toby of the day, great day for seals

Toby likes the beach. I like the beach. Jon, well, Jon does not like the beach. I think it’s the sand, and how it’s all sandy, and as I’ve written previously, the beaches here are a little chilly, so while at other beaches you can rinse the sand off in the ocean, that’s not really an option that we have. In any case, because toby and I are beach supporters, we continually try to win Jon to our side. So recently we drove to one a little south of pacifica. It was a warm and sunny day. From the parking area, we walked past a field of wildflowers, and jon and I remarked how we should really get ourselves a car so we can do this whole nature thing more often. The sand was warm, the ocean waves big and sonorous. And as we searched for a place to settle down we discovered that the beach was, well, it was full of dead animals. The first spot where we almost tossed our blanket was apparently devoid of people because of a dead seal decaying a few feet away. And the second spot was available because of a dead seagull. But, third time is the charm, and we found ourselves a reasonably safe spot, though we suggested to toby that he might not want to dig too deep. Which turned out not to be a problem as he was far more excited about a little pool of runoff from the nearby hills, so we took turns standing in the frigid water while he splashed around. And for a brief moment, we were a happy beach-going family. But then it came time to head home. The last time toby went in the ocean was the day I forgot to pack him a change of clothes so we ended up dressing him in a sweatshirt and a nursing cover. This time, I packed him a week’s wardrobe, but forgot an extra diaper. So we dried him off, and crossed our fingers. As we quickly made our way back to the car, we peeked back over our shoulders to see the sun glistening off the ocean, a few small children splashing in the stream where toby had been playing, and, just a little ways upstream, prostrate against the bank and dangling it’s foot in the water, a dead bird. A cormorant I think. Regardless, Jon frowned. A lot. While we whisked toby home and into a diaper without incident, I think the entire day was a bit of a setback to our pro-beach propaganda. If only jon was a taxidermist or pinnipedieologist, then he might have thought it was the best day at the beach ever. although, on the other hand, I must say I feel very fortunate that I am not married to someone who gets excited about dead, decaying seals. Sigh. I guess at least he enjoyed the wildflowers.

toby of the day, his tombstone will say 'also ran'

The other day toby came home saying what sounded like “payback nick” over and over again. I can only assume that he must have made some bad bets at the track and is now in over his head. Of course, I warned him about this sort of thing, but he said he had it under control, so what can you do. I guess when they break his kneecaps that’ll teach him a lesson. Sometimes kids just have to learn the hard way.

Update: turns out he was just learning to sing 'nick nack paddywack'. it's amazing really, I had no idea that song was about bookies.

toby of the day, what's so wrong with a little green space?

In the outer sunset, it seems that the most popular landscaping style, aside from painting the concrete in front of the house green, is to surround indigenous shrubs and small plants with rocks. While I applaud this approach for its simplicity and water saving potential, it means that the 2 block walk from the train to the new daycare is like a trek through a minefield, except that instead of trying to avoid the mines, toby is collecting as many of them as he can press against his little chest and still walk. My newest strategy is to throw a rock ahead of us and convince him to race me to it. This usually works for at least a block or so to keep him on the sidewalk, and holding only a minimal quantity of rocks that he will add to our own growing rock garden at the entrance to our apartment. Then I can just carry him, albeit kicking and screaming, that last block. I guess this is why people use strollers, if nothing else it means you can transport larger rocks.

toby of the day, boys: don't cry, like trucks

The next day we continued to avoid contaminating people we know with hoof and horn disease and instead went to the beach. Ahh, what a lovely way to spend a spring afternoon you might say, probably as you imagine people in swimming trunks, warming themselves under the sun and romping in the surf. But that is not our beach. I would like to suggest that our beach is more like how you might imagine a beach in, say, Denmark. Except that I have been to a beach in Denmark, and it was hot and full of very athletic and scantily clad beach volleyball players. And again, that is not our beach. Our beach is one where I didn’t want to take off my shoes because my feet were already cold. Our beach is one where I was pretty sure the wind was going to blow off my wool hat. Sure sometimes it can be warm enough for the wearing of, say, a light sweater, when you make it there in the few hours after the sun has heated up the sand but before the fog arrives. But this was most certainly not one of those days. Consequently, Toby seemed somewhat nonplussed by our beachcombing, and was even becoming a little irritable about the wind burn on his face. That is, until we rounded a bend and snuck up on a digging truck. It turns out that Toby is boy and therefore in love with a wide range of construction vehicles, most of which he refers to as digging trucks. In this case it was a bulldozer and it was parked on one of the paths through the dunes leading off the beach. Toby tried to convince us to drive away in it, but we thought better of that suggestion, mostly because we figured it would not maneuver well in a high-speed chase. That, and we needed to get to the park chalet for a beer, and there isn’t much parking over there, especially not for a stolen bulldozer.

toby of the day, a cow says

A couple months ago we transitioned toby into his new daycare. As a special welcome, one of the children contracted hand, foot, and mouth disease which the interweb was quick to point out is in no way related to hoof and mouth disease, although we’ve had a difficult time not referring to it as that. In any case, hand foot and mouth is a pretty contagious virus similar to the chicken pox that results in small blisters on, yes you guessed it, the hands and feet, and inside the mouth of the kids that get it. The first case at the daycare was discovered on a Saturday and by midweek the following week kids were dropping like flies. Little blistered, feverish flies. Toby lasted most of the week, but by Friday, he too had a couple of blisters. Fortunately, his version never really amounted to much. Still, we tried to least avoid contaminating people that we know, so we spent Saturday morning busily infecting strangers at the farmers market. We had a close call when we ran into toby’s friend jonah and his family and I imagined having to explain myself as I slapped away jonah’s hand as he went to give toby a high five or something. But luckily toby decided to act shy, preferring to nuzzle his face into my chest, rather than run over and hug, drool on, or otherwise shower jonah with infection. Which meant we managed to escape after some brief chit-chat and quickly wandered away to wipe our hands on some heirloom lettuce.

toby of the day, that's not a lion

toby likes fruits. sure, he likes other foods too, he eats a reasonably balanced diet, full of meat, starch, tofu and the occasional vegetable. but he really likes fruits. really likes them. here we tried to capture what we mean by that. of course, as demonstration of the heisenberg uncertainty principle*, as soon as we pull out the camera, we destroy his momentum, turning him into a tame and principled fruit eater. However, by the second video, he's back on track, managing to stuff almost and entire mango into his little mouth. and just so we're clear, the place mat that he's naming animals on has been washed so many times it resembles the walls of a romanesque church in some unheard of spanish town, the kind where the murals on the wall could be paintings of saint christopher, or they could be paintings of a kangaroo wearing a tutu and a man about town hat, which admittedly has always been my preferred interpretation of those murals. in any case, it makes it all the more fun to watch toby try to decipher what's in the picture. Enjoy!

*I will point out that wikipedia tells me I should really call it the "observer effect", but that sounds lame and lacks the ironic grandiosity which I'm trying to convey, so I'm sticking with heisenberg, wikipedia be damned.

toby of the day, let's pretz!

Apparently it is traditional in japan to celebrate hanami or the arrival of spring, and the associated blooming of cherry trees, by drinking sake under those flowering trees until your necktie ends up around your head. This year we had our own hanami celebration, replete with blooming trees, sake, revelers, and even a necktie. The tie belonged to Jon and while it did not end up around his head, I believe that is only because at the end of the day he wasn’t really in any shape to figure out how to tie a tie around his head. So basically our hanami was a success. And as you can see by the video, toby also enjoyed the welcoming of spring, in particular the part where you can just stand around dancing while eating japanese snacks.