This is not something I usually write about, even though our son Axl will turn one very soon. In our day and age, it is possible to capture almost everything that our babies have done: their first steps, their first words, their first tooth, their first Elmo doll, their baptism, you name it. I already have more footage, both film and photo, of my baby than of my entire life. Other than his birthday, I will pretty much forget about everything he’s ever done. That’s also the nature of the beast, or should I say the beast who is getting older.
That said, I believe I will remember yesterday, April 28, 2008.
Okay, under normal circumstances, this day would be just another date. Another day, another dollar (or dinar, as I prefer to say here). Without the power of the pen, or in this case the keyboard hammering words out in Times New Roman, nobody would remember it. All I can say is: thank God for PC’s.
When my wife and I first brought Axl home from the hospital, we were a little concerned about his safety. Ginger, our cat, is the jealous type and will only reluctantly share her space. We pictured her paying little Axl visits in his Moses basket and making her presence known. We thought she might even go gangster on him and bite or scratch his little head. Every now and then she would approach Axl, sniff a little bit, but then just move on after confirming that this was indeed our kid. What we never counted on was our baby biting the cat.
This happened on April 28, 2008. It started innocently enough. It was a little before seven in the morning, and I had just climbed out of the shower and was poised to take over the baby from my wife before our nanny would relieve us. Now anybody who has ever had a baby will confirm that once they teethe, they will try out their new tools (with Axl, the expression weapons would be more appropriate) on anything.
It’s all fairly routine. Baby grabs, baby puts in mouth. It can be a shampoo bottle, a remote control, a cell phone (especially mine in this house), the leg of a table, anything. Even the cookie monster eating anything from a safe to a microphone has nothing on babies who have just teethed.
So far, Axl had always just grabbed the Ginger cat, pulling its tail or grabbing a handful of skin, much to the kitty’s chagrin. She would protest and hiss, but oddly enough she would never distance herself from the baby far enough to prevent further mishaps. Yesterday morning, it seems Axl finally decided that the cat’s fur looked worthy enough to taste. Mind you, Axl did not go for the tail or a skinny arm. He bit the neck. Needless to say, the Ginger cat didn’t care for that and ran for her life. Axl’s sour face confirmed afterward that cat fur was not as palatable as it had looked.
Then came his bath later in the evening. Here in Jordan, that can be a bit of a lengthy process, as the water needs to flow freely and all the orange colored rust needs to be drained before we have anything resembling clear bathwater.
The bath is fairly routine. His mother brings him to the bath, and I wash his hair and his entire body before we get to the fun part, which is playing with his bathtoys. Of course, he will put everything in his mouth here too, from the rubber duck to the waterproof plastic book we bought him. Eventually, when he gets bored, he will try and grab the shower head or pull the plug in the bath.
We were nearing the end of his bath and I was about to gather his toys, when I noticed something unfamiliar in the water. These were not the cute green and blue and purple toys floating on the surface, but nasty brown objects you would certainly not put in your mouth. Axl was removed from the bath and I was given the unenviable task of removing the turds from his little pool. As my wife correctly observed, Axl showed very little remorse when he left the bath.
Again, a couple of firsts you wouldn’t necessarily remember from your pride and joy.
Ah, but there was one little chapter in between that I will remember even more than the other two episodes, and I won’t even need the web to remind me. After the nanny had left, Axl crawled over to where I was and started horsing around. Usually, he’ll pull himself up your leg or grab a handful of hair, whatever floats his boat. He loves to flop on my belly, and then just roll around, kind of like a pig wallowing in the mud, for want of a better analogy. This time, he merely flopped on my belly…and went straight to sleep. Where is the camera when you need it?
Even now, looking back at that, that little event looms much larger than any floating turd possibly ever could.
Again, April 28 might have just been another day, but certainly one worth remembering in my personal history book.
That said, I believe I will remember yesterday, April 28, 2008.
Okay, under normal circumstances, this day would be just another date. Another day, another dollar (or dinar, as I prefer to say here). Without the power of the pen, or in this case the keyboard hammering words out in Times New Roman, nobody would remember it. All I can say is: thank God for PC’s.
When my wife and I first brought Axl home from the hospital, we were a little concerned about his safety. Ginger, our cat, is the jealous type and will only reluctantly share her space. We pictured her paying little Axl visits in his Moses basket and making her presence known. We thought she might even go gangster on him and bite or scratch his little head. Every now and then she would approach Axl, sniff a little bit, but then just move on after confirming that this was indeed our kid. What we never counted on was our baby biting the cat.
This happened on April 28, 2008. It started innocently enough. It was a little before seven in the morning, and I had just climbed out of the shower and was poised to take over the baby from my wife before our nanny would relieve us. Now anybody who has ever had a baby will confirm that once they teethe, they will try out their new tools (with Axl, the expression weapons would be more appropriate) on anything.
It’s all fairly routine. Baby grabs, baby puts in mouth. It can be a shampoo bottle, a remote control, a cell phone (especially mine in this house), the leg of a table, anything. Even the cookie monster eating anything from a safe to a microphone has nothing on babies who have just teethed.
So far, Axl had always just grabbed the Ginger cat, pulling its tail or grabbing a handful of skin, much to the kitty’s chagrin. She would protest and hiss, but oddly enough she would never distance herself from the baby far enough to prevent further mishaps. Yesterday morning, it seems Axl finally decided that the cat’s fur looked worthy enough to taste. Mind you, Axl did not go for the tail or a skinny arm. He bit the neck. Needless to say, the Ginger cat didn’t care for that and ran for her life. Axl’s sour face confirmed afterward that cat fur was not as palatable as it had looked.
Then came his bath later in the evening. Here in Jordan, that can be a bit of a lengthy process, as the water needs to flow freely and all the orange colored rust needs to be drained before we have anything resembling clear bathwater.
The bath is fairly routine. His mother brings him to the bath, and I wash his hair and his entire body before we get to the fun part, which is playing with his bathtoys. Of course, he will put everything in his mouth here too, from the rubber duck to the waterproof plastic book we bought him. Eventually, when he gets bored, he will try and grab the shower head or pull the plug in the bath.
We were nearing the end of his bath and I was about to gather his toys, when I noticed something unfamiliar in the water. These were not the cute green and blue and purple toys floating on the surface, but nasty brown objects you would certainly not put in your mouth. Axl was removed from the bath and I was given the unenviable task of removing the turds from his little pool. As my wife correctly observed, Axl showed very little remorse when he left the bath.
Again, a couple of firsts you wouldn’t necessarily remember from your pride and joy.
Ah, but there was one little chapter in between that I will remember even more than the other two episodes, and I won’t even need the web to remind me. After the nanny had left, Axl crawled over to where I was and started horsing around. Usually, he’ll pull himself up your leg or grab a handful of hair, whatever floats his boat. He loves to flop on my belly, and then just roll around, kind of like a pig wallowing in the mud, for want of a better analogy. This time, he merely flopped on my belly…and went straight to sleep. Where is the camera when you need it?
Even now, looking back at that, that little event looms much larger than any floating turd possibly ever could.
Again, April 28 might have just been another day, but certainly one worth remembering in my personal history book.
