Weekend in Review

Baby Milestones
The Undaling is now doing what they call the "army crawl" or the "commando crawl" or the less-political term, the "inch worm". This is an exciting milestone and marks the end of the immobile period of his life. From this point forward, our baby-proofing will be put to the test. I'm told by more experienced parents that we will soon regret helping him learn how to do this, and long for the days when he would just lay there, as we work to perfect the art of redirection.

Couch Time
To mark the occassion of the baby on the move, I got in one last weekend of extreme couch sitting. The NFL draft was a perfect opportunity to get my off-season football fix, while spending a full day and a half chained to the living room like a "Black Snake Moan" character.

Tattoo
It remains one of my 2007 resolutions to get a tattoo. I'm still in the research phase. This weekend, I spoke to a kid with a fresh tattoo on his forearm.

"Do you think you'll regret that when you're 70?" I asked.

His mother replied: "It's temporary. He's three."

Very interesting.

Foiled Again

I consider myself an intelligent person with a lot of real world experience, but the other day I identified a gap in my early education that I can't quite explain.

As I pulled a baking dish of super-delicious macaroni and cheese out of the oven and fearlessly peeled back the foil, it struck me: I was in my late twenties before I learned that aluminum foil won't burn you when it comes out of the oven. Up until then, I handled foil as if it were hot metal, threatening to scorch my sensitive hands. I'm not sure of the exact moment when the lightbulb went on, but I know now.

Live and learn.

I'll make sure my son is aware of this important information before he starts high school, so he doesn't repeat his father's mistakes and needlessly put wear and tear on an oven mitt.

Baby Talk

I have Sirius satellite radio, and listen to Howard Stern daily on my drive to work. I normally don't put his show on until I've dropped the Undaling off at daycare. Usually, I'll go with sports radio or music until then, or just turn the radio off and make funny noises at him (if he's in the mood).

So I'm not sure why it appears his first word is going to be "Bababooey".

He said "booey" this morning, and he's been saying "ba". He just hasn't put it all together yet.

Anyway, I'd like my wife to know that I'm not polluting the little one's mind in the morning with adult-oriented radio. He must have picked this up at daycare.

While I'm on the subject, it appears the Undaling will be going mobile very soon. He's been rocking back and forth on his hands and knees now for 4 or 5 days and it's only a matter of time before he takes off and begins to explore the electrical wiring behind our entertainment center.

Father of the Year

Holy crap! If you haven't heard Alec Baldwin's tirade directed at his 11-year-old daughter, click here.

I've lost my internet connection at home for some reason, so I'm looking forward to a lovely time on the phone with technical support on Saturday. Hopefully, I'll be able to post from the laptop sometime in the near future.

Because of this issue, I was unable to "live blog" while watching Sanjaya's exit on Wednesday night. It was a fun ride. Sanjaya: Always Remember, Never Forget. Fearless prediction time: I think Melinda Doolittle is the best singer on the show, but Jordin Sparks will win. I guarantee the producers of the show would prefer this, since she is more marketable and will probably sell more CD's.

The Landlord

Here's a link to Will Ferrel's video, "The Landlord", starring his 2-year-old daughter: The Landlord. Here is a People magazine story with background on the video.

We purchased the new laptop mainly for video editing. Mrs. U might be pretty upset if I did something like this, but I won't rule it out.

In other news, I fear this may be the end for Sanjaya. I hope I'm wrong and he continues his improbable run toward reality show history. The longer he lasts, the more entertaining the show. Keep your fingers crossed.

The Undaground Update

Woohoo! The Undaground has expanded. We've purchased a hi-tech, futuristic device called a "laptop". This will make it possible to update the Undaground blog from a hi-tech, futuristic area of our dwelling known as the "living room". The first words and images sent from our living room base to this humble blog are expected to be seen sometime this week.

This is another step in the right direction in our effort to make our living room more of a stand-alone, multi-purpose area. Along with the laptop, we've recently added a comfortable quilt to the room. Next up on the official living room fortification plan is a hibachi grill and a porta-john.

Stay tuned!

Touche!

Mrs. U and I were getting ready to watch Survivor on Tivo last night, and I started to delete last week's episode from the hard drive.

"Sorry, babe. I need to delete this. I guess you weren't able to watch it all, but you'll catch up in the 'previously on Survivor' highlights."

My wife answered. "What are you talking about? Didn't you hear me say earlier that I had watched it?"

"No. Did you say that?"

"Yes. I said it, and then I made some comments about the girl who was voted off. You even answered me and everything. I thought we were having a conversation."

Uh oh. I don't remember that. "Honey, are you sure? Did you have that conversation with somebody else?"

"No. It was you. It was about an hour ago. Are you serious? You don't remember?"

Fumbling for a reason now. "Was I holding the baby?"

"No. I was holding the baby. You were holding the remote."

"Oh. Maybe I didn't hear you."

"That's impossible. You responded to me."

"Really?" Sometimes I'm a terrible husband.

"BUSTED!"

Busted? Geez. What to do now?

My wife continued. "Do I talk too much or something?"

"No, what?!? No. Ummm."

I need something to say here. This is not going well. I need to go on the offensive quickly. Come on brain! Give me something, anything. Wait, I got it!

I changed the subject. "What's my middle name?" I needed some quick ammunition, and when I opened my mouth, this came out. I was a pez dispenser and this question was a shiny piece of candy.

My wife was now off balance, but it was an easy question. "Phillip." Then she looked at me like, 'where are you going with this'.

I continued my offensive. "How many 'L's' are in 'Philip'?"

My wife paused. I had her. "Ummm. Two?"

"Nope. One."

"Oh, sorry. That's so weird, just one 'L'."

Time to go in for the kill. "I think it's weird that my name is misspelled on our son's birth certificate. Did you know that?"

"Really? No I didn't know." The conversation was still going on, and already my wife was looking sorry.

"Yes. I was looking through the baby book the other day. On the official document that proves the existence of our son, I am not listed as his father. Some dude who spells his middle name with two 'L's' is listed."

My wife was silent. I was starting to feel bad.

"Honey. I'm sorry about not hearing you earlier. I think it's my ears. Too many loud concerts as a youth."

"I think you heard me, you just weren't listening to me."

"Yes, but that's just a temporary issue. You may have altered history with the middle name on the birth certificate thing."

Touche.

The good news is that I got out of this one. The bad news is that I am now officially out of ammunition. I guess next time I'm in trouble I could remind her that she forgot to pick up my fruit snacks at the grocery store, but that's pretty weak.

Head Shrink

Yesterday, as my family and I drove back home from our Easter weekend roadtrip, I noticed all the cars in my line shifting to go around somebody. As I approached the car that was slowing the flow of traffic, I noticed they had their hazard lights on. What’s the hazard, here? Were they hauling some sort of load? Were they driving on a flat tire? The speed limit is 70 in these parts, and this car was going no faster than 45.

Naturally, as I passed them on the left, I looked over to see what the “hazard” was.

Aha!

It was suddenly very clear to me.

Sitting in the driver’s seat of this slow-moving vehicle was a woman with a tiny, little head. She seemed to be average sized everywhere else, but her head was unnaturally small. I actually slowed my own car down a little bit just to try to study as much of the scene as I could.

“Honey, do you see this?” My wife looked up from her job of entertaining the baby in the backseat.

“Yep. She’s driving pretty slow.”

“I mean her head. Do you see her head?” Before I could get the question out, we had passed the pea-headed woman and her hazardous car. Dammit.

“I missed it,” my wife answered.

“Let me tell you why her hazards were on… She has a tiny head!”

“So does that mean she’s a danger to other drivers?” A good question from my wife.

“I don’t know. I would assume that a smaller head means a smaller brain. Do you think she put the hazard lights on by mistake? Maybe she has poor peripheral vision. You'd think it would be the other way around.”

My wife was done with our conversation, and was back to cooing at the baby. So I was left to consider this situation as I kept my hands at ten and two and found a nice spot in the center lane to settle in for awhile and think.

What's with the head? I also noticed that the tiny-headed woman with the hazard lights on was wearing huge, hoop earrings. What’s the point of that? Is that the same kind of thing as a bald man growing a thick beard? I wished I could have five minutes with this woman to ask her some more questions.

“Why are your hazard lights on?”

“Why were you driving so slow?”

“Can I teach you how to use cruise control? I can write down instructions if it’s too much information for you to store in that head.”

“Do you have to shop for hats in the children’s section?”

“Are those earrings really huge, or do they just look bigger dangling from your tiny ears?”

“Does every pillow feel like a super-sized enormous pillow to you? Is that awesome.”

“When you put on a t-shirt, do you ever accidentally slip your head through the armhole?”

If you have a tiny head, and I’ve offended you, I apologize. But while you’re here, maybe you could answer some of these questions.

Yes!

The Sanjaya train is a'rollin. Are you onboard? It's not too late.

I've just been informed this morning via electronic mail, that the Undaground Mom is officially part of the Sanjaya bandwagon. Mrs. Undaground is still resistant, but the baby and I are working on her.

Odds and Ends

Gators Again
Another day, another major national championship for my wife's gators. Congratulations Gators. Alligators are green, and so is envy.

In other college basketball news, it seems our coach (WVU's) is headed to Michigan. Thanks Coach Beilien for some very exciting years. Let's hope this is an opportunity for WVU to get the right guy in to take it to the next level (ahem.... Bob Huggins).

Opening Day
I took the day off Monday for opening day; a tradition I plan to continue every year with my son. I told Mrs. U about this yesterday and she's a little worried that I'll be pulling him out of school every year to watch a baseball game. My point is.... what will he remember when he's old and gray and looking back on his life? Will he remember a math test, or will he remember watching the Cubs lose with his Dad?

He's just 6 months old (as of Sunday), and already we have so much in common. After the Cubs loss, we both showed our displeasure by spitting up on our jerseys.

TV Tonight
If you're the voting kind, remember to vote for Sanjaya tonight on American Idol. Last Tuesday, as I left work, I reminded my coworkers "Vote for Sanjaya!". I'm convinced there is not one single phrase I could have shouted that would have offended more people at one time. Wow. People are very emotional about this and really want him gone.

Let's Go Mountaineers!

WVU plays Clemson tonight for the NIT national championship. 7pm on ESPN.

In the "other" lesson-known tournament, my wife's Florida Gators are once again in the Final Four and play Saturday.

Tonight, the Undaling will be crammed into his one and only WVU outfit (which consists of a too-tight 0-3 month onesie and a hat that falls down over half of his face).

Saturday, he'll wear one of his 19 Florida Gators outfits.

For the record, I'm a little disturbed by this inequity.

Got Milk?

Oops. I dropped the Undaling off at daycare this morning, but forgot to drop off the little cooler of pumped milk that Mrs. Undaground worked so hard to make. He'll have to drink formula today.

So in addition to my daily work responsibilities, I'm now responsible for the safekeeping of this milk so that it can be used at a later date.

The guy in the office next to me has a mini-fridge, so I've placed the valuable liquids in there.

Once, I left a bottle of Gatorade in his fridge, only to find that he had drank it in a moment of weakness when he clearly needed to replace some electrolytes.

There's a chance I'll walk into his office later and find him with a fresh, milk moustache.

Creepy.

Maybe I should leave him a note (or some chocolate chip cookies).

Announcement

If anybody wants to play Yahoo fantasy baseball, and can draft live online this Thursday night at 9pm, email me at theundaground@gmail.com. Act now before time runs out.

Dusting

It's dusty in here. I was a bad blogger last week. I want to write, I really do. I'm saving for a laptop now so I can blog at home again. It seems the addition of a child in our home has decreased the time I spend on the computer. I figure a laptop costs about $600, and so far I've saved somewhere between $25 and $30 in quarters, dimes and nickels. I'll get there, and soon I can live blog while watching reality television. Awesome.

This weekend, I kept an eye out for a good topic to write about on Monday. I was hoping somebody would annoy me enough in public to inspire me.

Nope. The closest I came was when a lady on a cellphone cut me off while I was pushing the stroller. But alas, we were on church grounds, so I don't really think it would be fair for me to go off on some diatribe about her. Jesus would be pissed. Even though this was clearly rude, and she nearly caused a stroller fender bender, I'll hold off, and hope I see her someday on less sacred ground.

We went to lunch Sunday and enjoyed some fried food as a family. I looked around the restaurant because that sort of people watching would surely give me a Monday topic.

Wow, check out the huge mole on his cheek! It's the size of a Susan B. Anthony dollar. This is great. Holy Mole-y. It's mol-eriffic. This will be fun. Nothing like a gigantic mole when you're on a hunt for blog material. Wait a sec. It's a kid. I was so distracted by the mole that it took me a minute to realize it belonged to a 7-year-old. I'm sorry, kid. I won't write about the mole, as much as I'd like to. And because you're a kid, I won't point it out to the others I'm dining with, even though my son is staring at it like it's a huge, brown, flourescent light. Must... not.... talk.... about.... mole.

MOLE!

So, bottom line is, I didn't find anything to write about. Sorry to disappoint. Vote for Sanjaya.

Vote for Sanjaya!

After giving it much thought, I'm officially with Howard Stern and votefortheworst.com on the Vote for Sanjaya bandwagon. I didn't actually pick up the phone and vote, nor will I, but I support the effort and encourage others to vote for him (if voting on reality shows is your thing).

The bottom line is that I watch the show for the show, not for the pop star that comes out the other end. I don't own a Ruben Studdard album, or an album from any of the others. I just want the best reality tv. For me, reality tv is best when there's tension, and nothing will create more tension than having Sanjaya stick around. He won't win, because there are too many American Idol fans, but I'd like for him to make it to the final three so I get good tv.

On another American Idol note, what the hell was with the crying girl on last night's show? That was weird.

Vote for Sanjaya! Will you join me?

Monday Milestones

The Undaling seems to hit all of his milestones on the weekends. This might be because Mrs. U and I spend more time concentrating on his physical, mental and emotional development. More likely, it's just that the daycare lady doesn't tell us stuff. Anyway, here are the milestones that the boy reached this past weekend:

Diapers size 3
How do you know when it's time to move up to the next sized diaper? Well, the answer is simple, and quite messy. Once there are at least two terrible incidents involving a breach of the diaper's borders and bodily fluids, it's time to move on. Why two incidents? Because one incident could just be a case of poor diaper fastening or some freak mishap. If it happens twice, throw out the onesie and move up to the next size. Needless to say, we had two messy incidents this weekend, and the Undaling is now a proud size 3.

Gorilla Sitting
Apparently, this is a child-development term. It happens when the baby sits on his own while resting some of his weight on his hands. Once he decides to move one of his hands, he topples over to that side like a Jenga sculpture. I assume that this means he'll soon be sitting up on his own. At this point, he has no idea that he's even doing this, as he doesn't seem to be surprised at all when he falls down (instead, he's probably a little disappointed in his parents for letting it happen).

More Rolling
The boy can now roll in all directions. The newest layer of development is rolling on the changing table. I guess we have to start strapping him down on the changing pad soon like a little baby frankenstein.

Raspberries
He's making his first fart noises with his mouth. This is very funny and he seems to enjoy it. We also enjoy it, but it's only a matter of time before he tries it with a mouthful of some colorful Gerber veggie. Goggles are an option for us, but they might freak him out a little.

High-Chair
Wow, I guess he had an eventful weekend. The boy sat in a high-chair at a restaurant using something called a "Floppy Seat".

Puffs
We gave him dissolving sweet potato puffs for the first time. One of them went too far back in his mouth and gave Mrs. U a scare, so we backed off. I then popped one in my mouth to see how long it takes for them to dissolve. In case anybody cares, it took about 20 seconds to dissolve in my mouth. Factoring in the excess baby saliva, I estimate that it takes 15-18 seconds for it to dissolve in his mouth. We'll try these again soon. Maybe next weekend.

Call Me a Hopeless Romantic

The other night, Mrs. Undaground was toiling away in the kitchen, making us turkey tacos. I always appreciate when she makes dinner, and tacos are a special treat since they involve both cheese and sour cream (two of the 'superfoods' on my official list). To show my appreciation, I like to saunter into the kitchen while Mrs. U is cooking and give her a kiss.

When the time was right, I paused tivo and set down my tumbler of diet black cherry soda. I popped up from the couch and entered the kitchen. There she was, browning the lean turkey in a pan over the stove. My eyes darted over to the counter, and I saw the shredded cheese and sour cream. What a dinner! What a wife!

I leaned over her to kiss the top of her head. This is sometimes an easy target for me because of our considerable height difference. Just as my lips met her bouncy, conditioned hair, the diet black cherry soda spoke. Yes, as my mouth touched my wife's noggin, I burped. Sure, it was a closed-mouth burp, but for some reason it still made a sound, like a small chainsaw running inside a wooden box. It was muffled, but not enough. Quickly, I tried to recover and kept my face planted on the top of her head. In order to compensate for my faux pas, I made a louder kissing noise than I normally would (almost as if I was trying to call a cat).

I pulled back, and my wife slowly turned and looked up at me. I doubt she even noticed the burp, what with all the burping that's been going on in my house lately. Much of our time over the past 5 months has been spent trying to encourage them, not suppress them. Our eyes met and stayed locked for an extra beat. I was waiting for her to say something, but she didn't, so I filled the silence with my own words.

"Mmmm. Tacos. Thanks so much, baby, for making dinner. I love you."

She looked a little confused, as if a tape of the past minute was playing back in her head. Finally, she spoke.

"Did you just burp in my hair?"

"Yea, sorry. That wasn't my original intent."

I really should drink more water.

Daytime Entertainment

Life has certainly changed over the past 5 and a half months. Mrs. Undaground and I have gone from painting the town red to painting the nursery green. Our weekends once consisted of navigating our way through the seedy nightlife of the bar and movie scene. Now, we find ourselves seeking out daytime entertainment, so that our son has an opportunity to see some seedy people of his own.

Over the past four weekends, we've chosen some family-friendly activities to fill our time and entertain the Undaling.

He loves looking around at things, so I'm not sure how much he's actually absorbing, but I hope he someday appreciates our enthusiasm through this transition.

Here are some of the activities we've participated in recently, and how the Undaling enjoyed them.

Garlic Festival. The Undaling posed for photos much of this day. My father-in-law was in town, so it was a two-camera shoot. The boy also practiced his grimace, each time Daddy breathed on him with garlic breath. He has a very polished, impressive grimace and I am proud of him.

Street Painting Festival. More posing for pictures. I was unable to attend, but reports say he enjoyed himself. I'm a little worried that it will take him awhile to get over the confusion this festival caused. For 5 months, he's been going through life thinking streets are for cars. Now, he thinks that it's perfectly acceptable to paint a pretty picture in the middle of the road. Note to self: Explain this to him once he's old enough to understand.

Zoo. The Undaling spent most of the two hours at the zoo staring at his feet. I'm sure we could have accomplished this in our own living room, but it was nice to get some fresh air and perhaps he liked the way the sunlight hit his feet. He did like the peacocks, though, which is ironic since Mrs. U and I are fans of NBC programs such as Heroes, The Office, Scrubs and 30 Rock.

Sea Turtle Day at the Nature Center. We only actually saw one sea turtle that day, but I'm not sure the Undaling was able to see it. On the way out, they were revealing their "mascot", which was a man in a sea turtle costume. Both the boy and I were a little creeped out by this creature. The highlight of the day for the baby was most likely drinking from a bottle in a butterfly garden. Nothing says peaceful like butterflies and gas bubbles.

Public Park. The boy discovered the wonders of sand, and how much fun it is for kids to play with dirt. Someday soon, he'll be running all over the place like the older kids, and I'll chase him around like the other parents. The people watching is tremendous here. I know that I'll be in those parents shoes someday, but I'll savor the time I have to laugh at them as they run after their kids making sure they have a soft spot to land... once they fall.

Happy Daylight Savings, by the way. Hope nobody was late for work today. Personally, I'm happy that I can wear my sunglasses at night again.

50 States

Can you name all 50 states in 10 minutes? Go here to play.

You must spell them correctly in order to get credit. Here's a freebie: Utah.

Chinese New Year

With little fanfare here in South Florida, the Chinese New Year came and went on Feb 18. I actually fell asleep before midnight that night, so I'll have to save the party hats and noisemakers until next year, the year of the Earth Rat.

For anybody keeping track at home, this is the Year of the Pig. I'm still writing the Year of the Dog on all my checks. (see below)

I will celebrate the year of the pig by eating more bacon than ever before. During the year of the dog, we replaced Wrigley's Kibbles and Bits Original Flavor with Kibbles and Bits Meaty. I'm sure that was a treat for her and I haven't had the heart yet to tell her that her Chinese year is over. She's probably getting the hint, though, since my wife and I pay little attention to her these days. In our house, it's most definitely the year of the baby.

This is a David Letterman joke that he does every year.