Doctor

It's back to the doctor's office, the Friday night after hours clinic as The Dragon Boss can't kick his wheeze. That means super veggie burriots from Papalote and a late bedtime for the little guy.

That's two visits in as many months for respiratory issues, as the doctor calls it. It's too early to declare it asthma. If he had asthma, it would sound like this, but if it is only a chest cold, then it would sound like this, too.

So we'll wait a few more months to see if he has the gentle lungs that Uncle Margarine had that would let him know about increased pollen, dust in the house or a sharp change in the weather. And if so, Uncle Margarine just might have a sit down with him over Thanskgiving and tell him just what to expect.

Little Bird

The Dragon Boss doesn't hang out with many girls. He and Rowan spend more of their waking hours together than Baleen and I do, and he sees Cooper on the occasional weekend. So when he hangs out with Henley, there doesn't seem to be much difference.

It's not like she's making it any easy for him to distinguish. Besides her pinks and reds, she's almost as tall as he is and drinks the same 8oz five times a day. If they're laying together on the floor and TDB doesn't get his hand up first to crawl all over her, then she doesn't waste any time in crawling over him.

Plus, when the meal's over, she gives back an ounce or two each time just like he does. As far as we can tell about what he can tell, there doesn't seem to be any difference. But he'll learn.

2074

I know what it'll feel like to be a 96 year old great-grandfather. After 120 minutes of soccer on Sunday afternoon, and 22 penalty kicks, we lost to El Farolito in the city championships. When I got down on the floor to look The Dragon Boss in the eye, I wasn't sure I'd be able to get back up.

I think I've got one more year of 11 a-side soccer at this level in me. When I walk around the office on Monday morning after chasing around 23 year olds the day before, I look like a spindly fawn just finding his legs. Papa says that by the end of his career in the German-American soccer league, which didn't happen until he passed 40, Grandma B used to say that Grandpa B took until Thursday to feel normal again. I think I'll call it quits before then.

But I do want TDB to see me play soccer sometime. Vanity, perhaps, but I'm pretty sure I remember seeing Papa playing a championship men's game in Tacoma when I was about five or six. I'm sure I was much more interested in the other kids there than watching the game on the field, but I do remember an injured Papa hobbling around until he won a penalty which he limped up to take and sent the keeper the wrong way before just barely getting enough strength in it to have it trickle over the line. Either that or he's told me about it enough times that I feel like I must have seen it.

Swings

I taught that boy everything he knows about swinging. Papa

Practically everybody had taken The Dragon Boss to the swings except me. Papa and Marmee put him in his first swing, taking him to both the 30th Street park and the Disneyland of city parks, Mission Dolores. Then Baleen took him to 30th Street on one of her days off. That left just me who hadn't pushed TDB in the swings and seen that big smile.

So we went swinging. The word is that the swings can get crowded in the Mission suburbs so we went early and found the whole row open. All the better to really get a good swing on I thought, while Baleen thought that TDB might not be as interested as supposedly, he likes to look at other, older children in the adjoining swings and do what they do.

But there was nothing to fear. TDB looked at the kids on the roundabout and let me push him as high as I wanted to, which seemed pretty high to me laying down on the spongy floor. But he wasn't bothered. He just kept his hand in his mouth and kept swinging.

Vermont

The Dragon Boss has never been to Vermont. It's one of the 45 states he hasn't visited (I've got time, dad, he keeps telling me). But when he does, he'll know just where to go.

There's a general store in Norwich called Dan & Whit's that everybody in the Upper Valley frequents. They sell cheddar cheese and maple syrup to out of towners like me and kersone and glass plates to the locals. After all, it's been there over 110 years.

But when he makes to to Norwich, he won't go straight to Dan & Whit's. That can wait. First, he needs to see Sargie and Dewey and their parents. Maybe it'll be January and the brothers can teach TDB a little pond hockey. I'm sure there's a pair of skates in TDB's size laying around the house somewhere.

Our Return

The Dragon Boss still loves us. He was asleep when we retuned late Sunday night. Pape and Marmee updated us on the four days of activity, including trips to Lowe's for blackout shades in his bedroom, Babies R' Us over in Marin and Nordstrom for more clothes. I mean, the little guy was almost in danger of wandering the streets of Noe Valley naked for want of clothing he's growing so fast.

When he woke up at 5.55am this morning, Baleen and I were in there in a flash. Papa and Marmee kept quiet in the front room, leaving the three of us to reaquaint ourselves without any confusion.

He was in one of his frequent wakening poses (face down, rear up in the air like a speed bump), making happy noises and rubbing his face in the sheets. We made happy noises, too, and when he turned to us, his smile disappeared. For three seconds he stared at us. That was a long three seconds. But then he broke out into a smile and all was well again in the Mission suburbs.

Schadenfreude

It's been peaches and cream so far in the Mission suburbs. Any hope Baleen and I had that our young son would just fall apart without us ended when we landed in Boston on Thursday evening to a half dozen videos and pictures on our iPhones. He was a-smiling in every one.

We didn't want him to suffer during our time apart, but we were hoping for just the tiniest indication that we were his favorite diaper cleaners and bathers. But it seems that if you read to him, take him on walks, and, most importantly, feed the growing boy five times a day, then he'll be kind for you, too.

Don't worry, I told Baleen, as she viewed the most recent smiling video. We're in this for the long haul.

Papa and Marmee

We've flown in the hired help. Actually, they've driven in. They were in Park City, a mere 12 hours and two large mountain ranges away, and we said, How about you drive on our here and take care of The Dragon Boss while we fly to Boston for a wedding?

We're in, they said, as I heard the car door close. Don't come just yet, I said. Not until you're really needed, at least. We'll take what we can get, they said.

So Papa and Marmee are here. It's like Christmas for them. For four whole days they get to be TDB's primary care giver, subject to a strict schedule printed out by Baleen. But they do have some discretion. Carrots or butternut squash, it's your choice, we told them.

Cod

There's still cod in the oceans (though one less than there was recently). You just have to look to the Pacific after Baleen and her forefathers nearly emptied it from the Atlantic.

Baleen took dinner duties last night, meaning I was in for a tasty treat along with a dozen pots and pans to clean. But when I exited TDB's room after feeding him and putting him down to sleep, dinner was ready and all the cleaning had already been done. Surprise, surprise.

I'd eat Pacific cod three days a week the way Baleen prepared it, provided somebody told me there aren't unsafe amounts of mercury in there. And soon, just a month of two from now, maybe TDB will have his first taste of cod, too.

Planes, Trains and Butternut Squash

Baleen's putting Gerber out of business. Our fridge is full of pureed portions of carrots and butternut squash, all part of introducing solid foods and developing The Dragon Boss' early taste buds. No preservatives, salt or sugar here in the Mission suburbs.

But if we're putting Gerber out of business, we're stuffing Clorox's coffers. It's messy business feeding an almost six month old. Of the four ounces we try to stuff down him, two make it in, one stays on his face and one all over his bib, or if we forget to put a bib on him, his outfit.

Which means that our washing machine is running almost as much as our baby blender. But it's worth it when TDB sits in that high chair and by about the third bite, starts reaching for the spoon.

High Chair

Baleen already wants to push pause and keep The Dragon Boss a mighty mite before the crawling and talking begins. Just hugs and wild arm swings for now, she says.

But TDB keeps growing and so do the purchases. Two days from now a high chair will arrive on our doorstep so TDB can have more than just bananas. Prepare for others besides TDB to start wearing bibs because the food will be a-flying in the Mission suburbs.

Also, don't use a pen to write our address in one of those old address books because Baleen is spending her free moments on CraigsList. Don't worry, we're not leaving the Mission suburbs anytime soon, it just doesn't make sense, but TDB's wandering ways have her a-scheming.

Commune

We now understand why Dario's Dad wants to start a commune. We spent a long weekend doing the things that we haven't done in months, like golf and bike, host a dinner for eight , and run along the craggy coastline.

Size matters here. Eight adults and four infants under one roof made it a whole lot easier, and a whole lot more fun, than two adults and one infant. The ratio got as low as 1:2, that's two adults to four infants, when the four dads were playing golf and Baleen and Rowan's mom played tennis. Except for that Saturday night when we stayed up to midnight playing 5 Questions and Celebrity, we all got just about enough sleep, too.

Now we have to hope that one of us makes it big and buys one of the Sea Ranch houses. But we're not picky. Bolinas, Stinson or Santa Cruz work just fine, too.