Little locomotive

Warning: The baby in this video may be closer than he appears.

Have baby, will travel

Whew. What a trip.
Our vacation in Maine included a wedding, a baby shower, a birthday dinner, four different stays with three different friends/relatives, and a madcap day of Kingfield Days festivities. Could we have crammed more into our trip? Sure. Would we have survived? Doubtful.
There are some cardinal rules for vacationing with an infant, and I think we broke nearly every one. The first: travel light. Tibetan sherpas have trekked up Mt. Everest with less gear than we took north. Stroller? Check. Car seat? Check. Pack-n-play? Check. Add two suitcases, an overnight bag and a diaper bag, and you can see why the time spent checking our bags caused flight delays up and down the East Coast.
Kasper turned out to be as good at air travel as he is in the car: he fell asleep before takeoff, flirted with the flight attendant before deplaning and did not try to disarm the lavatory smoke detector. We couldn't have been prouder.
Our first stop in Maine was a small dinner party with some of Meaghan's friends, including his buddy Paul, who is a couple months older than Kasper but is light-years ahead in the hair-growing department. Grandpa and Mema — that's Grandma Rynne's alter-ego — were also vacationing in Maine and had a chance to lavish love and a new wardrobe on the boy.
We spent that night with Chris and Becky and lounged the next day by their pool, the unofficial northern HQ of the Kasper Fan Club. They can't get enough of the kid. Kasper loves Uncle Chris' funny faces and noises (I'll pass on that joke; too easy).
The next three nights were spent in the newly-redone upstairs bedroom at my parents' house in Kingfield. Then it was back to Minot for a night before staying in Portland with friends Amy and Blaine. After hauling that damn Pack-n-Play up and down the Western Maine corridor and setting it up five times, I realized we'd broken Rule No. 2: let the relatives come to you.
But Kingfield is hard to resist —— and when it's Kingfield Festival Days, it's simply impossible. We took in the Quilt Show —— my Aunt Ruth's entries were amazing; she must have been quilting like a woman possessed the past 12 months —— and scored some free hot dogs. And everywhere we went, Kasper's rep preceded him. Apparently, his Grammie puts his picture on her computer desktop at the elementary school each time I post one. So six months in, he's already conquered Kingfield. Next up, the world.
Being at Grammie and Grampy's was a special treat for Kasper, since they share his penchant for getting up at the crack of dawn. And he and his Grampy both love afternoon naps and funny hats. They certainly never lacked for things to jabber on about.
We also saw the Stanley kids — growing like weeds, I'm happy to report —— and Adam's daughter Hannah, who at 4 has become quite the little conversationalist. She told us she liked Kasper's "soft skin and his little baby toes." What a cutie.
Adam's second daughter is due next month; he and wife Michelle were showered with gifts on Saturday. When she arrives, she'll no doubt be cute and super-clean; they must have gotten a dozen bath towels in the boatload of gifts they took home.
Our return flight Tuesday was equally smooth, until I went to get the car at Dulles and found out the remote for the car alarm died on the trip. It took two shuttle trips and a few hours of sitting in the airport before we got in touch with the dealership and learned how to activate the manual override, i.e., push the mysterious black button we'd never found a use for.
And that's it. We're back home now. Our families still far away, and that's still no fun, but we got to see a lot of them and that helps. Kasper seemed to like Maine — I guess it's in his blood — and he really loved meeting all his cousins. Next time we visit he'll be able to run and play with all of them. We can't wait. And I've already made a list of all the things we're not going to pack.

Saving some for later

Are you sure you're ready for this, Mainers?

Cat by the tail

Break out your calculators, because we have some numbers to crunch after Kasper's six-month checkup. A diet heavy in cat tail has Kasper weighing in at 23 pounds, 4 ounces, meaning 90 percent of all babies run in abject terror when he comes their way. He's 27 3/4 inches long, good for another 90-percent score, and his head is 18 inches in diameter: 93%.

Love at first bite?

Not exactly. Kasper took his first bite of solid food today — if that horrid rice cereal can really be called 'solid.' I taste-tested it first, and Kasper's reaction is spot on. It's terrible. Our second encounter with 'big boy food' later in the day went much better, so there's hope.

Over the last few days Kasper has started making a new sound — a constant stream of 'ma ma ma' sounds. Standing in his crib, playing on the floor, taking a bath, it's ma-ma-this and ma-ma-that. It never stops. But I'm not conceeding anything. 'Ma' is not a word, it's just a vocalization. But obviously, the boy and I have a lot of work to do. We start practicing our da-da-das tomorrow.

½

Halfway through Year 1, Kasper is a happy, boisterous baby who just loves to drool all over his own toes (and who doesn't, really?). Once he figured out how to sit up, Kasper immediately moved on to hauling himself up using the side of his crib. Now when I get up in the morning he's often standing up and waiting for me. He's still a chunky baby -- 21 pounds or so at last check -- and he still has a lot of cheek and little hair, but we see him grow up a little bit every day. But six months -- that went too quickly. It still feels like we just brought him home.

A boy and his dad - the story has just begun

"Someone is sitting in the shade today because someone planted a tree a long time ago." -- Warren Buffet

(Note: I'm hijacking the blog today. Your regular eloquent blogger will return soon and so will new photos of Kasper, if he can hold still long enough for us to take one. ~Meaghan)

There is so much power in one (relatively) tiny baby. Kasper has transformed Patrick into a father. This blog is an ongoing testament to just how much one dad can love one kid, but it only scratches the surface. There's the adoration in Pat's voice when he come home and talks to his "little fella". The way he rushes home for "guy's night" when I go to work. The secret language the two of them are developing. The way they sit on the couch and laugh and laugh and laugh. His pride when we're out and anyone comments on Kasper. It's truly amazing. I'm not the writer in this family, so I won't try to make my words as beautiful as his. I'll just say Happy Father's Day - your son and wife love you so much!

Kasper also had the power to single-handedly transform my father into a grandfather. He's doing a great job. We're lucky to have him and Grampa George!

As for the rest of the dads out there, thank you. In the last six months, we have seen how tough your jobs can be and we haven't even reached potty-training, learning to ride a bike or asking to borrow the car. We bow to your collective wisdom.