Bite Me.

Day 4 of Roz's trip to LA, 3 more to go. Longest Coleman has been separated from his mama. He misses her a lot. He still really has no sense of time, so "she'll be back in a week" means NOTHING! His phrase for something that's happened in the past is "remember when you took me to the park last year." If it was yesterday or last week, to him it was last year. School won't start until Monday. I've tried to fill the days with stuff besides TV. Today was the toughest day. He was just cranky, cranky, cranky. I'm really good at breaking him out of his "mood." Biting works really well. I just pick up an arm or a leg and I just come at him with my teeth. He's laughing so hard he can't stand up.

Yes We Can

Look at these boys, Coleman and his buddy Delcan, first picture maybe at 9 months. The 2nd one at 4 years.
This is the future of America folks. Deal with it.

We are a part of the Rhythm Nation

My almost 4 year old son has no rhythm and it's more troubling to me than perhaps it should be. To watch his little head bop from side to side to a beat of his own creation is funny, sweet and annoying. Yes I'm stereotyping, black people and rhythm and all that, but he's a black boy who is one day gonna be a black man and although I'm sure we'll still be doing the electric slide, which is somewhat forgiving to the uncoordinated, there will be other new dances. And in order not to be a social outcast at weddings, birthday celebrations, school dances and basement parties he's going to need to learn how to move to the beat.

He's young, I don't need to worry.
He'll get it. Right?

Testing my patience

I feel like I'm slowly being dragged into this vortex I swore I would never be a part of. The damn school dance.

So Roz called me in a state, "I talked to so and so, so and so said that her son is in so and so school and that he loves it and she loves it and it would be a perfect school for Coleman." So and so school is private. In order to get him into so and so school, he has to be tested. Really! For Kindergarten!! They've made it easier, you used to have to test at each school, but now its just one test and you can send the results to as many schools as you like. This new system has a double edged sword, because if you're kid does lousy on the test, he's marked till he retires from the chicken plucking factory.

Did I mention the test is $460?

Damn you so and so.

Coleman took the test, it'll be 4 weeks before we get the results. Roz took him to the testing facility, Coleman was ushered into a room by young bouncy Traci with and I. I only mention this because there was a little girl there at the same time waiting to be tested and her tester was Dr. So and So. Why didn't we get a doctor instead of a camp counselor? Does Traci with an I have the skills to recognize my sons unearthed genius. Will Traci with an I prevent my son from getting into school so and so because she fails to see the sophistication in a little boy laughing uncontrollably every time he says the word poopy. (OK, I'm laughing now, poopy is a funny word.)

Damn you so and so.

One hour and did I mention it was $460 later - Coleman emerged from the room. What did Coleman remember from his time with Traci? He told us that he told her that "Declan's diaper exploded and baby Hoyt doesn't know how to share." Gifted and talented program here we come.

Before I mislead you, let me tell you Coleman is easily one of smartest kids in his circle. His powers of observation astound us and his vocabulary is off the chain. But at almost 4 he is very particular about when and where he will share his gifts. And it is almost NEVER when we need him to.

Damn you so and so.

A Star is Born

Meet Latka. Coleman put on a pair of my flip flops, took a purse of Roz's and slung it over his shoulder, he dropped his voice an octave and when we asked him who he was, he said his name was Latka. Latka was a client who was here for his acting session with Roz.
Roz asked Latka if he would be up for an interview, he agreed -

After that Latka joined us for dinner and about half way through, he dropped his fork and I handed it to him, he said "thank you daddy," realizing he dropped character and called me daddy he said "oh Coleman is back."

Our dream for Coleman to be a banker/lawyer/Beverly Hills OB-GYN gets dimmer every day.

Seeing the future

So my two year old nephew baby Hoyt says Obama, every time he seems him on TV. My sis and bro n law taught him to do that. We were a little embarrassed because we hadn't taught Coleman who Obama is. Basically if it wasn't on the Noggin Channel (commercial free channel for preschool kids) Coleman didn't know about it. So I finally decided to introduce Coleman to Obama, fortunately it was the week he went to the middle east and Europe so he was on TV a lot. "When you see that guy on TV, you say Obama." He got the hang of it very quickly. But I never noticed how many 40 something short haired black men there were on TV, mostly reporters, cause Coleman mistook a couple of them for Obama. He's got it straight now. Really didn't take him that long. "OBAMA." "Good boy."

I'm such a political junkie. I'm tuned into every Sunday morning political show, Meet the Press (God speed Tim Russert,) Mclaughin Group, This Week with George Stephanapolous, Chris Matthews, I watch them all, even racist Fox (I believe you have to know what the enemy is saying.) I'm a little surprised at myself for taking so long to introduce him to Obama. I guess a little or big part of me is not ready to accept that America is ready to accept that this black man (yes he's black y'all) should be our next President. I just feel like everyone is waiting for the other shoe to drop. He's too perfect, he's too smart, he's too well liked, he's too educated, he's too unflappable, his wife is all of the above, his children are gorgeous. We need another four years of stupid is as stupid does.

I feel like people are waiting for the excuse not to vote for him.

He's too young - yes by all means lets elect a 72 year old man who can't lift his arms and whose medical file from only the past two years is 1200 pages.

He's an elitist - yes by all means lets elect a man with 7 homes and a private jet.

I'm not gonna worry any more. Every night, the six o'clock news leads off with a story about a black man. A black who didn't kill or rob or rape. He simply wants to change the world. That's the future.

Happy Fathers Day

Coleman wanted to get me a Dinosaur for Father's Day. It's the same thing he wanted to get Roz for Mother's Day. I got a shoulder bag to carry my laptop. Coleman calls it my man purse. "Don't forget your man purse daddy."

Twins

People say we look just alike. I don't know what the heck they're talking about.

blah, blah, blah

Parent teacher conference. - "We love Coleman, we don't understand what he's saying. We understand 2 out of every 30 words. Also you may want to get his hearing checked, we call him and call him, sometimes he doesn't respond."

That's easy I say, nothing wrong with his hearing, he's just ignoring you till you say something interesting. 30 words? Glad to know he's talking up a storm, even if it is apparently gibberish.

It was a hard thing to hear, that your son is not hearing, but it turned out to be something. Those damn ear infections, the ones he's been getting off and on his whole life, well apparently it did more damage than we thought. We took him to an ENT specialist. Doctor Arrogant says it's like Coleman is listening under water, the amount of fluid in his ears was causing up to a 40 percent hearing loss. So no wonder his speech was bad. The solution - ear tubes. Doctor Arrogant says it's a must, he's done the surgery hundreds of times, it only takes 5 minutes, he'll be better almost immediately.

Dr. Arrogant was right. Coleman had the surgery at 8am, it was over at 8:15am, we were at breakfast and he was back to normal by 10:30am. That afternoon on the subway, he had to cover his ears, the train was so loud. The only residual from the surgery - he can't get his ears wet or it will damage the tubes, so for baths and swimming and such, he has to wear this headband and ear plugs. He'll be sportin this look until he outgrows the ear tubes, 6 months to a year, give or take. Makes him look like Esther Williams (am I dating myself or what!) But he took to it without fuss.

Got Jokes

I can't believe how long it's been since I blogged. Last time is when Coleman just turned 3, he's 3 and a half now.
So much has happened in 6 months, ear surgery, speech class, growth spurts, language explosion, he seems to comprehend so much, even subtle nuances of conversation. And jokes, he's telling jokes.
Knock, Knock
Who's There?
Booty?
Booty who?
Booty and tooty. Not that funny but cute.
It's followed by hysterical laughter. And then a bow. Yes he's learned to bow - deep, theatrical, bend at the waste, arms out, bows. Definitely gets that from his mother.

Petri Dish

Here is Coleman with his best buddy Declan. Coleman has a collection of snot at the base of his nose. I'm sure a couple of days after this picture, Declan had a collection of snot at the end of his nose.

Let me tell you something about kids and germs. In the 3 weeks since Coleman started preschool he has had a cold, fever, chest congestion, runny nose, diahrrea, a febrile seizure (4am emergency room vistit, not fun but he's fine) and an ear infection in both ears.

Roz has had chest congestion, sinus infection, a really bad cough and some "female problem" that she won't tell me about.

I have had chest congestion, bronchialitis (the younger cousin to bronchitis), runny nose, fever, a root canal and a heel spur.

I probably can't blame the kids for the heel spur or possibly the root canal, but how do we really know for sure.

Send in the Clowns

Yeah we hired a clown!! I feel like such a sellout. First we weren't even gonna have a party for Coleman's 3rd birthday. He had cupcakes at his preschool with the entire class. Then we took him on a special trip to a farm where he had his first pony ride. That shoulda been enough. But for some reason, and I can't even blame Roz for this I felt it as well, we decided we needed to do more. So we planned a party - for Saturday - it was already Wednesday.

It was a great party. The genius of last minute planning is that lots of invited people had plans already, so there weren't too many kids.

So the clown shows up about an hour into the party. We introduced Bingo the Clown to everyone.
"Coleman, Bingo is here for your party."
Coleman took him in for a moment. "Why are you dressed like that?"
"He's here for your party."
"I know, but why is he dressed like that?" It was a very funny moment.

It was also a very telling moment. You dress them and undress your kids everyday, sometimes a few times a day and you think they aren't paying attention, but he knew the clothes that clown was wearing was different from the clothes everyone else was wearing. Coleman is learning how to recognize and verbalize things that are out of the norm. Clothing is obvious thing to learn. So many things aren't that obvious.

A noose hanging from a tree. A taxi passing you by on the street. Hanging chad.

Thank God for now it's just clowns.

Terrible Two's

It's almost over. The terrible two's. Coleman turns 3 on Wednesday.
Truthfully it really wasn't that terrible, and it probably really isn't over. Coleman is sleeping through the night - for the most part.
He's potty trained - for the most part.
He's a really good talker and communicator - for the most part.
Tantrums are few - for the most part - you get the point, we're in a really good place - for the most part.

Now we're getting the pressure, sometimes light, sometimes full court - When are you having another???????????

In theory, yes, absolutely I want more, maybe just one more. Almost everyone we know has popped out or is about to pop out the 2nd one.
"It's so much easier the 2nd time." "He'll have a playmate." "The time will fly by."
That's the crap we hear from those parents with two or more. I can see right through them, I can see through the bags underneath their eyes, I can see through the clenched teeth.

I can see the truth.

It's not easier, you're just more beat down, so you're not as quick to respond like you did for the first one.
Playmate - yeah right, they'll play in between fights and the fights last longer than playtime.

I made a list of pro's and con's.
Con's:
money,
time,
2 or 3 more years of no sleep,
we're not that young,
it may not be as easy this time,
physically,
mentally,
spiritually.

Pro's: Look at that picture.

Park It

I hate the park. It's soooo boring. Let's face it, it's not that fun if you're an adult. But I know how important it is for Coleman, especially now that Summer is coming to and end. I can't believe sometimes how much fun he has. Up the slide, down the slide, up the ladder, down the ladder, through the sprinklers and again and again and again and again. And I just watch. I can't work, I have to keep an eye on Coleman. Any conversation I have with equally bored parents, we always have one eye on each other, the other on our kids.

Chasing pigeons. That's huge fun for Coleman - chasing pigeons. He just loves to run after them and chase them and chase them until they fly out of the park.

I have to remind myself to treasure these moments. I really am fortunate that my schedule allows me to share these times. He's almost 3 and sooner than I know it, I won't be allowed within a 3 mile radius of him. So I'll keep going to the park, but damn it's boring.

Killer Poodle

It's late night, really late, 3am. Bloomingdale's shoe department. All the displays have been pushed back. Martha Stewart takes one more look around, everything is ready, she gives the go ahead nod to Christiane Amanpour, who taps a dinner bell.

From out of the racks of misses and junior wear, the ladies emerge. They all settle on either side of the runway. Naomi Campbell adjusts her ankle monitor. Madeleine Albright and Queen Latifah eat nachos off the same plate. Sheryl Crow takes out her guitar, "all I wanna do is have some fun." The Jimmy Choos, the Manolo Blahniks and the Christian Loboutins click, clack to the the beat. Diana Ross kindly puts her hair in a bun, so Natalie Portman can see, Natalie puts her scissors away. Lil Kim and Barbara Walters exchange business cards.

Lights up on the runway. Sheryl Crow stops strumming her guitar.

Kate Moss struts from behind the curtain, not far behind her without a leash is her silky terrier, Bon Bon. The ladies give Bon Bon rousing applause, Bon Bon responds in kind, yelping and yapping and chasing her tail. Bon Bon loves the spotlight. Kate Moss stops at the end of the runway. Bon Bon runs and leaps into her arms. They take a bow.

The lights dim. Spotlight Up.

Serena and Venus Williams emerge from behind the curtain. Serena is carrying a Luis Vuitton Pet Carrier, she sets it on the ground. Venus unzips the bag, she takes out a toy poodle. The most beautiful toy poodle you've ever seen, the color of burnt caramel. Her name - Sweet Tea.

Dolly Parton tosses hundred dollar bills onto the runway. Wynona Ryder covers one of the fallen c-notes with her Prada slingback.

Serena picks up Sweet Tea, stares into the doggie's now bloodshot eyes - "make mama proud." Serena hands Sweet Tea to Venus. "You my bitch?" Sweet Tea growls love as foam pours from her jowls into the crevices of her diamond studded collar. Venus sets her down, Sweet Tea surveys the room, she locks in on Bon Bon.

Christiane Amampour rings the dinner bell again.

Bon Bon leaps from Kate's arms, she gallops down the runway. Sweet Tea is calm, she walks in only a couple of steps. Bon Bon leaps into the air, straight at and into the powerful jaws of Sweet Tea.

It's over. Sweet Tea drags her prey into her Louis Vuitton carrier case. What happens in that case - you don't even want to know!

Martha Stewart collects winnings from the ladies.

I wasn't sure how to weigh in on this whole Michael Vic, dog fighting thing. People want to blame hip/hop, celebrity, poverty, weatlth, race.

My wife just read this blog, she doesn't understand it. She wants to know what it has to do with her or Coleman. My point is dog-fighting, cock fighting, country invading are all committed by the boys we raise. Our girls don't do stuff like that.

The first time someone wants to take Coleman to a dog fight, I don't want his machismo to take over. The reason there's no underground women's dog fighting ring sponsored by Bloomingdale's is because its STUPID.

Mexican Standoff

Most if not all parents have experienced nights like this. For whatever reason, Coleman just kept getting up and coming out of the room, "I want juice." We give him juice. Put him back to bed.

A little while later, he comes out, "Put the covers on me please." March him back to his bed, cover him up, start to leave. "I want the other blanket, I want two blankets." Cover him up with both blankets, leave.

A little while later, out of his bed again, "It's hot." March him back to his bed, cover him with one blanket.

A little while later, "I want milk." We give him milk.

A little while later, "I gotta poop." Take him to the potty, he sits there for a while, no poop. March him back to bed.

This nonsense continues for a while, by the time he completely settles down it's like 2am.

He then has the audacity to get up early, 2 hours before his normal wake time, like 6am. He climbs into bed with us. We try to ignore him, if we don't move, maybe he'll just sniff us and go back to sleep. No good. He's bright eyed, bushy tailed and ready for action.

Then the question becomes - Who is gonna get up and entertain him and let the other one sleep? Of course we're both waiting for the other one to make the grand sacrifice - no such gesture is being offered.

We both hunker down, neither one of us is sleeping but we're pretending like we are. She knows I'm not sleeping, because I'm not snoring. I know she's not sleeping because all I hear is
"Stop it."
"Don't do that."
Coleman is pulling her hair, putting his fingers in her nose, sitting on her head. Doing anything to get her attention.

If this continues, neither of us will get any sleep. I get up, lead him out the room, we get some milk. I turn on the TV, turn to NOGGIN (great channel, no commercials, designed for preschoolers, best show is The Backyardigans.) I lie down on the couch, he lies down next to me, drinking his beverage. Enjoying his morning television.

Mommy gets to go back to sleep - Daddy has made the grand sacrifice - AGAIN!! (It's my blog)

There Goes My Boy

Coleman takes to things so effortlessly. My mom came to pick him up to spend the night with her. I woke Coleman up from his nap, like many he is quite unsociable for the first few minutes. To help pull him out of the drowsies, I often entice him with an "Icee that we made." We bought from IKEA one of those ice trays, you pour juice in, put a stick in it, a few hours later you have a frozen pop sickle. Coleman calls them "Icee that we made."

I'm putting on fresh clothes, here come the questions.
"Where are we going daddy?"
"You're going to Grandma's house."
"I'm going to Grandma's house?" (He's a repeater.)
"Yes Grandma's house."
"Otay." "Why I going there?"
"It's a special treat."
"It's a special treat?"
"Yes a special treat."
"Otay." "You coming daddy?"
"No I'm not coming."
"You not coming?"
"No daddy's not coming."
"Otay." "Mama coming?"
"No mama's not coming."
"Mama's not coming?"
"No she's not."
"Otay." .... "Daddy?"
"Put your sweatshirt on."
"Put my sweatshirt on?"
"It's chilly outside."
"It's chilly outside?"
"Yes it's chilly outside."
"Daddy, what is chilly outside."
"Means it's cold outside."
"It's cold outside?"
"Yes it's cold outside." I strap him into the stroller.
"Coleman, I got something for you."
"For me daddy, you got something for me?"
"Yes."
"What is it daddy?"
I have a stash of lollipops from Commerce Bank (they give them away for free) I stick one in his sweatshirt pocket. "Save this for the ride to Grandma's house."
"For me daddy, that's for me?"
"Yes for you."
"Thanks daddy."
"Your welcome."
"Bye daddy."
"Bye, bye Coleman."
"Daddy kiss." I give him a kiss.
"Daddy hug." I give him a hug.
"Bye daddy."

I feel very lucky.

Endorsement Deal

Don't you think the Sesame Street people should give Coleman an endorsement deal?

I want to secure his millions before he gets caught running an illegal dog fighting ring.

All Judgemental

I'm noticing how other people parent their kids and I'm feeling all judgemental.

"How could they let their child talk to them like that?"

"Don't pick him up, let him cry." "Pick her up, don't just let her cry."

I gotta back away from the judgment, I know it'll come back to haunt me. But what are you supposed to do when you see an overweight 5 year old walking down the street eating an double scoop ice cream cone and drinking a Coke?

It's a tricky thing these days to discipline your child in public. We were in the park the other day and Coleman was picking up balls and tossing them over a fence. From across the park I yelled at him to stop. He kept going. I made my "mad daddy" march across the playground, he quickened his pace, getting a few more balls over the fence (giggling, laughing, having a great time.) As I got closer he saw I had my "mad daddy" face on. (In the old days, there would have been a slap or two across his bare legs - we can't do that anymore.)
So I got close, in my "mad daddy" whisper.
"I told you to stop, and when I tell you to stop, you stop."
I picked him up and dropped him on the bench for a time out.

I turned around, all eyes were on me. I walked back across the playground and resumed normal conversation. They were all a bit uncomfortable. After a sufficient time out, from across the park I told Coleman to come here. He walked across.
"What do you have to say?"
"Sorry daddy."
"When I tell you to stop, you stop."
"Yes daddy."
"Go play."
He skipped off, the time out already a distant memory.

There were about five mommies/babysitters there. I know they were judging me.

Coleman for President

Last year Harold Ford, a black man running for Senator in Tennessee, was on the verge of winning. Two weeks before the election, a TV ad appeared, a young white actress playing the stereotype of a “dumb blonde” talked about meeting Ford, a 36-year-old bachelor, “at a Playboy party.” At the end of the ad, she winks and says to the camera, “Harold — call me.” He lost the race. Just a couple of weeks ago, a video surfaced on You Tube of this very lovely young white girl singing "I got a crush on Obama. The whole black man, white woman thing is a very touchy subject. I blame OJ. Hopefully when Coleman runs for President, this won't be an issue. I want to get all the skeletons out of his closet now.