Dear Asher,

It seems like it was just yesterday that we were bringing you home from the hospital, and here it is 10 amazing months later – the most incredible 10 months of my life. Watching you grow up and learn new things each day is a blessing, and the past month has been the best yet.

You recently figured out that daddy’s toys are much cooler than your own toys. You’re no longer interested in your blocks, books, and other countless toys. You’ve discovered the magic of Daddy’s TV remote control. Whenever I’m watching TV, you come at me like a spider monkey, trying to get the remote out of my hands so you can play with it. We even took one of our spare remotes that looks IDENTICLE to the real one and gave it to you as a toy, but you just laughed, tossed the dummy remote across the room, and looked at us like we were idiots. Now when I watch TV, I have to hide the remote under a pillow, out of sight so you won’t attack me. I’ve also recently discovered a major drawback to having a media cabinet that doesn’t have doors. You love the lights on the dish and surround sound receivers, and your favorite thing in the world right now is to turn the volume knob as far (and loud) as it will go – I am deaf now. And it’s not only the TV remotes that you’re obsessed with. It’s also my laptop, iPod, alarm clock, guitars, watches, shoes, sunglasses, water bottles, and especially the dishwasher. You are utterly mesmerized by the dishwasher. You’re always trying to crawl up in it like it’s some sort of cool carnival ride. I can’t quite figure out the fascination, but I hope it lasts until you’re old enough to actually do some dishes.

Your Granma recently gave us a great gift – Asher Jail. It consists of about 8 pieces of plastic wall that fit together to form an enclosed pen. We can put you in there with a butt-load of toys and you are in heaven. We don’t have to worry about you crawling into the dishwasher or going for a swim in the toilet because you can’t escape from the plastic wonderland that is Asher Jail. I am not looking forward to the day you figure out that you’re actually trapped…

Paris wishes she’ll have it this easy…

You’ve recently developed a hideous expression we’ve come to know as ‘huffy-face’. When you get really excited about something and determined to crawl towards it, you morph into a raging asthmatic. You’re face scrunches up like an old man and you start wheezing and huffing like mad. It’s really not all that cute… in fact it’s kind of scary. We’ve got some great video of it, but I hope you grow out of the huffy-face phase pretty quick.

Child-proofing has re-commenced in full force. You’re favorite thing in the world (other than riding in the dishwasher) is to open every cabinet in the house and proceed to pull out EVERYTHING you can get your hands on. I figured it was a real problem the other day when I found you sipping on a bottle of drain-o like it was a martini… I kid, I kid… but you do like to get into the cleaning supplies under the sink. So, I installed child safety locks on all the cabinets in the house. It was a major pain-in-the-ass! I don’t know if I had the wrong kind or what, but they were almost impossible to install. And even now, every time I go to open a cabinet, I forget about the stupid child locks and get a jolt as the lock catches and rips my fingers off.

Does this classify as an eating disorder?

Having a kid is a huge adjustment for anyone, but I never thought the adjustment would be so much fun. It’s so strange to think about my own childhood and how my parents must have gone through all the same experiences and emotions. I can only pray that one day you will have children of your own and be able to feel the amazing emotions that I’ve had over the last 10 months…

Love,
Papa