Hey Little Man,

Now in the past I have written, what some would call, mushy stuff about you. This post will not be of that nature. Why? Well, because not only are you a sweet little boy, you also have a side to you that does not lend itself to mush.

For example, what is up with the “I can’t possibly take a crap for a few days” stuff? Huh? I mean, one day you’re as regular as can be and the next thing we know we haven’t seen a poopy diaper from you in a long while. I see that you are uncomfortable. Believe me, anyone can see that. And the gas? Boy you could keep the national economy going with the amount of gas you’re producing. Now, there is no “How-to-be-a-father handbook” (I think it was lost with the user manual in the Greatest American Hero, lying forever on a tiny pebble in L.A.) but if there was one, I’m sure it would mention that us dads have to do some things that we wouldn’t dream of doing at any time in our lives. Rubbing a Q-Tip coated with vasoline around your anus is something I never thought I’d be doing, but none-the-less, here we are. So far? No poop. Grunting? Yes, plenty of that. Step two is the Prune Juice and that will be coming shortly. After that, you don’t even want to know what Step 3 is Boy. Trust me on that.

And did I mention that you’re five months old today? Yep. Five months and youand your sister are still alive. More amazingly, your mommy and I are still alive too. You two can be a handful! You’d think in that five months that I would have settled on a cool nickname for you. In fact, I had dreams of calling you and your sister some cute Internet nickname here on the blog. It hasn’t happened. Why? Because the only nicknames that seem to come out of my mouth for you are “Chunky Monkey” (sometimes shortened to Chunky Monk, or Chunk, or Monk) and the less than imaginative, “Boy.” I don’t call your sister “Girl” but Boy seems to be a fitting nickname for you. Because, you are most certainly a boy. And someday I imagine you won’t be so chunky and then where would we be with the nickname?

So how are you so much a “boy”, you ask? Well, for one, you have a mischevious sense of humor Boy. As I struggle to get you and your sister to nap and your sister is having one her “I’m tired but there’s no way I’m going to sleep that easily” coniption fits, I look over at you and you’re smiling at me behind that big blue binky. This smile, I’m certain, says “Dad, you’re so frickin’ screwed.” And then to prove your point, as soon as I get your sister to sleep, you start your own little fit. Thanks. Thanks for that. You also like to rough house. You like to be “tossed” into the air and you like to tumble around on the bed. You laugh alot when we do this. And your laugh? Such a boy laugh. It’s a grunt-like laugh that is almost like Beavis (or is it Butthead?) but much cuter. And finally, remember the gas emissions that I mentioned before? Well, you seem to think it’s pretty funny whenever you lay a big one. You get a big grin. I swear I did not teach you this (at least I swear to your mother that I did not teach you this). Yes, you are certainly a boy.

You’ve had some more milestones recently too. You’re still not rolling over regularly but when you do, you pull your knees together and your butt raises up almost like you’re about to shoot out of the starting blocks. It seems once you build up some upper body strength, you’ll be crawling around, chasing the kitty and showing daddy all the places he hadn’t thought to baby-proof.

If you’ve been paying attention, you’ll notice that I’m the one staying with you and your sister the past couple of weeks during the day. A couple of days ago I couldn’t stand it any longer and packed you and your sister up and away we went. We went to a place where any father who hasn’t seen the light of day in two weeks would go - to Target. Hey, stop your laughing. Target is where you will go shopping for the next 18 years of your life. Any more laughing out of you on the subject and we’re buying your entire senior year wardrobe at Walmart.

Anyway, I was talking about going out. Whenever we go out, you don’t like to sleep. There’s too much to see and this trip was no different. While your sister dozed you kept looking all around. After Target, Daddy felt pretty darn confident and off we went to Starbucks. But here’s where things got difficult. I had just ordered my first Egg Nog Latte of the holiday season (OMG, soooo good) when you went ballistic. It was a terrified cry that I had never heard before. Well, now everyone in that shopping center has heard it because you wouldn’t stop. Not for your binky, not for your stuffed monkey, not for the $20 I tried to hand you. NOTHING - until I unstrapped you and picked you up. Then, you clung to me like a little monkey, burying your head into my neck. While you looked extremely upset, this little maneuver made me look pretty darn good. So keep doing that - making me look like the sensitive father. Nice going dude.

Did I mention that you’re already showing the signs of being a pretty cool “big” brother? You are. Over the past month you and your sister have grown more and more interested in each other. You like to reach out and touch her whenever she is near. Occasionally that “touch” turns into a pinch so we’ll have to watch that. But, it looks like your sister is going to be pretty darn good-looking as she gets older and we’ll have to beat off the suitors with a stick (Note to self: Get a really big stick) so you’ll really need to step up the “big brother” thing then. I’m counting on you.

Overall, you’re pretty cool to be around. I do have one request, however. This 4:00 a.m. waking up thing? Yeah, stop that please. At first it was your nose and I was sympathetic because my genetic pool was most likely responsible for that. Now it appears to be gas that is trapped way up inside you. I come in to find you writhing in pain, unable to expel said gas (and it must be said that this does not come from MY genetic pool. I have no problem expelling gas). Let me just tell you this - at no other time in your life will farting seem cute. Take advantage of this! You’re missing a golden opportunity because you’re only a baby for so long. Trust me on this.

So, that’s you in a nutshell. I’m pretty glad I get to be your daddy. You’re everything in a son a guy could ask for (except that 4:00 a.m. waking thing). And, before I get too mushy on this post, let me just say… I love you, dude.

JT and Daddy