Fun with Darby

Darby's growing fast.

A couple days ago, Casey was upset because Darby was trying to use a plastic radio with the dragon castle.  (How cool are kids' toys, by the way?)  I played along and told Darby that the radio doesn't go with the castle, it goes with the car carrier, and do you know where your car carrier is?  Darby stared at me for a second, then turned around and toddled away.  A minute later he came back, car carrier in his arms.  I applauded him.  As Erika observed, Darby knows English!  Then he began to cry because he couldn't lift it onto the coffee table.

Darby dances, too.  Casey never really did that so much, but Darby has an instinct for it.  Yesterday, during one of the many, many sessions of Rock Band that Darby demands (I typically turn failure off and let him beat on the drums at random while the notes scroll by), he took a break from drumming, stood in front of the TV, and bopped up and down, grinning.  That's only slightly new.  Erika tells me that on their latest trip to Indiana (I missed this one), Darby at some point approached the stereo, cranked up the volume, and then began rocking out in the same fashion.  I think she'd have found it a lot cuter if Darby hadn't chosen a Cher song that she hates.

Last night Darby needed some entertaining for a few minutes, and he needed bedtime badly.  I looked around for some way to keep him occupied, and when the objects most ready to hand turned out to be plastic balls, I remembered how much Casey liked juggling when he was that age.  So I started juggling for Darby, who started waving his hands excitedly, trying to catch the balls in the air.  Then I let him have a turn.  He carefully picked up one ball in each hand, thought about it for a while, braced one against his chest so he'd have a hand free, and then he picked up the third ball.  So with all three balls cradled on his chest, he stopped again, thought for a while about what to do next, and then he threw all the balls on the floor.  He stood there, clapping and smiling, so very proud of himself.

I'm proud, too.  But I'm also surprised he finds time to develop these talents between meals.  There are so many meals.

Twas the Night Before Christmas (aka 2009 Year in Review)

Twas the night before Christmas, and the Delaneys were dancing,

to Jingle Bell Rock while reindeer were prancing.

We were kicking it up and taking our cues

from Grandma, Papa, Cousin Taylor, and Aunt Sus.

In Washington state, we dined on a polish feast,
With special kielbasa shipped in from out east.
Of all who were gathered, Darby seemed to eat most,
While Casey refused anything but PBJ on toast.

Then the stockings were taped to a window in haste,

A plate of Santa's cookies, the kids nearly laid waste.

When finally sleeping were one girl and two boys,

We settled right down to the assembly of toys.

After seeing how loud the siren really blows,

Chris doused Erika with the fire truck's hose.

Then Susan attempted Taylor's Sit and Spin,

but found that a grown-up just can't win.

Having tested the loot, bellies full of pierogies,

We envisioned our future, many nights such as these.

A cup of tea in hand, children safely all tucked,

I had a few moments to ponder such luck.

The year 2009 had begun with some unrest.
Where it would take us, we couldn't have guessed.
Chris knew his employment would come to an end,
He had leads to follow and resumes to send.

Meanwhile Darby was just a babe of eight weeks
With ten tiny toes and four chubby cheeks.
As sweet as could be, but he cried all day long.
We comforted him with endless bouncing and song.

Sleeping hardly a wink, still we persevered,
As the economy tanked and job ads disappeared.
But Chris's mom's friend's brother-in-law came through,
And he departed to Madison for a day-long interview.

Then one day in March the phone rang with a clatter;
I sprang to the desk to see what was the matter.
In the happiest voice, Chris gave me the news:
He had an offer in hand and knew what to choose.

Then he burst through the door, to us all gave a whistle,
And to Wisconsin we flew like the down on a thistle.
Well, not quite. We had many, many boxes to pack,
Much more than would fit in one little sack.

We played one last softball game and said our goodbyes,
And as we drove from Minnesota, I tried not to cry.
Once the moving truck had deposited our freight,
We set out to explore what would be our home state.

Chris loved his new job, Darby stopped crying,
and the cats settled in without even trying.
Casey resisted till he discovered the zoo,
Then he came around and decided this would do.

We spent the summer putting new parks to the test,
trying the farmer's market, State Street, and the giant brat fest.
We interspersed these with not one, and not two,
but dozens more trips to the aforementioned zoo.

This year took Darby from first smiles to walking;
Before we know it, this kid will be talking.
Casey learned to be a caring big brother;
Now Darby will follow the example of no other.

This strange land called Wisconsin with all of its dairy
Feels more like home and a place we might tarry.
As 2010 begins, our prospects look bright,
With the closing on a new house coming into sight.

Now wishing you this as I strain for one last rhyme:
Many reasons to smile as you sing Auld Lang Syne.
To friends old and new, family far flung and more near,
Merry Christmas to all, and a happy new year.

Bones

"Daddy, I have bones!" Casey announced.

"What?" I feigned amazement. "Where do you have bones?" I asked.

He pointed to himself.  "In there!"

"Yep, they're in there, all right," I said.

"They hurt Mommy!" he continued.

Apparently he's been doing lots of climbing over his mother lately, and she's been giving him speeches about how sharp his elbows and knees are.

Casey loves his Christmas presents

Erika finally had to draw the line: "No more fire truck until you eat breakfast."

Snow Day!

They say we have 12-18 inches already, and it's still snowing (although it looks pretty light right now). It was 32 degrees when we got up this morning, and the temperature is supposed to plummet today. I thought we could go play in the snow for a bit before it got too cold, but there's a really a biting wind. We only stayed out for a few minutes, long enough to see that there's no way we're getting out of our parking lot until it's plowed. Then Casey wanted to go back inside, and we had some cocoa. Chris is working from home, so we're all safe and warm. And it looks like the snow will stop today, and then there will be a couple days of decent weather for the state to clean up before we have to fly out on Saturday.





Darby was a little better sport about being outside today. That kid's up for anything.

Darby's First Haircut

The new haircut makes Darby look so much more like a little boy now. That, and he's not nursing anymore, and he's toddling around everywhere with sudden confidence--he's so grown up all of a sudden!

By the way

a belated happy Thanksgiving!

We had a nice trip to see my folks in Indiana. Fun was had. Mistakes were made. Lessons were learned, as follows:

1. The correct egg nog-to-Bailey's ratio is not half and half. That's what they get for letting me be bartender. I eyeballed the situation, and figured that half a jingle bell mug was about equal to one shot. Everybody else thought that was a really bad call and let me hear about it for the rest of the night. Talk about drunk and disorderly! It was as if this was the worst batch of mixed drinks anybody had ever made in the history of getting wasted. I didn't think it was that bad.

2. Don't put your 3-year-old in the middle of a merry-go-round and trust that he'll remain stable while you spin it. I won't name names, but let's just say it was one of Casey's parents, and it wasn't me! Casey shifted, lost his balance, and succumbed to the centrifugal forces. He wasn't injured, but he landed on his face and got a full mouthful and a noseful of playground dirt. His tongue was so caked that we couldn't be sure he still had a tongue. Poor kiddo was so unhappy. Then he sneezed, and ... well, I'll spare you the grisly details. But suffice to say, we had no tissues with us, and there was one mitten that had to go into the washer immediately after we got back to the house.

3. Never go looking for a gas station in rural Indiana. On our journey home, we didn't realize we were so low on gas until we had passed the point of civilization. Our GPS told us the best option was five miles off the highway in a little town (if you can call it that) named Thorntown. In the spot where it told us Joe's Marathon would be was a hollowed-out carcass of a building with a few ancient-looking pumps outside. We drove around a little, thinking every small town, no matter how microscopic, must have a functional gas station. Not true. So I ran into a convenience store, where an employee told me the nearest gas station was about six miles further into the cornfields, in Dover. Thankfully we made it before hitting empty. But Chris complained that the whole experience hearkened a little too close to the plot of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Not to complain too much. Sure, Darby ran a fever between 101 and 102 the entire long weekend, and it took us 10 hours to make it back to Madison. But dinner was fantastic, family was all around, and my Mom took the kids so that we could sleep in a few times. And, we have much to be thankful for this year. I hope everyone had as good a holiday as we did.