Little Victor Update | The finger

Copyright ImageVankleek Hill photo

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My son has learned the eternal and universal symbol for the concept of “I want”… he has learned to point, which he does a lot now. Pointing is quickly followed by him looking up at you with his huge blue eyes, and say “uhwa too?”, or something like that.

I believe the literal translation of “uhwa too” is “my crazy daddy says what?” because, when I reply “what?”, he just laughs.

How we all evolved to this point is obvious, in retrospect.

Over the past month or two he had taught himself how to throw his toys, either out of his playpen, or from the platform around his ExcerSaucer, to the point where he can now get some pretty decent distance between himself and his lighter toys.

Throwing for distance, however, is not replacing his other means of clearing his space, he still stacks things when he has a chance, he still pushes toys and bits of food off his tray, he’ll still pick something up drop it to the floor, then lean way over to see if it still exists.

So, for the past few months, Victor has been training Diane and I by throwing an object, then waiting for us to bring it back to him. Now we’ve moved to the next step in our training, and that’s bringing back only specified items.

Sometimes it gets a little confused, like he’ll point to a non-toy item, like a book or a cat, and say “uhwa too”, but that just gets weird because there’s no way I’m giving him my copy of Georges Conchon’s ‘The Hollow Victory’.

Or sometimes he’ll point to an item then, if you’re not fast enough in reaching for it, he’ll point to something else just to confuse matters… does he want both, or first one then the other? This is how I spend my days now, interpreting the hand gestures of a fourteen-month old baby.

And misinterpretation is not always treated with patience. Most of the time he’ll reset, then point again, treating us like the simpletons we are. But sometimes he’ll raise his voice, jump around in his ExcerSaucer / tank turret, and wave madly around in circles.

But then he’ll regain his composure, look up at me and point again at whatever he wanted, and ask “crazy daddy says what?”.

I think the next step is him actually resorting to use our language to make things clear to us. Most babies I know of eventually get to the “want that” stage. I’m sure the use of constant repetition, as a teaching tool, will only serve to educate us faster.

There’s a video below.

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Once again Victor is under assault from his ancient enamel adversaries. It’s not going well. Victor has six teeth now (including four that make it obvious there’s some beaver genes in the kid), and it looks like seven through ten are pushing through.

Victor doesn’t cry often, and he definitely never cries without a reason. Sometimes interpreting those reasons can be difficult, to the point where we basically go down the list of recurring grievances: diaper, toys, bottle, nap time, cranky the Senators suck.

But when it’s his teeth there are actual physical signs we can look for, specifically the size and colour of his cheeks. He’ll also have a bit of a fever as well.

For the past few days Victor has had a really difficult time getting to sleep, and then staying asleep. The OraJel has helped, and we’ve given him a 1.5mL hit of liquid Tylenol to take the edge off on a couple of nights.

His breathing has been pretty rough for a few days as well, nothing to do with the teeth, he’s had a bit of nose-cold since Wednesday-ish. So last night I finally broke out the humidifier I received as a gift three or four years ago.

Twenty minutes later both he and his mother stopped snoring and I was able to sleep, finally.

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Speaking of the health of Victor’s daddy… for the past three weeks I’ve been putting up with an infection in my left eye. It seems to run in a four day on, two day off cycle.

Basically, for four days it gets progressively more painful, more swollen, more leaky, and my vision gets blurry. Then, over the next two days, the pain goes away and it deflates. At this point I might give it a name.

It has gotten better for a longer period of time, right now there’s still some leakage but only some mild itchiness. The corner does feel stiff, but the pain and swelling is gone. For now. I’ve promised Diane that I’ll see a doctor if it comes back… or gets worse again, I guess.

I’ve also been limping for a month, thanks to some diabetes-related pain in my right foot. It’s a burning pain plus, when I twist my foot, it also feels like a vice is being tightened… or someone hitting me with a hammer. Or something. I think what I’m trying to say is it’s painful.

It gets significantly worse when I’m walking on snowy sidewalks. The pain also shoots up to my knee when I walk.

I’d like it to go away, but it isn’t. I guess it probably will when I get the prosthetic. I should probably see a doctor and start eating twelve-grain bread.

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Video Of Victor’s Week:

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Photos Of Victor’s Week:

Victor with Mommy

Victor with Daddy

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Posted in CSN:AFU Aboot Me, Diabetes, Entertainment, Parenthood, Parenting, poverty, Vankleek Hill, Victor, Victor's Week In Review, Writing, YouTube Alert | Tagged , , | 3 Comments

Little Victor Update | Time for a walk

Copyright ImageVankleek Hill photo Victor walking

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Victor has decided he’d like to go for a walk. It’s possible this could be a simple youthful phase he’ll eventually work himself through, like wanting to learn Latin or voting for the NDP, but so far he seems pretty serious about getting somewhere.

So far he can stand on his own, and walk beside one of us as we hold his hand. But he has definitely taken a few steps on his own.

This is how it happened:

First Victor learned how to flip from his back to his belly;

Then, in August-ish, he started to crawl;

While we were outside taking photos of Victor in the fall leaves, Diane held both of his hands and showed him how to put one foot in front of the other;

He started to use the sides of his crib and playpen to pull himself up to a standing position;

Then he learned how to fall properly (ie: not landing on his face), by twisting his body so his hands hit the ground first;

Then he figured out how to shuffle his hands and feet so he could walk inside of the crib/playpen using the bar for support;

Next was learning to balance using one hand on the bar;

After that came stretching from one object to another, like from a coffee table to his excersaucer, so he had to let go with one hand and fall to the other object with the other;

And then, just to mess with us, he started taking his pants off… like, I’d change him into clean pants, then turn around to get his socks and turn back to see him dancing in his playpen with no pants on;

About this time he also started standing up in his crib / playpen, and supporting himself only using his front teeth by biting the bar;

Then, about a week ago, Diane came walking out of the bedroom holding Victor’s hand, and Victor had a big smile and was putting one foot in front of the other. For most of the trip, however, it looked like Victor was pulling Diane.

The one thing he hasn’t figured out yet, thank God, is how to raise himself from a sit or crawl position, directly into a standing one, without using something to pull himself up with. Diane has seen him standing unassisted in the playpen though, but she’s pretty sure he got there by climbing.

All I know is, at this rate, by March he’ll be flying. At least levitating.

He has only taken a handful of steps on his own, but that’s what a beginning is.

It’s still surprising how steady his legs are when he’s standing. I have a video from just three weeks ago where Victor was standing up, using a coffee table to steady himself, and he was still having real problems unlocking his knees so he could get back to the floor.

A few days ago Victor and Diane went for another walk around my apartment, and she let go and stood back a little and Victor managed, with very little effort, to stand all on his own.

So, on two separate occasions that I know of, Victor has stood on his own, and taken a few steps… and neither time did he ask if I wanted anything from the kitchen.

We’ve come so far together, but there’s still so much further to go.

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Victor is also stacking things, like his cereal puffs and toys. If his excersaucer is parked too close to a chair or coffee table he’ll gently stack his stuff, so it’s out of his way.

At the same time Victor has also learned how to throw for distance. Until now he’ll take a toy that’s in his way and just drop it off his excersaucer, then lean over and look to see where it landed. But now he can toss that same toy nearly across the room. It does make him happy.

But he does share. If he’s eating his cereal snacks, and you hold your hand out, he’ll make sure you get a cereal puff as well. At first he’d hand you a piece of dry cereal, only to come back a second later and take it back. But now he’ll wait for you to eat it.

He’ll be in his excersaucer, and just stop everything to watch you put the light-as-air puff into your mouth, then jump around smiling like he just watched the greatest thing ever.

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One weird thing he’s been doing for a while now is… he’ll be in his excersaucer or highchair, look up directly at a ceiling light, stretch his head and neck towards it, put his arms in the air with his palms up, and make a duck face with his lips.

Sometimes he makes little vibration noises. It looks like he’s giving a shout-out to an Aztec god. I have a couple of photos of him doing it, but I really want a video.

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Photos Of Victor’s (Walking) Week:

Victor standing

Victor leading

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Bonus Photo Of Victor’s Week:

Victor with Daddy

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Posted in CSN:AFU Aboot Me, Family, Health, Little Victor, Parenthood, Parenting, Photography, Vankleek Hill, Victor, Victor's Week In Review, Writing | Tagged , , | 2 Comments

Using boiling water to make snow on a -25C sick day

Copyright ImageVankleek Hill sick day

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Someone in the Northwest Territories uploaded a video to YouTube showing how to make snow with boiling water… I know, finally someone found a use for the Internet besides spreading Mayan propaganda and killing off the music industry.

Basically a woman in Yellowknife, with her Australian friend filming her, poured boiling water into a measuring cup and then threw the water into the -30C air.

Instantly the water became a white cloud, which I think was just the steam coming off the airborne hot water, but on the way down the water flash-froze and became trails of snow.

One of the 2.9 million people who watched the short film left a comment describing the science behind the experiment, but all I can remember is it has to be done when it’s nut-cracking / ovary-shattering cold. I should probably start taking notes again.

So after watching it a few times I boiled some water and, at 3am, threw it off my balcony. And it turned into snow. Then I did it four or five more times.

The next day I showed off to my girlfriend and her oldest son, who was home sick with a head cold. They were both impressed.

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YouTube Warning: horizontal stripes add forty pounds.

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According to the Weather Network the Vankleek Hill region hit a frosty -25C when I was showing off. But for the next few weeks we’ll be flirting with par, weather wise. So it’s basically time to break out the T-shirts and shorts, and any further experimentation might have to wait until next year.

Which sucks… because *I just figured out how to make it infinitely more awesome*.

…add a touch of food colouring, or your favourite Kool-Aid colour, I just did it with strawberry. So basically I just shot two Litres of boiling red water off my second floor balcony, and in less than a second it turned into a giant, floating blood-pink mist.

Just like what I frequently imagine a real-world Grand Theft Auto IV would look like.

I’m pretty sure if my neighbours saw me doing it they’d be calling the police. I’m going to try it again during the sunrise. Science… fun.

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Posted in Canadian Inventions, Entertainment, Family Events, Humor, Humour, Photography, Vankleek Hill, Vankleek Hill Photos, Writing, YouTube Alert | Tagged | 4 Comments

Canadian Inventions — Hollywood

Copyright ImageVankleek Hill cat

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A long time ago in a state far, far away… and at least sixty years before Scientology took over, Hollywood was invented by Canadians.

Mary Pickford, who starred in 248 movies between 1909 and 1950 as well as co-founding United Artists Studios, was a Canadian. So was Jack Warner who, along with his four brothers, founded Warner Brothers Studio, and then there was Louis B. Mayer who, along with his brother (also a Canadian), founded MGM Studios. Funny how no one offers this as proof that Canadians rule the world.

By 1930, three of the six major studios were either founded, owned outright, or run by Canadian immigrants to the Unites States.

Admittedly, calling the Mayer brothers “Canadian” might be a bit of a stretch. Louis was born in 1884 in the Ukraine, immigrated to Rhode Island, then, when Louis was ten, the family moved to New Brunswick where they were embraced in the Canadian ethos of equality and understanding… no, wait, Louis and his siblings were beaten up nearly every day by the locals, because they were Jewish.

In 1904, at the age of nineteen, he managed to get out of New Brunswick, with all of his teeth still where they were supposed to be. And went into business for himself, eventually owning five movie theatres across New England.

In 1916 Louis moved into the movie distribution business, and created Metro Pictures Corporation. Two years later he formed the Louis B. Mayer Pictures Corporation. After a series of mergers the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer studio was formed. Very early on, Louis was actually screwed out of an ownership position, instead he became MGM’s studio boss for close to thirty years.

“As a studio boss, Louis B. Mayer built MGM into the most financially successful motion picture studio in the world and the only one to pay dividends throughout the Great Depression of the 1930s…” — Wikipedia: Louis B. Mayer

By 1936, Mayer was actually the highest paid person living in the United States… obviously the tools he developed in his early boyhood while living in New Brunswick, like dodging bottles, came in handy.

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It’s a lot harder to understand how Jack Warner and Mary Pickford have been referred to as Americans, because they were actually born in Canada.

Jack was born in London, Ontario in 1892. But the Warner family moved to the United States two years later. In 1910, Jack got into the movie business with his four brothers, and in 1918 they formed Warner Brothers.

Later, in 1950, in one of the greatest over the top moments of excessive douchebaggery in the industry’s history, Jack actually deceived his brothers into selling their Warner Brothers shares to him by creating a proxy company, then urging his brothers to sell to the proxy, giving Jack complete control over the movie studio.

Warner was quite possibly the first “Hollywood bastard”, because he also cheated on his wife, married the new girl and disowned his son when he objected, even refusing to later attend his funeral.

In 1947, Warner also “named names” (so did Mayer) at the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC), thereby crushing the careers of at least a dozen screenwriters, and giving respectability to McCarthy’s “Red under every bed” fantasies.

Warner was also a staunch supporter of Richard Milhouse Nixon, and he supported the Vietnam War until the end.

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But then, thankfully, there was the near-angelic Mary “Canada’s Sweetheart” Pickford. Mary was born Gladys Marie Smith in 1892, in Toronto, which is still technically part of Canada.

Her road to Hollywood was more pedestrian than Jack or Louis’ was. Mary started acting as a child in Toronto, and ended up as part of a travelling troupe working her way across the United States.

In 1913 she signed with the studio which would soon become Paramount Pictures. Her movies were constantly among the top grossing films of their time, and back then they were pumping out about ten a day. She was considered the most recognizable woman in the world, as well as the most powerful woman in the movie world, as a human being she was second only to Charlie Chaplin.

In 1919, Mary, along with Chaplin, Douglas Fairbanks and D.W. Griffith — one of the greatest directors of all time — formed the United Artists film studio. The studio, they believed, would give them greater decision making ability in their careers as writers, directors and actors.

As with most businesses started by artists, this was almost immediately a financial failure. The group was out of money and ideas by 1924, and Griffith had left the group.

United Artists flailed around for two decades, then in 1941 Mary, along with Chaplin, Orson Welles, David O. Selznick, Walt Disney, and others, formed the Society of Independent Motion Picture Producers as a way to regain control over their product from the studio system — re: Louis B. Mayer and Jack Warner.

At the time the studios controlled everything from the production, to the distribution and exhibition of films… including the theatres themselves. So, if you were an independent producer there was no chance your film could be exhibited.

In 1942 the US Supreme Court ruled in favour of Mary and her rabble-rouser’s, and the studio system was effectively shot in the heart.

Mary sold her shares in United Artists in 1956.

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So… Canada’s influence on the creation of Hollywood:

1. MGM, for decades, was the most powerful movie studio in North America thanks to a guy who, as a child and living in Canada, was regularly beaten up by Canadian bigots and anti-Semites.

2. Warner Brothers was created and run by Canadian brothers, who gave us Daffy Duck and Bugs Bunny, and free campaign services for Nixon.

3. United Artists, started out as the anti-studio movie studio but is currently a subsidiary of MGM (which is in bankruptcy proceedings).

So Canadians were instrumental in creating the Studio System, and then responsible for breaking that same system down and giving actors, directors, writers, grips and best boys control over where they worked. Basically, like baseball and hockey players in later decades, the Talent became free agents.

This eventually allowed ambitious, but not necessarily overly talented people, such as Tom Cruise*, to receive $25 million per movie up front, as well as a substantial slice of the movie’s residuals… which, in 2006, gave Tom the freedom and finances to purchase a substantial stake in United Artists Studios.

…yeah, you’re welcome world.

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*Tom, by the way, lived in Ottawa, Canada, for a few years, leaving at the age of twelve when his mother divorced his father. I’m not sure if Tom was ever beaten up by Canadian anti-Scientologists.

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Other Canadian Inventions: Wonderbra; Pacemaker; Instant Replay; The Lightbulb; Lithium & Alkaline Batteries; Insulin; Radio… yes, radio; Basketball; Pablum…

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Posted in Canada, Canadian Inventions, Entertainment, Humor, Humour, Vankleek Hill Photos, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Little Victor Update | One year ago today

Copyright ImageVankleek Hill photo Victor sugar

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Victor finally has an age. He is a full year old. His original due date was January 10, 2010, and his original name would have been Victor Binary Landriault… so his being premature might have been a good thing. We ended up going with Victor, for my grandfather, and David, for Diane’s father.

The entire “birth” thing started around 9pm on Friday, December 11, 2009, when his mother’s water broke. Somehow, forty-five minutes later, her apartment was filled with her parents, two paramedics and a friend of mine.

This is a relatively short slideshow of the past year and a bit… just reload the page, or use the arrow keys to find the beginning.

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This slideshow requires JavaScript.

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Other than Diane freaking out, Victor popping out, and the nurse’s reaction when I asked if I could keep the scissors I cut the umbilical cord with (they’re in my freezer), the thing I remember most about the two days of Victor’s birth is how weird the nurses treated me.

Both nights I was there, for example, I had to sleep on the floor. Which was weird. At least the first night they gave me a sheet to cover up with. The second night I mostly spent with Victor in the Intensive Care Unit, he was considered to be a premature baby, even though he was only one day early.

I stayed with him for about three and a half hours before I was too exhausted to be alive anymore. When I finally arrived at Diane’s room the nurse told me I couldn’t sleep in the second bed, because someone might be admitted. I could, however, sleep on the floor beside the bed.

I started shaking about twenty minutes later. I think it was mostly from the cold draft, but there had to be some diabetes stuff going on as well. From 11pm on Friday until about 4pm on Saturday I survived on a bag of nuts from the vending machine, and two cups of orange juice I managed to get a nurse to find me.

I know I had something to eat Saturday, just before they started sticking large needles into Diane’s back — Diane has a needle phobia, and at one point a nurse actually quit after being screamed at, she was eventually coaxed back — but it wasn’t much of a meal… I think it was a small container of cream of something soup, and some crackers and jam.

Around 6 or 7am on Sunday they finally brought Victor into our room. I could hear everything people were saying, but I couldn’t move or speak. When I did wake up, or when I stopped being passed out, on Sunday morning Diane let me have some of her breakfast.

Everything pretty much got better from there.

The good news was, I wasn’t the one who had to give birth vaginally to a 6lb9oz bowling ball. So… thanks for that, Diane. And Happy Birthday Victor.

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I’m not sure if it has anything to do with finally having an age, but Victor has discovered new sounds over the past two weeks, and they all echo from the depths of despair.

We think it’s caused by the pains in his mouth, his gums are almost completely white with new teeth pushing through. His cheeks are red almost all the time, and sometimes they swell up like he cotton balls stuffed in there.

The new sounds are… not nice to listen to.

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A combination of Diane being sick for a few days, and having just moved into an actual house, means we’ve had to postpone Victor’s first birthday bonanza.

…probably until the second week of January.

We’ll still have cake later on tonight, but it’ll just be myself, Diane, Andrew and Victor.

It’ll be the first time Victor will have his very own cake, all to himself. I think he’s going to mush it into his face, Diane thinks he’ll stuff a handful into his mouth and fling the rest around the room in big handfuls of cake carnage.

It should be awesome.

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Unfortunately there will be no pictures of the event.

I have [had] misplaced my camera… by which I really mean I put it down and I’m pretty sure someone else picked it up. This is the first time since 1994 I have not had a working camera within reach, and it kind of sucks in ways that really, really suck. And then, three days later, the person who picked it up decided to give it back.

There’s no way I can replace it before… probably February. So… this just sucks beyond suckage.

Friday night Victor was bouncing around in his excersaucer at Diane’s and I couldn’t film it… he has almost outgrown both excersaucers, so when he starts bouncing he can almost get the freaking thing to lift off the ground. It’s awesome.

And with the new sounds of despair, he also has new joyful sounds as well.

Oh well… I do have some markers, and a lot of paper, so maybe I can learn how to draw.

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Here’s some irony to finish this off with… I am without a camera for the first time in sixteen years, and my pocket digital vanished just a day after I started a pure photo blog.

If you’re interested, and you should be because it’s fucking awesome, it’s called “Vankleek Hill Photos” and mostly it’s photos of Vankleek Hill. But really interesting, and I’ll be updating it every day.

Check it out, and don’t be afraid to praise my brilliance.

So far it looks great… and it’s actually soothing to my burned out brain. Which is a nice change of pace.

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Photos Of Victor’s Week:

Victor with remote

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Bonus Photo Of Victor’s Week:

Victor with Santa

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Posted in Diabetes, Little Victor, Ottawa, Parenthood, Parenting, Photography, poverty, Vankleek Hill, Victor, Victor's Week In Review, Writing | Tagged , | 5 Comments

Little Victor Update | Victor Bieber makes his own beats

Copyright ImageVankleek Hill photo Victor spacekid

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Victor is getting sick. We’re pretty sure it’s a cold, whatever it has been coming on slowly for the past two days.

We’ve spent most of the night trying to coax him to sleep, but whenever we leave he starts with the loud crying. He’s obviously tired, he keeps pushing and twisting his hands into his eyes. Diane held him and hummed to him for half an hour in the dark, and eventually he calmed down. But once she put him down in his crib he started crying again.

And it’s not his barely-tolerable, medium level “I’m hungry and wet” cry. It’s his “I just found out the Universe hates me” cry.

Which is exactly the sound of the opposite of good.

We just had him in the living room for about thirty minutes. There’s no fever, which is good, but his nose is a little stuffed. Diane thinks most of the problem right now is he has a lot of gas, which he can’t pass, and he’s overtired. He did miss his afternoon siesta.

While he was out here we were listening to music, mostly Tom Petty, and I was keeping time by beating on my desk. Victor loves music, and has little dances he does when he gets excited when I’m laying down a beat. I think it’s just the pounding on my desk that gets him going — big smile, swaying side to side.

Then I yell something like “yeah, John Bonham, John Bonham”, and he goes nuts, his little arms waving in the air.

Diane was holding him while he was dancing, and he kept driving his head into her chest. It’s part of his dance. My son is a headbanging maniac, and he’s not even a year old yet.

We finally put him back into his crib and he was quiet for about twenty minutes, then he started his stutter cry. Sometimes he’ll have a little cry while he’s sleeping, kind of like having a bad dream, and he’ll wake himself up and the crying gets a little louder because he realizes he has been crying.

…basically he doesn’t know what’s wrong, just that something must be wrong because he was crying. The good thing about these cries is they never get too loud… because there’s nothing wrong.

But because he was so tired it sounded like he was crying with a stutter. I’ll admit it does get annoying having Victor cry when there’s either nothing wrong, or after we’ve done everything we can to fix the problem as best we can — bottle, diaper, excersaucer, hugs, humming, diaper again, warm the bottle, OraJel, hugs, back scratching, diaper again, warm blanket, Baby Tylenol, isolation, whispering to each other, TV off, praying, diaper again.

…that’s funny, he just woke himself up a little by letting loose with three loud, long bursts of gas. His breathing has been a little wheezy, that’s the main reason we think he’s got a cold coming on, but I think most of his crying tonight was from not knowing how to fart (30%), being tired (50%) and the cold (20%).

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Diane wants Victor to have his first haircut. I told her he has to have sideburns. My brother and step-father have no sideburns, and I think it looks freakish… freakish in a Billy Bob Thornton in “Slingblade” kind of way.

I showed Diane some photos and she agreed. Our son keeps his sideburns no matter what. Victor’s hair is getting long, but I want it to fill out a bit more before we start hacking away at it. I suggested we let it grow so Victor can have a Justin Bieber hairdo.

For the past week I’ve been calling Victor “Victor Bieber”… it actually sounds a lot better than Justin. Victor Bieber seems to get a kick out of the new name. But the boy also smiles like a maniac when I’m banging out Tom Petty’s “American Girl” on my desk.

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Victor Bieber, Diane and I also had lunch with some blog friends this past weekend. We met Susan, who blogs as KnitNut, and her boyfriend at Shawarma King in Ottawa.

As I’ve said many times, on many blogs, Susan is one of my favourite bloggers, so it was great to see her again.

Shawarma King has always been one of my favourite restaurants, and Diane got hooked on halal meats while she was pregnant. Victor Bieber had his first taste of shawarma. He was very impressed.

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Victor Bieber’s first real birthday is coming in two weeks — I think this is when all the monthly birthdays are supposed to stop meaning so much. So far the plan is to have mid-afternoon cake and coffee with some friends and a few pieces of Diane’s family.

My grandfather has no problem calling Diane to invite himself over to visit with Victor Bieber, so he called and came over this week. He and Victor spent an hour together at the kitchen table.

We showed my grandfather — also named Victor — all of our son’s new tricks. My grandfather was thrilled to see Victor crawl, but he laughed hardest when Victor started playing self-fetch with his red car. Victor will crawl towards his car, or his ball, and when he reaches out to grab it, he’ll flick it further away, then laugh and crawl to his car… hence: self-fetch.

At one point they pressed their foreheads together for what had to be a solid minute. There are times when the two of them are together when I think my grandfather could cry.

This was at least one of them. Maybe two. Victor Bieber.

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Photo Of Victor’s Week:

Meeting Victor at Shawarma King in Ottawa

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Bonus Photo Of Victor’s Week:

Victor and the balloon

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