Back to School

I remember my first day of Kindergarten. Mom had to carry me into the classroom, and I didn't want her to leave. I probably cried. I remember she only convinced me to stay because Maggie Sullivan was also there, so I knew at least one person.

That's what I was thinking of when I was holding Damien, while all the students lined up for morning prayers. He wouldn't let me put him down. He was only OK with me putting him down because he has a little friend—a boy from one of the Latin Mass families is also in his class.

It's hard to let your firstborn go. I assume it'll be like this all the way up to college. It's also hard to trust anyone with him. But his Kindergarten teacher is a mom from St. Michael's homeschool group, whom we knew way back in the day. We've known our pastor since he was a seminarian. And the school rector used to work closely with mom at Sts. Peter and Paul. I'm still not sure they're worthy of caring for my little boy five days of the week, but this is as close as we'll ever fine.

Oh, plus his school has Mass for the students once a week, and Benediction and Adoration every Friday. Damien told us that the teacher's aide (the lower grades all have two teachers per class!) "took him to keep Jesus company." Which means I will work to the day I die to be able to afford this school, if for no other reason than the spirituality. I may not be able to go to daily Mass and weekly adoration anymore, but maybe he can pray for me instead.

He's had trouble the first couple weeks. All the fears I had about whether or not he was mature enough for school were not completely unfounded. He's only barely five—the second youngest in his class, his Latin Mass friend being six days younger (July 31st was the cut-off date for birthdays to get into Kindergarten). The usual stuff: he doesn't follow directions well (surprise!), he cries sometimes in unfamiliar circumstances, he takes forever in the bathroom (and plays instead of using the potty). In otherwords, he's just Damien.

We managed to cure him of the excitement of school by the second day. Monday, he woke up, excited. "I get to go to school‽" Tuesday, was a different story. "No, I already did that." Yep, and you get to do it for thirteen more years, kid.

But every day, when I pick him up, it's the same thing. "Did you have fun at school today?" "Yeah!" followed by ramblings of all the things he did. It's sometimes hard to figure out what a five year old's been up to all day, just from his description of events. Things like, he didn't get gummy bears but the other boys and girls did, he played on the park, he wrote his name. He always comes home with dirty knees and sand in his shoes, so he must be having some fun. For someone who's always known exactly where his child is and what he's doing, this is perhaps the hardest part. Simply not knowing what he's doing all day.

But I guess we have to let go and say goodbye sometime. Even if it's only for a few hours a day.

{Phfr}

Babbies edition

{pretty}

{happy}

Four-and-a-half, and already a master of the dual-shock controller.

{funny}

I took Damien to his first movie the other day; he did fine, but I think I enjoyed it more.

Damien's rendition of Potter Puppet Pals' "The Mysterious Ticking Noise"

{real}

Covered in small creatures.

All Minecraft, All the Time

So, let's see what Damien has been up to in Minecraft since we last checked in.

His love affair with underwater pumpkins continues.

He's also developing his house-building skills.

...and sometimes combining the two.

Underwater pumpkin house!

Preschoolers + Minecraft = Chaos

So, while Damien wasn't looking, I made a copy of his Minecraft save game so I could see what he's been up to. Join me, won't you, for this voyage of discovery into the mind of a three-year-old.

Before we begin, I would like to point out that I have spent very little time teaching him how to play. I've shown him how to move and look around, and how to copy items out of the creative mode inventory. He's learned just about everything else himself from either watching me play, or figuring it out on his own.

So the first thing we see when we log on is...

Quicker Takes

So, following on his ability to burp at will, Damien can now toot on command.

...which, we realized, means that he has total control over those muscles down there and he has no reason not to be potty trained.

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I discovered recently that I'd been unknowingly been buying vegan chili for the last month. Did not notice it was meatless, even after eating it numerous times.

It's good chili.

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More Damien adventures in Minecraft: I made his game public on our LAN, so Anne Marie could join. She tried to start building a farm, and building in a Minecraft game run by a three-year-old is about as effective as cleaning a house lived in by a three-year-old. Anyways, I pointed out Rie's character to Damien, and he ran to her said "Hi, mommy!" dropped TNT at her feet, and lit the fuse. He spent the next 30 minutes following her around doing this.

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I've been growing my moustache out. It's now long enough to twirl. It's great, because now I have something to do with my hands while I think up evil schemes.

Actually, it's always assumed that supervillains grow evil facial hair because they're evil. But has anyone investigated whether the correlation goes the other way? Maybe facial hair just makes one evil. Maybe the hairs implant evil thoughts into one's head. Like, here comes one now: "I shall shave all the bunnies, kittens, and puppies in the world, depriving it of cuteness! Muahahaha!"

Hey, I never claimed they were good evil schemes.

But on the plus side, if we ever find my long-lost twin, we'll know which of us is the evil one.

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When did "totes" become a word, and can I hate everyone who uses it?

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What's the difference between a terrorist and a three-year-old? You can negotiate with a terrorist.

Quick Takes: Nobody Cares Edition

Wherein I write about things that are only of interest to me.

I had plans for several posts on diverse topics, but seeing as how none of the thoughts were congealing into structured, rounded, complete articles, I have decided to write partially formed, abrupt, unfinished tidbits on things none of you care about.

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OK, that last picture of Redemptrix was mean. Here's one of the ship in broad daylight, as an apology.

Redemptrix, as seen by a space-bug about to get gooshed all over the bow.

Quick Takes (3/1/2013)

Greetings from the couch!

Apparently, telling your wife that you don't believe in this whole "period" thing, and that she's just making it up, doesn't get you any brownie points.

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The Murloc wants to move to Mission Viejo. I want to move to Lake Elsinore. The Murloc has pointed out that Lake Elsinore is far from everything and everyone important (sorry, Blue Fox). This got me thinking:

Median sales price for Mission Viejo (Nov-12 to Jan-13):
$480,000

Median sales price for Lake Elsinore (Nov-12 to Jan-13):
$214,775

Price of a Cessna Skycatcher ≈ $145,000

The choice, it seems, is clear.

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Damien has reached the phase where he is now pretending to be things that he is not. He has previously pretended to exist in other states (such as pretending to be asleep, particularly when we're yelling at him, as if he can't get in trouble if we think he's asleep), but now he is pretending to be other creatures. After showing him the Simon's Cat videos on YouTube, he pretended for the rest of the evening to be a cat, and crawled around and meowed. He plays the act very well, since he will refuse to talk when he's a cat, and only nod or shake his head in answer to questions. After we put him to bed that evening, we would occasionally hear little mews from the bedroom. Just the other night, we gave him a piece of cheese, and while eating it he declared that he was a mouse, and began squeaking.

I'm sure child psychologists would talk about this being an important development milestone and indicates some form of cognitive step towards abstraction and the ability to reason. However, like a physicist explaining the colors of a sunset in terms of the light refraction caused by the interaction of different wavelengths of the electromagnetic spectrum with atmospheric dust, they would simultaneously be entirely correct and entirely missing the point.

You simply can't explain joy through science.

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Speaking of Simon's Cat, you can watch all the films here. They're short and cute:

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Colloquialism of the day/week/month: "As satisfying as bacon on a Saturday morning during Lent."

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Right now:
The Murloc is sewing a dress for a new friend's little girl's birthday. She likes to listen to her Aerosmith station on Pandora whenever she is sewing. It makes me feel like I'm back in college, rooming with Whale Biologist Tom Adams. Perhaps I should ask her to buy me a coke, for old times' sake.

Let's hope AJN and ECN don't get word of this cute little pink dress with pearls and lace, or The Murloc might have to start a home business!

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A spoiler/preview of CPM2DoB:

Miscellany

♫Catching up is hard to do.♫

First up, Cosplay.

First up in the Cosplay category is the costume The Murloc wore to Wondercon (motto: unlike other conventions, we are affordable and available!)

For this costume, The Murloc custom-made her own corset. Of this, I approve.

Recognize the character? Imaginary bag of marshmallows if you do.

No? Here, I'll post a picture of the actual character.

Still nothing?

Moo, Baa, La, La, La!

Really Totally Looks Like

"I'm so smart," I hear you saying. "I can tell Anthony and Damien apart by their hair!"

Well, OK then, you clever person you. Let's see how well you do when hats are added and hair is removed from the picture:

What do Resident Murlocs have for babies? Baby Murlocs!
This was hard to take. Damien kept taking Murky and putting him back in the living room where he belonged. OCD babby is CDO.
Two out of two babbies prefer the taste of swords.

More Totally Looks Like

The Damien-English Dictionary

The complete vocabulary

• Mama – Mommy (also used to identify an iPhone)
• Dada – Daddy/Donald
• Dadeye – Strawberry
• Nana – Banana
• Appo – Apple
• Ba-ba – Bottle
• Deedy – Mickey/Teddy
• Neeny/Ninny – Minnie
• Bubo – Pluto
• Doody – Goofy
• Daisy – Daisy Duck
• Pete – Pete the Cat
• Ohtoo – Toodles (Oh Toodles!)
• Adda/Addeye – Anthony
• Beeby – Baby (used interchangeably with Anthony for any baby/doll-like object)
• C-A-T Cat – Cat
• Mow/Mowf – Mouse
• Esseh – Elephant
• Giwah – Giraffe
• Bee – Bear
• Meow, Woof, Moo, Baa-a-a, Neigh, Oink, Qua (quack), Do-do-dooo (Cocka-doodle-doo), Twee (tweet, squeak), Roar, Gwah (growl), Ribbit, Hoot, Oo-ah-ah (howler monkey) – Various animal noises
• Ohwy – (Oh Really?) Snowy Owl sound
• Yahwy – (Ya Really!) Horned Owl sound
• Dadum, dadum, dadum, dadum – Shark noises
• Voom voom – Car sound effect
• Choo choo – Train sound effect
• Dwuh – Truck (no F-bombs from our little one)
• Uh-oh, Oh no! – Various exclamations (usually said with hands on side of head or on cheeks)
• Night-night! – Goodnight
• Hi – Hello
• Bye – Goodbye
• Aww – What he says when leaning in for a hug
• Yay! (clapping) – Used after a song
• Wuh, Two, Twee, Fo, Fi, Si, Sehseh, Ay, Ni, Ten, Lehveh, Twev, Tootee, Fotee, Fitee, Sitee, Sehtee, Aytee, Nitee, Twehtee! – Numbers
• Weh, Ownh (nasally grunt at the end), Yewo, Gwee, Boo, Popo, Bwa, Why – Colors
• Whasa? – What's that?
• Hussssssssss – The old woman whispering "hush"
• Up, UP, UP! – Where the Snort takes the Baby Bird
• Boo (short oo) – Book
• Boo! (long oo) – Boo!
• Deedoo! – Peekaboo!
• Yoda, Ahtoo – Star Wars characters
• Bah – Ball
• Bwah – Block
• Soosoo – Circle
• Suhsuhsuh – Cylinder
• Cue – Cube
• Twiah – Triangle
• Eye, No, Mouf, Ee (ear), Heh (head/hair), Chee (cheek), Teef, Knee, Foo, Toe – Body parts
• Fafa, suh, *kiss* – The Sign of the Cross, kissing the Rosary at the end

Further bulletins as events warrant.

Photodump

Totally Looks Like

Anthony totally looks like Perry the Platypus.

Damien totally looks like Anthony

Therefore, Damien totally looks like Perry the Platypus

Come to think of it, why has no one ever been able to take a picture of both Damien and Anthony at the same time?

There we go.

On the Occasion of the Resident Toddler's Second Birthday.

This is inaccurate. Two weeks later, the pediatrician measured him at 37".

According to the Baby Center Height Predictor, this puts him within 2.1" of 6'4" at age eighteen, with 90% confidence.

Chief Engineer Smiles O'Brien, Reporting for Duty.

Polite Babbies Always Drink their Milk with Pinky Fingers Extended.

All I Ask Is a Carrot to Ride and a Cake Wreck to Steer Her By.

A reference to the infamous "Carrot Jockey" cake wreck.