Outrigger Island

And then, alas, I was a Wiggle no more.

Vacation Bible School ended on Friday night after six nights of screaming, dancing and high-fiving kids learning about Jesus. Someone got the idea to ask me to be the announcement guy, which ultimately meant standing up on stage in a shirt I thankfully will never need wear again while exciting the children. It was amazing to see all those kids, and now I truly know what it must be to have been a Wiggle.

What impressed me most about the week, though, was the incredible talent in our church. I was mesmerized by the story Laura Bott told to 20 three-year-olds as much as I was the fact that anyone could contain said group of three-year-olds for an entire story time. I was amazed at the energy Amanda Scott put into, well, everything Amanda Scott does. Being the technical infant that I am, I was even impressed when Nikki Godfrey-Hill fashioned up the most popular Power Point slide at a moment's notice.

The whole week made me feel pretty good about that whole taking a village to raise a child thing. We sure have some kind of village going, even if the wardrobe still needs a little work.

Grand Names

Question: What do you (or did you) call your grandparents?

With the wealth of baby blogs out there, I've seen more than my fair share of names for grandparents. When they were alive, I called my dad's parents Ma and Pa. I never knew my mom's dad, who died when she was but a girl herself, but I still call my mom's mom Baba. Legend has it, as best I recall, that Stephanie named all three of those grandparents as her prenatal right of passage, being the firstborn to both families.

Is that how it works? Do people generally find the first syllabic noise a baby is able to repeat and assume that name for grandparents? Seems strange to me. Strange that a woman can live four decades of her life named Hilda and all of a sudden she becomes Baba to both family and, basically, an entire community. Strange that a woman named Carol almost five decades starts calling herself Grammy like she's P Diddy or Prince (or the hardware on their mantles). But maybe grandparents like it that way.

What do you call your grandparents? Why?

Baby Shower

Attention: Brief message due to Anna writing this blog, not John.
Family and Friends threw John and I a shower on Saturday June 8th, here are some pictures.


John and I at the shower.


Dad and I


John, myself and Riley


John opening "his gift" from his mom. A Wee Block to use on Baby Marks when changing his diaper.


Daddy packing up the car with lots and lots of gifts.

Baby Thoughts

So we went by the baby store, and it got me thinking. Aren't we, and of course by we I mean the people who think up the pithy sayings for baby onesies, asking a bit too much of our still unborn fetuses?

Every shirt reads "Little All Star" or "Future Slugger." If I read the word princess on one more outfit I swear I'll think I'm orbiting Epcot. One shirt actually read, and I kid you not, "Someday I'll Demand a Pony."

Really? Tell me, what's wrong with being a utility infielder? What's wrong with a seat midway down the bench if on the bench at all? And is being a cottage maiden really so terrible? How many princesses do we need?

Seems like we put an awful lot of pressure on a person whose life goal for at least a year will be figuring out where to poop.

And another thought: Parents should get together and create a dictionary consisting only of baby words. My entry? Cheeriotee

Cheeriotee: The result of snacking on Cheerios, when undoubtedly one misguided grain morsel will forego the mouth entirely and adhere itself the the perfect center of a child's chin without any indication given to said child.

And another thought: For the past little while someone in the house has been reading a book devoted entirely to breastfeeding (hint, not me) and sharing the vital information with everyone else in the house (hint, only me). I can live with it, but it just makes you think. If a man spent that much time reading about and discussing breasts, be they for feeding purposes or otherwise, people would undoubtedly think much less of him. I'm just saying.

Sometimes When We Touch

Poll question:

Can babies perceive the actions of their parents while within the womb?

I ask because, as I was holding Anna's tummy this afternoon to feel the baby, I squirmed away after a few kicks/headbuts/butt rubbs/whatever they are. Anna said I should stop doing that.

"Don't pull away every time he moves," she said. "He'll come out and have a complex."

And, for the bonus quote of the day, yet another reason men should not be allowed to partake in prebirth classes--expanded vocabulary:

"I just episiotomized my pants."

-me, after finding that a new button sewn onto my beloved gray pants by my wife did not properly fit the space meant for the original button, then finding the kitchen scissors, then, well, you know