Cole really likes being sung to, which is no surprise, as I have a velvety smooth singing voice*. The problem? I really don’t know any kids songs, lullabys, what have you. When push comes to shove and I really want to win him over, I have resorted to singing this:
I reallty… REALLY need to learn some more songe before he can start singing this back to me.
Hey parents, what are you singing to your kids?
*Just kidding. I sound very much like Kermit the Frog when I sing.
Because I have a very busy life at the moment, Cole will continue to do the heavy lifting with his cuteness. Here are some recent baby developments captured in moving pictures (with sound!)
First, we found the tongue ejection button on Cole:
Then we tried to rot his brain with our iPad and the Uzu app.
So far, Cole has survived these early tribulations, and thrives as the most popular thing ever to hit Colombia (Or so you would think by the reactions of women, children, and the occasional street dog.)
Recently, Cole has started being a kind of a pain in the butt when we go out to restaurants.
We assumed this was because he has started teething. I am sure he has started this super fun</sarcasm> part of his life, as his drool mechanism is at full capacity, creating a slimy mess in full view of the respectable, non drooling citizenry.
So as it stands, our otherwise tranquilo kid won’t suffer restaurants. Our plan for fixing this?
Keep taking him to restaurants.
It’s a sort of expensive, yet delicious therapy, but if we want a child who can and will behave well out in the world, in front of people, we have to… gulp… bring him out in the world. In front of people. This method just requires a great deal more attention and effort on our part. I think too many parents, knowing what a hassle it can be, just choose to order in pizza. That is also a tasty option, but (I think) by taking that shortcut early, parents are in for a harder slog somewhere down the road.
I would like to take a moment to apologize to those patrons who have witnessed minor meltdowns. We recognize the inconvenience this causes, and work hard to quickly excuse ourselves from wherever we are when he gets too loud. We haven’t become *those* parents yet. We don’t let the little dude “cry it out”. I promise, this is a phase that he will get through sooner than later. He’s already responding to the therapy and getting better.
Now my waistline needs some therapy.
Fatherhood Fail edition.
We had an unnaturally nice day here in Bogota this weekend, so we went out to take some pictures and videos of the joint. Cole was in his usual spot, wrapped up close to momma in his moby, which he has grown so accustomed to, he will sometimes pitch a fit once in awhile if one of us does not wrap him up and walk him around.
Things were going well, and we set up for one shot that would take us about twenty minutes of being stationary to complete. I was worried at first, as a small strip of Cole’s face was right in the sun’s path. We decided to flip around 180 degrees though, and on inspection, he seemed to be in the clear.
I was wrong.
It’s would have been bad enough that his handsome visage had been temporarily marred by nature’s rays because I forgot to bring sunblock. I do that. I’m a forgetter of things. Ask just about anyone who knows me.
But nope. Not this time. We had the good stuff in the bag. It would have taken 30 seconds to get the sunblock out, inconvenience a sleeping baby while we gob some stuff on his face and continue with our day. Instead, we come home and an hour later I say “Is that a sunburn?”
Ugh. Hurts my soul when I look at this. It’s pretty much cleared up now, and you would not even know if he felt uncomfortable from it, but I promise I will remember this for some time, and will use generous amounts of spf-whatever to keep this from happening again.
If I am this distraught at a strip of a sunburn, just imagine my first post where I try to explain how I dropped him on the floor for the first time… (Someone please tell me that is a requisite noob parent move? Please?)
Social Media