I meant to post these pictures on Monday, but between Jason getting sick and a particularly busy week at my office, I just couldn't find the time. I know, "Excuses, excuses." In any case, here's what I have from last weekend's photos:

We went to a new park in Liberty Station on Saturday:

We got some lunch at a seafood place nearby:

Then after we ate, I took some pictures of the Point Loma marina:

The rest of the set:

Dinnertime has been an an interesting example of Jason's development lately. On the one hand, he's becoming more adept with his utensils and his aim is also improving, which means that a much higher percentage of his food actually makes it into his mouth. On the other hand, he's more or less decided that he's done with bibs and knows how to remove them on his own. The net effect is that by the end of dinner every night his chest and lap are covered with food. We usually deal with that by just stripping him down after the meal, which is fine anyway because there's usually less than fifteen minutes to go until his bathtime.

Tonight went more or less as usual in that regard, though Jason did jump the gun a bit and started trying to get his shirt off before he was finished eating. After he was done and I took him out of the chair and got his pants off, he started complaining about his diaper. Juliette glanced down and, sure enough, it was sagging heavily between his legs. Still, he hadn't pooped and his bath was just a few minutes off--it seemed like a waste to put a brand new diaper on him at that point.

Of course, while we were discussing our options, Jason decided to take matters into his own hands. He managed to slide the diaper halfway down his butt before we noticed, and although we initially wanted him to leave it on, we quickly relented and helped him get it all the way off, leaving him naked except for his right sock.

"No wonder he wanted it off," said Juliette, hefting the diaper in one hand. "This is the heaviest diaper you've ever had, buddy."

"Is this a good idea?" I asked. "What if he starts peeing?"

"Well, we'll just have to wipe it up," she replied.

You can all see where this is going.

Jason was overjoyed about his newfound freedom and immediately scampered off to the living room with a shout of glee. Juliette peeked over the couch to find him digging around in his toybox. "Mike, look how cute!" she cried. "You have to take a picture of this."

I hemmed a bit about the light being bad but grabbed the camera anyway. I was just entering the living room when Juliette let out a little shriek.  "He's peeing!" she laughed. I glanced down and, sure enough, there was a little puddle growing by his feet. What's more, he managed to pee through the wicker of his toybox, spraying all the toys inside.

Being dog owners on top of being parents, we've gotten pretty good at cleaning up messes on our carpet. There's always a bottle of Nature's Miracle under our sink these days, and a mini-carpet shampooer in the closet. On balance, not really that big a deal. It certainly livened up the evening a bit, though. I just hope Jason isn't heading into a little nudist phase, or else this scene might become more common than I'd prefer.

Juliette volunteered to work her school's booth at the 2010 San Diego EarthFair, so we decided to make an afternoon out of it.  Jason and I walked around while Juliette was working, and after her shift was over we got some lunch and hung out.

It was pretty crowded:

Some people were very opinionated:

Others had somewhat questionable fashion sense:

In the end, we had a pretty good time:

And here are the rest of this week's set:

One of my favorite parts of fatherhood is hearing Jason laugh. Fortunately for me, he laughs a lot. He laughs in the bath, he laughs in the car, he laughs at the dinner table. It's not all laughs, of course, he talks and whines and yells and cries, too. But the great thing is that no matter how worked up he might get, he's never too far from laughing again.

Interestingly, Jason seems to have started developing a real sense of humor lately as well. He learned the word "funny" a week or two ago and since then whenever he finds something amusing he not only laughs but also announces loudly that it's funny. More than that, he also understands "not funny." And when you stop and think about it, it's kind of amazing that a person so young and inexperienced with the world can grasp such a slippery concept. Or maybe it's not. After all, most people can discern whether or not something is funny, even if we can't explain why.

As much as I'm fascinated by Jason's continued development, there is one small down side. An example from a car ride this past weekend is illustrative:

Juliette: (sneezes)

Jason: (laughs) Mommy funny!

Juliette: (laughs) Is Mommy funny?

Jason: Funny!

Me: Is Daddy funny?

Jason: No.

Story of my life...

Jason managed to drown Juliette's phone this past weekend, but fortunately she was due for an upgrade anyway. One feature of the new phone that she's been enjoying is the ability to record video:

To commemorate the last day of her spring break, we decided to take a trip to the zoo. We have a membership there, which is nice because it means we can just pop in for an hour or two and spend a longer time at just a few exhibits, rather than rushing to try to see the whole park. In any case, we had a good time:

Juliette, Jason, and I were in Virginia this past week, visiting my mom and stepdad. Now, I could go ahead and tell you all the details of what we did, where we went, and what we ate. (I swear I gained five pounds on this trip.) I'm told, though, that a picture is worth a thousand words, and I think that this one nicely sums up the whole experience:

What I love about this photo is the unbridled joy on Jason's face. It's a sight that I got to see a lot over the past week, which was a wonderful thing. But as I look at it now, I can't help but feel a little sad as well.

I had been a bit anxious leading up to this trip about how Jason would react to his grandparents. After all, he'd only met my mom a few times, and my stepdad only once, when he was just a few weeks old. Of course, he's a pretty outgoing little guy and very adaptible, and Juliette and I would be there to give him an anchor, but still, we were going to be in a strange place, seeing people that he mostly didn't know. I wondered what I'd do if he couldn't sleep at their house, or if he decided he didn't like being there, never really coming up with any answers.

It turns out I needn't have worried. Jason took to my parents and their house right away. He fussed, of course, but mostly because we wouldn't let him climb up and down the stairs as much as he wanted. By the third night, he was asking for "Gamma" to read him his bedtime story, something he normally wants Juliette to do. And on the plane ride home, he repeated over and over, "Gappa, Ay-go. Gappa, Ay-go." (For those of you who don't speak toddler, that's "Grandpa, San Diego.")

And that gets to the reason for my present bittersweet feelings. It's always nice to come home and to resume the familiar routines of my life. I know that Jason will respond well to being back on his regular schedule. But it broke my heart a little to hear Juliette trying to explain to him that, no, Grandma and Grandpa live in Virginia, not San Diego. He never seemed to quite grasp the idea that they'd be far away, but I'm not sure whether that makes it better or worse. Jason is, like all small children, a creature of the moment, and things don't have to be out of sight for long for him to be onto the next.

This is something I've struggled with a lot over the past couple of years. San Diego is where our life is now. Our careers and wonderful friends are here, and we've begun to put down some real roots. But the closest of Jason's grandparents, aunts, and uncles lives 450 miles away--the ones we just left are on the other side of the country. It's important to me that he have a relationship with his family, but with everyone so far away, it's hard to see how that can happen, at least not in the same way that I had when I was young. Juliette keeps reassuring me that the distance might make things different, but not necessarily worse--after all, she grew up 3000 miles away from her grandparents and still managed to have a very close relationship with them. I still can't help but feel sad, not so much for Jason, but for the rest of the family for not being able to see him as often as we'd like. In the end, he'll hardly remember this part of his life, if at all, and what will stay with him will be times that come later. But I know that now is a time that will always be special in my memories, and I'm sorry that so many of the people that are important to me won't get the same time with him as I do.

While I was visiting, I helped my mom pick out and set up a new computer, and got her a Skype account while I was at it. I'm hoping that regular video chat sessions will help keep Gamma and Gappa fresh in Jason's mind. It's not the same as a trip to see them, but it's what I can do for now. My question for you is this: if you've raised kids far from your family, or if you grew up far from your parents' families, how did you deal with it? Were you able to overcome the distance?

I hope to hear from you.

It's almost 1 AM, I'm flying tomorrow, and my laptop has just about run out of batteries, but I've been a total slacker about writing since I've been on vacation and I know you are all dying for an update. I'll give a real update on Wednesday, but until then, here are some photos to tide you over:

Click through to see the rest of the March and April galleries. See you Wednesday!

Juliette has been out of town for the last few days, which meant that Jason and I got to spend the weekend together by ourselves. Mainly in order to keep Jason occupied (and therefore not cranky), we went out a lot.

We went to the carwash:

And the park:

And the La Jolla Cove:

And even the zoo:

A good time was had by all.

The rest of this week's set:

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Of course, if you're just kind of so-so about Sakeriver or don't feel like helping out, that's cool too. I'm just glad that you're here at all.

This is the conversation Jason and I had just now, coming back from lunch:

Me: "Boo!"

Jason: "No!"

M: "No?"

J: "No."

M: "Yes."

J: "No!"

M: "Yes!"

J: "Nnnnnnnno!"

M: "Yyyyyes!"

[This continues for another 4 minutes or so.]

J: "No!"

M: "Yes."

J: "NNNNN..."

M: "Yes."

J: "...NNNNNNN..."

M: "Yes."

J: "...NNOOOOOOO!"

M: "Yes."

J: "Hot dog."

Jason has always loved bath time. He loves to splash and swish the water around with his feet and arms. He loves to play with his bath toys. He loves blowing bubbles and putting the washcloth on his head, then letting it slide off down his back or over his face.  And, unfortunately, he loves to drink his bath water.

The trouble is that Jason loves water. I mean, it's great that he loves water, but it has proven more or less impossible thus far to teach him the difference between drinking water and bath water. (Or pool water, or any other type of water, for that matter. It's a lucky thing that he knows he's not allowed to touch the toilets or we might be in real trouble.) And there are just so many things in the tub that he can use to carry the water to his lips. There's an actual cup, which we use to pour water over him when he needs rinsing, but he actually doesn't go for that one much. He drinks out of his hermit crab toy, his linker toys, and his rubber duckies. He even tries to suck the water out of the washcloth. Sometimes he just puts his face down and tries to drink straight from the tub, a feat that he's managing with greater and greater frequency to accomplish without subsequent spluttering and coughing. I'm sure that if he had a fox or a box in there, he'd drink with them, too.

Keeping him from his tasty treat requires constant vigilance on my part. I can't look away for more than a second without him going for it. I'm pretty sure it's become something of a game for him at this point, seeing if he can sneak a sip in when I'm not expecting it. So on any given night at bath time, you'd hear something like this coming from our hall bathroom:

"What is that, Jason? That's right, that's a ducky. Don't drink it. Yes, and those are keys. Can you point to the A, Jason? Good job! Don't drink it. Blech. OK, splashy splashy. Yes. Where's the B? Can you give the B to Daddy? Give the B to Daddy. Don't drink it. Can I have the B, Jason? Where's the B? Good job! Don't drink it. Are you going to blow bubbles now? Good bubbles, Jason! Don't drink it. No, we can watch Elmo tomorrow. Don't drink it. Sit down, please. Thank you. OK, time to get out. Don't drink it."

Even so, and even though I have to get down on my knees to scrub him, and even though it makes my back ache, I like bath time, too. It's one of the only times of the day when Jason is consistently in a good mood, and it's just adorable the way he smiles. Of course I'd like for him to be able to clean himself one of these days, but I know I'm going to miss this when it's over.