The gradually napping DanPar!

I mentioned earlier that my DanPar doesn't exactly nap easily at other people's houses.

But he does respond nice and sleepily to a good stroll and fresh air!

This particular descent into dozing was fortunately captured on film!

Excited for a walk with GrandMar!

Hats and smiles!

Aaaaaaaand flop.

Sleepy sweetie.

How's that wagon taste?

Sweet little arm hanging off the edge!

DanPar with GrandMar!

A couple nights ago, we had the opportunity to ditch the boy at Grandmar's!

For the day, I hung out there and did crafts, while DanPar hung out with cousin Cody!

This picture makes DanPar look GIGANTIC!!!

This is the art Mom does:

Fake flowers!

This is the craft we did!

Fake swords!

I'm finally going to get the chance to use these boffer swords tomorrow, too! Can't wait!

Jousting Cody!

Jessi and I then went to a charity cocktail party, raising money for kids to go to summer camp. And I have to say, it made me miss my teaching days. Just being able to talk to children who can talk back is amazing.

They took the picture too soon; we didn't have time to coordinate!

(As I write this, two neighbor kids went outside to have a fake robot fight, mechanically chanting, "DESTROY. DESTROY. DESTROY." I hope I appreciate those days when they come.)

On the ride home, we talked about what we would do that night. Something that we usually can't do with our DanPar in tow. So we decided to go out and see a movie! We've had gift cards for so long, and I was gonna wear my special Captain America: Civil War outfit!

Had to borrow DanPar's light-up sneakers.

But all the movie times were too late for us, so we decided to just stay at home and play Minecraft.

Rainbow railway!

Our farms.
(Yes, we grow cactus.)

Jessi let her team know that night that she was probably going to come in late the next day.
Because we have so much fun together. I hear a lot of parents talk about how whenever they're away from their kids, all they can do is think about their littl'uns, but we really didn't miss the little guy that much. Sure, we looked at a few pictures of him from the day, but we were mostly just worried because the boy doesn't like napping at other houses.

GrandMar with DanPar and JaiMar!

But the boy was super happy the next day when I went to get him, and I was greeted with the expression I usually get from him: "Mama?"

He had a blast, and he had the chalk on his pants to prove it!

Full belly, empty bowels

That's the secret to a good night's sleep around here. After a big meal, fill in the cracks with milk, and put on the blue diaper with the white stars to induce a nice big pooper before flopping him into his crib.
The boy still hates the actual going to sleep, but he sleeps well once he's down.

Earlier today, I was playing with the boy outside, when a guy across the street looked at us, glanced very overtly at his watch, and called, "Hey, why aren't you at work?"
Used to the attitude, I returned, "I'm a dad! This is my job!"
Without a hesitation: "Oh, I know what you're up to. But what's he doing?"
We laughed, and I said something about how he was just a little freeloader.

And man.
I looked at him thinking about how he would grow up one day, have a job.
Crazy math here: if your first kid has a baby the same time you do, as soon as you become a parent, you're halfway to being a GRANDPARENT.
I'm barely an adult! What the heck!

The tough thing about parenting a boy like DanPar isn't that your kid gets sad, it's that when he DOES get sad, it's something that you can easily undo, and make him happy.
"Oh, you're right, let's stay up all night!"
"You're not done playing the library toys? Okey doke!"
"Chocolate ice cream instead of chicken it is, then!"
It's hard, because his little human experience can't be reasoned with, and you know he doesn't understand why you're being so mean, and are depriving him of something that makes him happy. You have to believe with all your heart that doing the right thing rather than the easy thing will make him happier in the end.

Finishing a strawberry!

While the kid was fetching shoes, I looked down at the slippers on my feet, oversized (just the way I like them), and I had the odd feeling of "someday I'm going to fill these shoes", which was made even weirder because, no, no I won't. As a parent, I find myself experiencing small flashbacks of wonder and novelty from childhood, and then come back to the present, where my body and brain have pretty much done growing.

But this little guy has barely begun.

My kid is the best.

Star Wars

May the 4th [be with you] just came and went, and it makes me reflect on the first fictional universe I ever found myself immersed in. (But certainly not the last.)

Star Wars will always have a special place in my heart. For a while in my childhood, I pretty much lived and breathed Star Wars. My brothers and I would discuss the details of it, and, probably especially formative of my roleplaying lifestyle, we would create and enact entire galactic conflicts.
When you think about kids playing Star Wars, you probably think about kids trying to whack each other with gift-wrap cardboard tubes. And no doubt, that's definitely part of what we did.

But more than that, we drew and wrote. We created entirely original political powers that conspired with and against one another's in the Star Wars universe, referencing characters from the movies as well as from the videogames, and created our own droids for battle and espionage.

Such an awesome game! Can't believe it was made in 1998.

I still consider being a younger brother as a blessing. Not only was I able to participate in entirely imaginative games as a young lad, but I was given constructive boundaries.

When I was a teacher, I could always tell which kids didn't have older siblings. These were the ones who, when creating a superhero or a Pokemon or something (my classes were the BEST), would want their guy to be the best at EVERYTHING. Super strong, invincible, able to read minds, dueling with swords, blasting with laser rifles, and flying through the air with super speed.

Yeah. I didn't get away with that.

Enter the Flea. I attempted to make a super-small, all-powerful reconnaissance droid that not only could sneak around anywhere, but with an arsenal that could pretty much destroy a death star all on its own, thermal exhaust port or not.
Bucky was the one who picked on me most of all, and it took me a few years to realize that he was just putting down constructive boundaries (and also picking on me). He designed a counter-droid, the Flea Flanker, which just took everything the Flea could do, and made it just an eensy bit better, so that it could destroy my omnipotent little thing.

But enough about that. Let's talk about loner Woody.

I consider myself an introvert. I love being alone. It's how I recharge. Don't get me wrong, I'm a people person, and I'm nothing if not outgoing, but if I have an option, I'll go out on my own and take that booth in the corner, that empty back seat, and I'll go camping on my lonesome.

And it's wonderful.

When I was but a wee lad, I would pretend to fly TIE fighters and A-wings, bouncing up and down on a riding mower, with a pistol-looking stick in one hand and a trusty cardboard tube in the other.

And in my solitary hours of play, I didn't blast my way through swathes of stormtroopers, or slice AT-ATs into bits. I would infiltrate. I would tiptoe around the bad guys, and if they left me no choice, I'd blast them with an blue ion laser, which, according to my not-so-canon imagination, wasn't lethal, but rather just sent them flying away like ragdolls.

I'd run away from the Empire, and me and that famed astromech droid R2-D2, (which was just a big plastic pretzel jar with a paper plate on top,) would laugh as we flew away from the evil forces we'd just sabotaged. (Yup. When I played alone, even my imaginary friends weren't humans.)

And that's how science works.

And when I got around to playing the videogame Knights of the Old Republic (or Kotor, if you're as cool as I surely am), I would play the same way. Sure, I could use a lightsaber, but I really only threw it like a boomerang, because that was cool. Other than that, I'd cowboy through with two blaster pistols. And it would just be me and my new favorite astromech droid T3-M4, sneaking around, laying mines, hacking computers, locking doors so enemies couldn't get through, and taking on non-combat missions to get money and buy the best stuff.

Hey there have you heard about my robot friend?

Of course, this strategy gets really really hard towards the end, when all you fight are dudes with lightsabers.

As it turns out, lightsabers reflect lasers.
Crap.

But the way I played makes me love the newest Star Wars, The Force Awakens.
Rey isn't a hack-n-slash Jedi, she's a techie! A saboteur, just like I used to pretend to be!
Of course, she can handle herself hand-to-hand, but when it comes down to her specialty, it isn't in lightsaber duels. She's in her zone not in a fight, but behind the controls of the Millennium Falcon. Her power is in her wits and know-how.

 And I can get behind that.

Who needs humans? We've got droids!

DanPar's baby shower books!

Back when I was but an unknowing Dad-to-be, we asked out family and friends to, instead of cards, give us books, with kind little notes written inside.
17 months into DanPar being a real person, let's take a look back!

This is an old book, (copyright 1985.) so I opened this up a few days ago, since DanPar is now more or less okay with paper pages now. Jessi's parents used to read through this story, and replace all the neighbors' and pets' names with actual people and pets from their own life. Which is just too adorable. It makes me think, "Wow, I should really get to know my neighbors."

Daniel, We are so blessed to have you coming into our lives.
We can hardly wait to meet you.

This is what really got me thinking. I send the little tyke over to their house a couple times a week, and so when I read this, especially "We can hardly wait to meet you," I thought, Well, I hope they're not disappointed. It was a weird thought to have, but for some reason, I couldn't help remembering all the hype there was around DanPar the Magnificent.

It's amazing with family. You can love someone before they're even here.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This was given to me by my former DungeonMaster (whom I have dethroned) and friend since high school, Jared. Dude's awesome. I'm his freelance official editor, and he's working on getting his own website into popularity, over at The Nerd Cavern. (Check it out!)

You can be anything you want to be. Whatever you choose to be, be the best at it.

So, if we had our way, DanPar would be the lead scientist of a global fellowship of humanitarians, who finally find a way to provide plentiful clean water across the world.

But if DanPar has his way, he'll probably want to be a ninja.

So by golly, be the best ninja there is!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The big joke here is that DanPar's "GramPar" is a Sanders. So, Pooh's crashing at big Joe's place, and it's funny.

Big Joe's a big softie when it comes to babies!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I love this book. So much. I read it to DanPar on mornings when neither of us are morning-ing very well. I have a rule: Having a slow morning? Too bad, read Great Day for Up, and with gusto! 

"Congrats!" is such an interesting word to use. You got BORN, bro! Congrats! Of course, there's no better word, because there's no single word that could possibly encompass all the joy, newness, and sheer mystic power of new life.

I'm also excited to see my guy grow up. Kind of. I take a bajillion pictures of the guy now, and I hope that'll help. And so far, everything about the kid is perfect. I'm worried that when he grows into a real human being, he'll be just as flawed and human as everyone else.

Amy and Bryan's little sweetheart, Cody!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I'm one of those parents who doesn't care if boys like girly things or vice versa. So bring on the princesses, and bring on the magic. Plus, as a teacher, I know the value of themed books and assisted reading books.

Thank you, Salvador Ramos! Your powerful words have really resonated with me, and your well-wishes are well-received!
(Yeah, I thought it'd be funny to include a random thrift store book we got. But I'm all out of jokes, so, um, done.)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Luckily for DanPar's bookshelf, we have plenty of friends who have gifted him books. And lucky for me, because man, it's easy to write a blog post when it's just 'Hey, let's look at what everyone else said!'

Thanks for reading, reader!

He's just SO CUTE.

Ten years from ten years ago, Part 1

My mom recently gave me an incredible piece of history. Like, the sort of thing you'll find in a museum someday.

Written in 2005, it's the official "what will I do in 10 years!"

Let's go ahead and start going through these, and see how prophetic young, naive 16 year old Woody was!

READYSETGO

Let's see, in ten years, I'll

I'm gonna stop myself right here. I still talk like this. I start every new idea with "Let's see," or "So," or "Well," or "You know,". I don't know why. I have just apparently always spoken like this.

-have a big, cheap, low-maintenance van

The plan was definitely a good one. And I still admire the idea. The idea was that I could go out on big road trips with my group of a thousand friends, and go wherever. Currently, my dream is to have a nice truck, with good seats, and enough space that I can help people move.
But alas, I've got my baby-safe-mobile, with sunroof, moonroof, and only five seats.

Hard to get more low-maintenance than this!

-not have had a date for six months

You know what, 16 year old Woody? You're WRONG. Just a few weeks ago, when the grandparents had the little dude, Jessi and I went to King Soopers, bought a pint of Ben & Jerry's, and sat on nice couches, talking about science-fiction technology. Maybe YOUUUUUUUUUU just don't know what a date is, loser!

Married person dates: when you aren't impressing anyone anymore.

-have had 4 different jobs

Count with me here, folks.
Job #1: CutCo knives. I ostracized my friends.
Job #2: KenTacoHut. I made the mini pizzas, and was allowed to have the Colonel's facial hair.Job #3: McDonald's. I flipped burgers and poured drinks, and worked way too early.Job #4: Southlands theatre. I tore tickets and cleaned up vomit. Not actually that much fun.Job #5: Jimmy John's. I assembled sandwiches like nobody's business. Actually that much fun.Job #6: Tradesmart. I appraised books and records, and gave people peanuts on the dollar.
Job #7: Kumon tutoring. I helped people with calculus. Whoa. Weird, right?Job #8: Global Village. I taught English to hundreds of elementary schoolers.

I'd say this is a tidy little resume of sadness, up until 7 and 8!

Woody, doing his job.

-eat Ramen noodles every other night

You are such a fatty, 16 year old Woody. I actually cook stuff! I've got a family to feed! But yeah, I probably do eat a bowl of cereal every other night. Cereal's awesome, guys.

-be perfectly happy

That's...actually a pretty deep sentiment, Woody-16. I'm stressed, sleep-deprived, and honestly, some days I can't do much more than stare at Daniel as he runs around and learns to spit water from his sippy cup. But yeah. I wouldn't change a single thing.

If I changed my life even a little, I might not have this!
And that's unacceptable.

-wear cheap clothes, probably still wear shorts

Woody-16 was renowned for wearing shorts every day. Rain, snow, shine, dark of night, all the time. I hate to disappoint you, man, but I've decided that refusing fashionable things simply because you don't want to be fashionable isn't a good idea. I wear jeans now. (But only when I'm going outside. Otherwise, pajamas 24/7.) 

Today, in fact, is double pajama day!

-have written three books, which went nowhere

I'm still working on writing one complete book. That's one of my New Year's resolutions. I've joined a workshop and everything! But the hardest part is definitely just sitting down, and mashing the keyboard until a story shows up. Good or bad, I'm sorry that I never got around to those three books, man.

When even my Sim can't be bothered to write, you know I'm in trouble.

-have written over thirty poems, which went somewhere

I wrote poetry when I was a teenager. And oh, it was teenaged poetry. Dramatic, exaggerated, impassioned, dispassionate, you name it. But I will say, I thought it was pretty darned good stuff! I've come to accept that my old stuff I put on LiveJournal, although it was done by a younger me, was important to me then, and so was important to who I am today.
And fine, here's one I liked.

I ran as fast as I ever have,

longer than I knew I could.

But they are still close.

I shouted at the top of my lungs,

louder than I knew I could.

But they aren’t going away.

I’ll subdue any opponent.

Give me a battle!

I want a challenge I can see!

But I can’t do a thing.

Mentally armed to the teeth,

ready for anything I can touch.

But I can’t do a thing.

Totally useless I remain,

here.

And I can’t change that.

I can’t do a thing.

I can’t fight.

I can’t fight these monsters.

I haven’t done a thing,

that at that time was wrong.

I want to buy that ring,

but all of them are gone.

There’s nothing I can do

while I’m out here far away.

I’d promise all to you,

But I can’t make you stay.

I get castigation

for a crime I never did?

You want compensation

for the same state that I’m in?

I’ll accept all the pain

to make us more whole.

I believe it to be in vain

if you don’t have me full.

“THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO!”

as I shout into the night.

These monsters all are you.

And there’s nothing I can fight.

Okay, that's 8 things, out of my list of a bajillion. That's enough for now.

Trust me, there'll be more. (Especially with gems such as "refuse to have a family" on there.)

Prince and lawn care!

Prince died a few days ago, and so another immortal musician has died in 2016.

Most of my friends were pretty sad about this. Some just said something along the lines of, "Well, I never listened to his music anyways." Which rubbed me the wrong way. Like you're watching a funeral procession, and you feel the need to contribute some dismissive comment.

I have a rule in my life to earnestly pray for the well-being of the souls of the dead, and this time was no different. However, in my attitude of "What a good boy am I", I realized I'd never listened to Prince before, either. So, today was the day!

I don't believe in pirating music (anymore), but thankfully, I'm pretty literate when it comes to online catalogs, and checked out Prince's album Ultimate while mowing my lawn.

And WHOA. Prince friggin' rocked, guys! I didn't know he was the guy behind "When Doves Cry", and the line "party like it's 1999". My favorite song from the album was definitely "Controversy". I had no idea it was a 7-minute song until just now, actually, because it was just a fun beat to mow to!

I know, I know, this doesn't have anything to do with fatherhood or DanPar or anything.

But I'm glad that Prince has meant so much to my friends, and I'm really happy to say that I enjoyed this music! (If I'd listened to his music, and found it bad, I probably would be staying respectfully quiet.)

DanPar was pretty busy doing his own thing while I mowed.

His own thing.