May 24th, 2004

Landon has definitely reached a new stage in his development. Gone are the days of sitting down peacefully with a little boy under your arm while he slowly drifts off to dreams of warm milk and warmer breasts. Landon has figured out that there is an ever-changing world going on around him, and that he needs to keep his head on a swivel to take it all in. He has reached a constant alert level ranking between orange and red. This makes him incredibly more fun to interact with, his smiles, intense stares, and perplexed expressions are an endless source of entertainment. It also makes him incredibly labor intensive, Landon is ready to take in the world around him, but he must have a personal tour guide at his side at all times. This evolves into long days of satisfying his limitless curiosities, broken up by periods of short naps where Landon recharges his little batteries for his next bout of exploration. Landon has yet to really embrace his toys; the real world appears to quench his inquisitiveness for the time being, however, he does have a few friends he holds onto during his journeys. Whenever he is in his car seat or stroller, he is always accompanied by either Chewy the brown dog, Scrappy the lobster, or Bananas the monkey. Whether it be by a paw or a claw, Landon holds tightly to one of his buddies, always alternating between hugging or trying to devour his plush little stuffed friends, giggling and sharing little secrets with them about whatever a little baby finds secretive.

Last week I nearly turned Landon into a block of ice. We usually run a humidifier in his room when it is hot and dry in the house, recently it has been both of these more often than not. The repeated humidifier usage had begun to turn our son's room into a mildew filled swamp, so per Rhiannon's request I partially opened up the window in Landon's room to air things out. Later that night Rhiannon reminded me to shut the window before the cool night air flooded the room. I quickly responded to here request, only instead of closing the window, I managed to open the window the rest of the way, and shortly thereafter drifted off to sleep. The next morning I took the dog out around 5:00am and heard a quiet little sneeze float out of the upstairs window. I literally froze. Another sneeze descended upon me from the wide open window above. I climbed the stairs and entered Landon's overly refrigerated room. He lay there quietly staring at the mobile above his crib. I reached out, felt his freezing little hands, and snuck him into our room and under the warm covers. He cooed a little and drifted off to sleep while I lay guilt ridden and wide awake next to him. I still manage to step into some deep holes in the fatherhood stream.

Landon took his first dip in a pool last week. He donned his Hawaiian print waterproof diapers and headed out to a pool party with his Mom and some of her friends from school. From all accounts he seemed to love the water. He looked hilarious in the pictures from the day - little baby man boobs and baby milk belly, literally glowing while sitting in RhiannonÕs tan arms. We visited the beach again last weekend, and Landon giggled and napped away on the warm sand. We have officially taken one step closer to family hood; we are now in the ranks of proud umbrella toting beach goers, next step a station wagon. Landon got a chance to feel sand between his toes which he seemed to enjoy; he also got to feel the ocean lap up over his feet which he seemed to enjoy far less. I guess we'll wait for the water to warm up a little more before his complete salt water baptism.

May 20th, 2004

I zipped up and back to Oregon earlier this week (more on this trip in a later entry). I was gone for a total of 36 hours. I came away with a new discovery related to fatherhood. Having a son has made me much more aware of my own mortality. This little burst of new life has made me desperately aware of my own life, and the fact that suddenly, my existence has a new level of importance and responsibility placed upon it. I thought about it on the plane - what if my winged chariot crashed? what if I never saw my son again? would he remember me? I want to be there for Landon for all of the important things in his life, and all of the unimportant events as well. Suddenly I'm starting to think I should see a dermatologist to make sure my sun damaged skin isn't precancerous, suddenly my diet is something worth paying some attention to, maybe the air I breathe should be a little cleaner.

A coworker and I were reminiscing about early memories we have surrounding various fishing excursions we took as kids with our respective dads. I remembered dissecting fish on the patio table, cutting out eyeballs, and hearts, and stomachs to see what the fish had eaten. I remembered bringing home opaleye from the cliffs in La Jolla, still alive by the time we reached home, and trying to revive them in the sink with a mixture of tap water and table salt, the more they struggled to live, the more salt got mixed in the sink (they were after all, salt water fish). I remember falling in a pond and having my Dad fish me out. The memories forced me to realize what a wonderful and wonderfully patient father I have, and what a great role model he is for me now as a father, and how I need to try and reflect similar love and support toward Landon. I want to always remember to let Landon's imagination run wild, and to be there to share in his childhood adventures, knowing that it will shape the person he becomes, just like my adventures with scaled creatures has helped form who I am today.

I decided that the smell of old dried breast milk will always make me smile and think of Landon - gross but true.

May 8th, 2004

Ugh, the responsibilities of fatherhood, husband and work have created an overwhelming time suckage that has kept me away from this journal for far too long, and unfortunately the trend looks to continue.

The last week and a half have been relatively uneventful in the big scheme of things. Landon has discovered that he has two hands, and that he can bring them together and interlock fingers, and put the whole writhing mound into his slobbery mouth. Essentially Landon has quickly learned that anything that comes into contact with his fingers belongs in his mouth. He also has begun to kick his legs up in the air, and will readily wrap his feet around a parental arm if given the chance. I affectionately have begun referring to this period as his ‘monkey phase’, and envision that this must in many ways be what it would have been like if I had ever gotten the monkey I had always wanted as a pet - the only real difference being that this monkey looks way too much like me, and doesn’t have a tail.

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day and Landon has promised that he will stop crying and begin to sleep through the entire night, at least that’s what I got out of his smile framed gurgles this afternoon. Truthfully though, as I have quickly come to appreciate in my brief stint as a father, the largest contributing factor to a happy healthy boy; is a caring, attentive, self sacrificing mother – luckily for Landon, Rhiannon is all of these things and a barrel more. I am constantly amazed at her selfless devotion to our son, it forces me to love her more than I imagined possible. And now tomorrow I am faced with the daunting task of impressing upon her just how tremendously incredible she is as a mother to our son. Truthfully, I haven’t got a chance.

Landon’s grandfather Sharp got in an accident riding his Harley today, on the way back from a bike ride to Monterey. Apparently he took a turn too fast and slid out, breaking his right foot in the process. Fortunately, other than probably a good sized ding to his ego, he is in good shape. I always have, and always will be wary of motorcycles. I’m sure that riding them is a great thrill, but I really don’t see the reward outweighing the risk. Landon could have easily lost a grandfather today, without really getting the chance to know him, all because he wanted to be ‘free’ on the open road. Maybe I’m just getting old and conservative - I may have Landon in a helmet by the time he starts to walk.