toby of the day: I said good day!

The other night when I was putting him to sleep, toby had mostly dozed off when he suddenly bolted upright and asked “Mr. Wonka pee in the toilet?” then just as suddenly he laid back down and was snoring again. I imagine his dreaming little head to be like some crazy editing room where all sorts of gibberish gets spliced together in a manner a thousand times more nonsensical than what I wake up remembering these days. Which I have to say makes me a little jealous. For example, I recently dreamt that I was hanging out with Ewan McGregor talking about how my hand felt like it was asleep at which point I awoke to find that my hand was, in fact, asleep and then I lay awake for a while, feeling vaguely disappointed since dreaming about my hand being asleep because it was actually asleep was sort of a waste of a dream involving Ewan McGregor, you know what I mean? In any case, with regard to toby’s dreaming, the answer to your first question is that toby is obsessed with the classic willy wonka and the chocolate factory movie not the more recent, although also enjoyable, tim burton remake. It started with an interest in the oompa loompa songs, but has spiraled into an addiction to much of the film and often results in him singing various songs and reciting bits and pieces of it, especially this scene. I have to say it’s a bit unnerving when your two year old is constantly walking around shouting “good day, sir!” or “it’s all there, black and white, clear as crystal!” in his grumpiest, most Gene Wilderesque voice. The answer to your second question is that toby does sometimes pee in the toilet himself, although not frequently enough that we can imagine a diaper free lifestyle anytime in the near future. And as far as toby’s question, well, if you have any insight just let us know.

toby of the day: our summer vacation

Toby has not flown on an airplane since we came back from japan last October. That flight, described in detail here, was sufficiently awful to swear us off of flying with Toby forever. And by forever I of course mean 10 months. Historically, Jon and I have tended to take elaborate trips, and like a couple of heroin addicts we usually rationalize those trips by telling ourselves that this will be it, after this we’re staying home, only to get antsy after a month or two and suddenly we’re on the interweb buying tickets to Thailand. So for us, 10 months is kind of like forever. Sure, during those 10 months, Jon and I traveled a bit for work, I went back to Japan, and jon and I both went to bochum germany, which jon described as the scranton of germany, mostly because to call it the detroit of germany would make it seem too cosmopolitan. But those were definitely trips for work, and so by june, we were crawling out of our skin at having remained so sedentary. Because, really, while Germany in January might be many things, it is not Thailand. I realize of course that Seattle is also not Thailand, but I would point out that it is also not scranton. And it’s only 2 hours away. And has some really nice hotels. So recently, we braved the skies again with toby in tow, as well as our friends ed and michelle and their 5 month old son milo. Here’s a little summary of our trip.

Thursday: car to airplane to car to hotel. Toby liked the airplane, if only because we spent most of the 90 minutes stuffing him full of dried fruits to keep his ears clear. We ate lunch, and toasted the start of our vacation with some tasty beer. Then toby and I made some vague attempts at napping while jon slept like a hibernating bear. Then dinner at a brewpub down the street where our waitress managed to create toby a fruit bowl filled with fruits she snuck out of the bar and off the dessert plates. Those seattle folk sure are friendly.

Friday we spent the morning gawking at other gawkers at the fish market. Toby found the market to be somewhat uninteresting until we discovered the construction they were doing behind the fish market involving a number of digging trucks and a crane. I believe if we had offered to just leave him there with a sleeping bag and a handful of dried cherries, he would have been set for the rest of the trip. But we didn’t and instead we packed him up and headed to the space needle. At the bottom of the needle is a little amusement park, full of cleaner than average carnies and even what toby called a “big train” otherwise known as a roller coaster. In truth, it was one of the smaller roller coasters I’ve seen, but you wouldn’t have guessed that based on the squeals of the preteen boys riding in the front car. Toby was too short to ride, so we headed over to the carousel which toby called the “scary horse”. Given such a name, as you might imagine, we didn’t make it onto the carousel. But, we did which make it onto a flying elephant and dragon ride, called dumbo and puff, I guess to avoid copyright issues associated with rides that only include flying elephant. It was a successful ride in that I did not get dizzy, and toby thought it was the greatest thing since tiny rocks. Then we went up the space needle. Then we came down. Then lunch. Then toby surreptitiously vomited lunch all over his pants, so he and I caught a bus back to the hotel. The bus was full of physicists wearing fezzes. Toby was blissfully sleeping in my lap or I would have followed them. Then we did some other stuff which I can’t remember because it was not yesterday, but it can’t be as interesting as the physicists in fezzes, right, so really, what does it matter?

We started Saturday with a leisurely brunch. Afterwards, hopped up on pancakes, toby tried to break into the museum of mysterious things because he desperately wanted to hug the stuffed yeti sitting in the stairwell. Unfortunately, the
most mysterious part of the museum was the fact that it was not open even though according to the hours it should have been. After that we worked our way over to the sculpture garden. There, jon overheated and insisted that we find a cool spot with beer before he passed out because it was easily 85 degrees out. So we were working our way back toward our hotel, searching for beer on the way, when we ran across some very helpful people holding what might be described as an outdoor informational seminar. Their gathering might also be called an anti-gay protest held by religious wackos. but that difference is mostly semantic. in any case, one woman in particular wanted very much to let milo and toby know about appropriate versus inappropriate places to put an erection. While her list was a little sparse, she was surprisingly detailed about the few places that she did include, and quite loud. Whereas I, with my prudish nature and all, would be a little embarrassed to be standing on a street corner yelling at passing children and families waiting to cross the street about erections and rectums, she seemed to find it completely natural. Unfortunately, both milo and toby were asleep at the time, so they missed out on her wealth of information. And while someday I may remember to counsel toby on things I might avoid were I to have an erection (sharp objects, paris hilton), I worry that now he may never know this woman’s useful tips. At least I can only hope. After our run in with the zealots, we finally found some beer and toby and milo awoke and ate snacks. Then Jon and I went to dinner by ourselves where we tried to come up with something to talk about other than toby while toby hung out with ed, michelle and milo and introduced them to a range of youtube videos that I can only assume they never imagined existed. Like this one. And maybe this one. Then we came home, and we all went to sleep.

On Sunday I picked everyone up in our zipcar minivan and we headed onto a ferry over to Bainbridge island. Toby enjoyed the ferry and jon and I only briefly discussed a rescue plan for what we would do if he jumped from my arms and fell in. We spent a few minutes trying to reach the front of the boat where the wind was very strong. At this particular moment, I have difficulty envisioning a time when we will ever encounter wind again and toby will not say ‘remember the boat? Windy!’ but I’m sure if you ask me in 6 months, he won’t be saying that and I’ll just stare at you blankly having forgotten about this episode entirely. In any case, the ferry docked and we drove for a couple hours to port townsend where we ate at a brewpub then wandered around the tacky shops. Ed and michelle did not buy a hand carved wooden moose, but clearly wanted to, so if you’re looking for what to buy them for the holidays, now you know. Then we piled back in the car and returned to the ferry. We played a delightful game of “where’s Edward?” which involves asking “where’s Edward?” while lifting your hands, palms up, next to your slightly shrugged shoulders and then looking around. A similar game called “where’s Michelle” was also played. Toby is quite the expert at both games, as well as a third game called “where’s Milo?” In contrast, he is not a big fan of “where’s mama?” or “where’s daddy?”, at least not when he can play the highly superior “where’s Edward?”. We returned, rested and headed out for hip, upscale Vietnamese food suggested by our concierge. Perhaps because it was the first non-brewpub food that he had encountered for a few days, toby seemed particularly enthusiastic about dinner, and even voluntarily ate some carrots. Our waitstaff was not as enthusiastic, and appeared rather perplexed by the presence of two patrons under 2 (and 4 patrons over 30). I think we were not really their demographic. But the food was delicious.

Toby and I spent our last morning touring the library across the street from our hotel. It’s awesome. We spent much of our time at the children’s section, which was bustling with playgroups. While most of them seemed entirely reasonable and cohesive, there was one special one. It was kind of like when you assemble a Swedish desk and are left with a perfectly functional piece of furniture and a whole bunch of screws and strange plastic bits that just don’t fit together at all. These women were those screws. Their leader was patronizing and bossy and did a surprising amount of yelling for someone in a library. Below her was a moneyed grand dame, mostly interested in where they were going to go for tea. and at the bottom was a flustered woman who seemed unable to stand up to her 3 year old, let alone the playgroup leader. I would describe their children, but I can only assume they had snuck out of the library to find themselves good therapist because I never saw them. Toby didn’t either because he was busy reading about dinosaurs. After the library, we took a little stroll, had our last lunch of bar food and beer and headed back to the protective san francisco fog. The flight home was a breeze. Next stop: indonesia.

toby of the day: an excuse to use the word dapper

Remember the scene in Cinderella, where the forest animals have spent the day collecting junk around the house to put together a dress. And so Cinderella gets gussied up and wanders downstairs and her ugly stepsisters proceed to tear the dress apart. well, the other day I was trying on my favorite dress in preparation for a wedding we were attending. It’s a royal blue, silk Chinese dress that jon bought for me when we were first dating. I’ve worn it once, to a dinner in boston where I managed to cover the front with wine and duck. Since then jon has refused to let me wear it. Apparently, even though I cannot see the stains (the dress has little tolerance for such grandiose movements as, say, looking at your chest so when I try to look down at them a bunch of snaps bust open on the shoulder) he can see nothing but the stains. But I figured this could be my chance to wear it again, because no one would bat an eyelash at the fact that a woman holding a two year old had stains on her dress. So I was trying on the dress, mostly to see if I would be able to chase that two year old around when I was unable to breathe, bend over, or separate my feet more than 8 inches. But it turned out that the chasing part wasn't much of an issue, because toby immediately turned into one of those wicked stepsisters, screaming “noooooooo! take it off! take it ooooooffffffff” while clutching at the fabric and yanking with all his might. Fortunately, his might is not as strong as Chinese silk, so the dress remained intact. But it did mean that I had to hunt down something else to wear at the last minute, or find myself some forest animals willing to make me one, since having your clothes torn off by a small screaming child is often frowned upon at weddings, even weddings held in Berkeley. And while that would have made for some exciting photos, you’ll have to settle for these of toby looking quite dapper in a sweater vest.

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.