Oliver has had his bottom two front teeth for quite some time already, but those top two just won’t bust through. It’s got to take place any day now. I mean, it just has to.
God love the boy, but I’m tired of hearing that darn whiny, “I’m-in-pain” voice. I feel bad for the kid, too. It has to hurt, and I don’t blame him for complaining.
The pain has been waking Oliver up at odd hours during the night, cutting his nap time down drastically, and made him just, generally, fussy. And he’s not a fussy baby. He’s the calmest, most relaxed baby I’ve ever seen … just not these past couple of days.
You may be wondering where we’ve been the past week. Well, Thursday we headed down to Springfield, Mo., to visit my parents (Oliver’s grandparents). We got a late start on the drive, and Oliver went into a crying fit around 9 p.m. in the middle of nowhere. Since he’s usually so calm, we were pretty concerned. We pulled off the highway in some small town about an hour past Rolla in I-44. There were crazy locals everywhere, making noises and walking around with cups in their hand (I swear the one guy was a bum, but Sarah thinks he was a McDonald’s employee). Anyway, we hit the road again quick and a bottle of milk held the boy off for the rest of the trip.
During the vacation, we spent Friday at nearby Silver Dollar City, Saturday at the local Cider Fest street festival and Sunday relaxing. Oliver’s grandparents were so amazed by how big our little boy has become over the past two months. They fawned over him the entire weekend. It was pretty cool.
Anyway, below are a few pictures and a short video from our trip to Silver Dollar City. Enjoy.
Here’s a video of my dad and I at the start of the new PowderKeg ride (we’re in the third row). This ride was FAST (and a bit scary).
Here are Sarah and my dad (I’m on the left, but apparently my mom didn’t line us all into the frame) getting ready for WildFire, a crazy-fast and scary ride with numerous tight loops. I think I didn’t breath until halfway through the ride.
Here we are getting ready for the train ride (Oliver’s first ride). He seemed to enjoy punching us all in the face more than the actual show (if you’ve been before, you know the routine: train stops “unexpectedly,” two guys hold up the passengers, etc.).
A total coincidence, I swear, but Oliver’s attire matched the scarecrows on display throughout the park.
And finally, here’s Oliver with his grandparents next two a “tree” made entirely of fake pumpkins.
No, I don’t have pinkeye. I just made homemade salsa the other day.
OK, let me explain. I was chopping up all the goodies for some homemade salsa, and the last items were jalepenos. Well, that oil stays on your hands. And stays on your hands. And stays on your hands. …
With a baby in the house, plus a dog, plus being a generally clean person by nature, I probably washed my hands at least 10 times prior to taking out my contacts that evening. Well, just a touch is all it took. My eyes turned read and started watering and itching.
I threw that pair out and put a fresh pair in the next day. And mind you, that was after probably five or six more hand washes and a shower. Well, same thing. Just putting the new contacts into my eyes was enough to set me off. They’re still red and sore today. I think the next time I’m chopping up jalepenos, I’m going to wear gloves.
“I’m not that worried about his large head, because his dad has a big head as well.”
That, or something close to it, is what Oliver’s doctor told us today during his 6-month checkup appointment. She was taking his measurements, got his head circumference and went over to her table to write the number down. After making a puzzled expression, she came back over and measured it again. Same number. She double-checked her chart. Then she told us about his enlarged melon.
“His head is above the 97th percentile, which can be cause for worry,” she told us.
“Big heads run in Justin’s family,” my loving wife chimed in, as they both gawked at my freakishly large head.
Then I joined in the fun.
“My head’s probably the runt of the Lopinot men,” I explained.
Nothing to worry about. That’s what we were told. He has a big head, and big heads run in the family. End of story.
Seven years ago today, at a happy hour-gone-long, I mustered up the courage to meet Sarah at Helen Fitzgerald’s in South County. I won’t go into a lot of details (check out past issues of St. Louis’ Best Bridal magazine or STLtoday.com’s bridal page on the Way Back Machine if you haven’t heard this already and give a damn). I will, however, state the obvious: My life has never been the same. And that’s a good thing.
I now have a beautiful wife, an awesome son, a quirky (and annoying) dog, a cool house, a master’s degree and so many other things I could have never imagined. So really, who gives a crap drama at work and other non-importantissues. Life’s about family, and that — kind of — makes me feel better about things.
Last night, we partied like it was early 2007. Yes, we had our first Oliver-free night. I obtained a pair of tickets to the Arch Rivalry game (Mizzou vs. Illinois) at the Dome, so we asked Sarah’s parents to watch the boy overnight. To my surprise, they took us up on the offer with no hesitation.
After our near-tearful departure from our child, we headed downtown. It took a while to find the right spot, but we tailgated with a work group before the game. That was fun, but the game was, well, “funner.”
The crowd was extremely loud. My head ached as I fought off claustrophobia and we crammed into the building. Here’s a picture of people awaiting the turnstiles:
That’s a pretty good visual, but to get a sense of the loudness, check out this short video:
So here’s a question for you … Who has the toughest job when his team scores 52 points? Well, it’s the Mizzou mascot of course. That’s because he does one push-up for every point on the scoreboard when the team scores. Here he’s on about No. 45:
And finally, here’s a picture of happy Mommy and Daddy at the game (the night went well, in case you were wondering, and Oliver’s now back with us all safe and sound and snug into this own bed for the night):