Fatherhood Adventures

The baby of the house seems to have discovered his voice.

This revelation has made life a little more frenzied of late because the sounds that come from Carson, now 4 months young, are quite unique.

This is sensitive territory to chart here, but the fact is his first sounds are different than any I have ever heard from a baby.

As his parents, we naturally marveled over the first sounds he made other than crying a couple months ago. However, it’s been interesting to observe as he babbles more and more and in a higher tone how our feelings have been adjusted a bit. The fact is it seems like he’s being tortured when he makes sounds.

The best way to describe this is it’s a voice that only a parent could love.

What he produces vocally resembles something between an animal in pain and a needle being haphazardly moved across a vinyl record. If you were not in the room and you heard him doing his thing, it would send you sprinting to him out of fear he was in pain. Rather, instead of finding him with his finger bent in the wrong direction or something along those lines, as you would expect to accompany this sort of sound, he is found amidst a full belly laugh. It’s the strangest thing.

Besides being a bit bizarre, what this odd sound does is create a fine line between a cry and happiness. He gives us reason to pause on many occasions because oftentimes we do not know if he’s unhappy at some point or just tickled by something. This leaves Pam and I constantly asking each other: “Was that a cry?”

What’s strange is he often makes these sounds in his sleep. I presume he’s talking, or his version of it, while asleep. The cutest thing is when he laughs hard while completely out, leaving me to wonder what at 4 months old he finds so funny. It’s probably just gas. No matter what, coming across a baby giggling in his sleep is a beautiful thing, even if it does sound a bit abnormal.

A hug from a kid is something special, but I have to laugh at how my oldest son goes about it.

Beckett, who turns 22 months old today, has a unique hug. He has two different versions – the one that resembles a tackle and another that’s more like a lean or maybe a slight cuddle.

Since it’s his nature to be rough and forceful in most aspects of life, one must be prepared when you hit a knee and ask for a hug from my toddler. I have nobody to blame but myself.

You see, when he was younger, there was a little game we played. I would extend my arms out wide, shout ‘you better get over here’ and he would run across the room, field or beach to me. I would fake that he knocked me over, pulling him down atop me and we would laugh and laugh.

He still loves this, but now it’s a little different story when he gets a head of steam going. He now weighs over 30 pounds and has no concept of pain or fear. There’s no more faking being knocked over. It’s a legitimate decking.

In an effort to cut down on being toddler tackled, I have started asking for a hug when I am holding him or at least close by. What he does is he extends one arm, puts it on my shoulder and then rests his head on that shoulder. He will usually keep one arm free, presumably for an opportunity to escape.

Before I have any time to enjoy the moment, however, he’s pushing on my chest to get away so he can move on to something else, surely something a little more entertaining than hugging dad.

Either way, I will take it, but, clearly, the one that does not involve a collision after a 10-yard sprint is preferred.

It’s all about colors right now in Beckett’s world.

Call me a doting parent, but I am pretty impressed he has learned most colors and is always happy to demonstrate his new ability.

Coincidence or not, his favorite color seems to be green, or “geeeen” to him. At Little Kickers last weekend, his obsession with the color took on a new meaning.

As soon as we took the field, I noticed what I knew was going to become an issue. There was a mom and daughter dressed in matching green sweat suits. For different reasons, it grabbed each of our attention. Before I knew it, Beckett had rambled across the field and was immediately touching the little girl’s shoulder and patting the mom on the thigh. He was fixated on them the entire class.

At first, it was cute. He would walk up to the little girl, touch her and scream, “geeeen” and then do the same to the mom. This repeated itself throughout the session and eventually the girl became a little exasperated. She had clearly had enough of this blond-haired annoyance.

Continual attempts to distract him and encourage him to actually kick a soccer ball, for heaven’s sake, while he was there proved futile. All he was interested in was showing off his color skills. Although he knows many colors, on this particular day he was fixated the one that happens to share his last name.

All this incessant poking and screaming eventually led to the little girl pushing Beckett down. The mom apologized profusely, while my son giggled. Before I could even tell her it’s okay and that I should probably apologize to her, Beckett was back up with his pointer finger extended, poking the girl and saying, “geeeen.”

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