine -- we'd love to see you here!!! I'm forwarding your website to
Lissa, who is now in law school in Boulder, CO, so she can enjoy it
too!
Many hugs and much love from everybody on the northeast side of the
country,
Leslie & Daryl
I've never met Leslie and Daryl, but they get glowing reviews every time they're mentioned around Sarah's family, so we really should head over to Maine. Plus, I like lobster.
Incidentally, Leslie, I did a little research. Sarah has appeared in exactly 23.5% of all pictures posted on the main blog site to date. She is only exceeded by the Elliott himself, who clocks in at 94.1%. Amazingly, I only came in at 11.7%, which is stunning considering how pretty I think I am. Also, the reason her percentage isn't higher is because she makes faces at nearly every picture ever taken of her. Here's some general advice to all married and soon to be married men (Bruce, are you listening?). Never post a picture of your intended on the internet unless she tells you it's OK. Make sure it's a definite OK, and not just something you could interpret as OK. If you're not sure, blur out her face. And always blur out your son's GW.
My mom writes:
Sarah,
Thanks for making Dave the proudest papa on the planet. And I’m sure you’re just a little pleased yourself. What a perfect little person you two have created. I can hardly wait to get my hands on him again.
Love, Lynne
My Mom is pretty cool. Elliott looks forward to being handled.
Since Sarah is a natural born homebody and without a doubt a little home/Elliottsick, I'd like to challenge you all this week to click Sarah's link and send her a nice letter which I'll make sure she can access from OZ. This is the longest she's ever been away from the Elliott, and I'm sure she'd love to hear from you.
And since this update has morphed into a letter to Sarah, Hollie called, be careful out there, eat beef, don't tip the cows if it's muddy, wear clean underwear, and hurry home. I love you.
April 11, 2005
That's right! Elliott has survived 8 months in our care, which means you've spent two months of your own life regularly visiting this site. Or at least you should have been.
Since I didn't update on Friday, today is letter day. But first, click the following links:
Now click them in reverse order because our son has learned to lwarc. Actually, the baby book says this is a normal developmental option, which to me makes zero evolutionary sense. I would think this adaptation would result in very lost, hungry, frustrated neanderbabies.
But enough with the anthropology! On to letters.
Meg writes:
Well, I’ve finally been shamed into writing, by my (our) own mother, no less. Yes, our standards have slipped considerably, though we still insist that Isla be home by 8:30 every evening, and that she not eat Easter candy in front of her brother (whose reaction to excessive sugar has been well documented). BUT, we would never think of letting Isla eat real Cheerios™ at the tender age of 7 months! No, nothing but Joe’s O’s™, made of 100% oats, for our little princess. Don’t worry, Elliott—a box is on its way! Love,Aunt Meg
P.S. I am filled with both incredulity and admiration for this epic website.
I knew it! Meg is a real, honest-to-goodness PhD slingin' scientist, so there was no way on Earth she would expose Isla to wheat starch when her English major, B.A. slingin' brother wouldn't, second child or no! And Elliott is very excited about sticking Joe O's to... well, everything.
Jessica writes:
Ainsley
sent me a link to your site and it's utterly adorable. You
should also know that she called you a dork. I'm a friend of
Ainsley's, I was actually at your wedding :-). Elliot is beautiful!
~Jessica~
Then Jessica's Mom writes:
LOL ... love the website.
my daughter, Jessica, got the web link from Ainsley and passed it on to me. She says you are nerd supreme. It is a high compliment in her world.
Dave
is nerd supreme.
Wow. Multigenerational groupies. I knew Elliott would probably be a chick magnet, but I never expected him to appeal to such a wide spectrum. And I hereby promise not to encourage the use of "chick-magnet" in his vocabulary. Ainsley, by the way, is the Elliott's oldest Aunt on Sarah's side. She might also become #1 Aunt of the Elliott, although the jury is still out. I will say, getting people to check out the site is a great way to cement that title for yourself.
Also, I prefer "dork" to "nerd." Nerd has such negative connotations.
Finally, my lovely mother writes:
Oh happiest of birthdays to the proudest papa on the planet! Love, Mom
Thank you. I really am. Even if he does crawl backwards.
April 7, 2005
Saturday is my 34th birthday, so Sarah is whisking me away on a mystery trip starting at noon tomorrow. I have no idea where we're going, but it won't involve blogging, so this is it for the week.
At the risk of being labeled smarmy, I'd like to say that you're looking at the best gift anyone has ever given me. Floating barbells.
He's silly, he's curious, he's mysterious and daring. He's tough, he's sweet, he's gentle and noisy. He's nothing like I thought he'd be, but better than I could have possibly imagined. I'm so in love with this little Gargantua that I can hardly contain it, and I can't wait to see what he'll do next. Thanks for letting me share him with you, because otherwise, I might just explode.
Have a great weekend! Letters and first ever crawling pictures Monday!
April 5, 2005
Elliott has recently made a new discovery. Pay attention, because this gets a little technical.
If you smash your hand into water, it goes all over the place.
For some reason, we've been trying to get him to start splashing since we started bathing him, but last night he finally got it. Wow did he get it. Right now, thanks to the high-tech splash inhibiter ring, his downward force is pretty limited, resulting in relatively minor water dispersion. It won't be long at all before he learns to swing from the elbow, and then it'll be like front row at a Gallagher show.
True parting of the waters is being held off by one other factor. Elliott is not a huge fan of water on the face. Actually, it makes him totally freak out. Oddly enough, this panic only lasts a few seconds and then he laughs his little head off.
NOTE: This phenomenon does not apply to dunking. That's not just water droplets on the face. That's a whole pool full of water on the face, and even if it's only there for a millisecond, you clearly bear him ill will and you'd better spend the next minute whispering "It's OK, It's OK" in his ear or it will not be OK. Amazingly, despite a dunk per lesson, as of swimming lesson number three today he still does not hate water as a whole.
Also, I'm using my boy as a model for my lovely birthday present from my folks. He's a great model. Until you leave him in the outfit a little too long. Then he gets all petulant and starts abusing himself, just like grown up models!
Thanks Mom and Dad!
April 2, 2005
We interrupt your normal Saturday non-broadcast with this late breaking news! My nephew, the Elliott's #1 cousin, the Roan, has broken the daunting FOUR barrier. Once thought only theoretical among academic circles, Roan has proven once and for all that it does indeed exist, and can be broken! Congratulations, sir! We salute you!
Roan, I look forward to you getting the Elliott into as much trouble as my cousins got me, and our parents cousins got our parents before us. It's what cousins do.
There is one bit of sad news. It appears after initial observations that breaking the FOUR barrier makes you clinically insane.
April 1, 2005
Believe it or not, on Tuesday I sent this photo as a lark to Gap, Inc. and THEY BOUGHT IT! It's not a mint, but it's a nice start to the Elliott fund. Crazy, no? Then again, can you blame them? Now on to letters!
Great Aunt Suz writes:
Hey, only really cool outfits get recycled! What exemplifies cuteness better than a baby carrot? You don't ever hear anyone ever saying "What an ugly baby carrot", Do you? Well, anyway I thought it was cute and would only enhance your reddish blond hair, and baby carrots are always plump, so there. I would only hope the next volley of gorgeous brothers or sisters get to wear the suit (complete with extra protection, wide brim cap).
Love always, Aunt Suz
P.S. Keep up those caption appropriate poses. I love them.
So now we know from whence the March 17th carrot suit came. The irony here is terrible. My wonderful, generous Aunt Suz was my sole source of fashion until I left home at 18, at which point I lost any remaining vestige of style. But she gets points for trying, as well as my undying love and gratitude. We promise not to burn the hat. We promise not to use it again, too.
Sarah's Aunt Dana writes:
Dear Elliott,
I enjoy tuning in each week to learn of your latest adventures. I hope to meet you in person someday - maybe when your g-grandpa Jeffers' school is dedicated in 2006. It will be fun, too, to see you with your 2nd cousins.
Love,
Great-Aunt Dana
This letter caught me totally off guard. Sarah has an enormous extended family, but I had no idea word of the site had spread that far. Heck, up until this week, I had to remind Sarah's Mom to read it. This is my first step towards world dominance! Oh yeah, the Elliott says "hi," Dana. We'd love to attend Grandpa Jay's school dedication next year! We'll put it on our calendar.
My sainted Mother writes:
Elliott,
Don’t you let them take your Cheerios away! Just check with your Auntie Meg, who, as a second-time mother is letting down her standards. I personally watched your cousin Isla gum down at least a dozen yesterday with no perceived ill effects. Of course, they’re getting a little desperate with her, trying to find SOMETHING, other than mother’s milk and the meat sauce from a local take-out shop, that she’ll deign to ingest.
Keep up the good work on swimming. You’re already putting your father to shame!
Love,
Grandma Vashon
We would, Mom, but we're too chicken of allergies. We'll ruin the (completely theoretical) next one.
According to my sister, the swimming dig refers to me being pretty unenthusiastic about water as a child, of which I have no recollection. My only negative swimming memories were when we'd go swimming on San Juan Island sailing trips and Dad would insist I go swimming in ice cold Puget Sound, despite serious tantrumming on my part. You know how you love and appreciate your parents forever, but you have a long laundry list of things you'll never do to your own kids? That one's on there. Oh how we'll laugh when I end up doing it anyway.
Mom also sent me a letter to complain that I didn't call on Easter, for which I'm surely going to Hell, bringing our letter total to a record breaking FOUR! More world dominance! This week, I'll whine that no one ever sends Sarah any letters, since the guilt trips have been working like a charm.
Please note, a new month means a new archive button. Explore March in the comfort of its own separate page and have a happy weekend filled with April showers!
