Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Neglect-O-Vision

Claire returned to work on Monday. This new era of child-raising (I won't say 'child-rearing' since Michael Jackson is too fresh in all of our minds right now) involves a somewhat complex shifting of schedules. Claire works mornings and early afternoons and I am on baby duty, then I bring the baby to work and dump, er, hand off the baby for her late afternoon shift while I get some work done on my papers and try to publish instead of perish.

The paternal grandparents gave us a video monitor (with infrared night vision!!) that I've installed over the crib. In the unlikely event that the baby ever sleeps (actually he's starting to get into a napping groove), we can leave the room, or even the whole 2nd floor, and get important adult things done while still keeping a close, concerned, and caring eye on our child. We call it Neglect-O-Vision.

There are now two different scenarios in which I will stare intently at and then talk to a TV screen:

1) The Redskins are about to bumble away another game: "Come on...come on...NO!"
2) The baby is starting to wake up and make fussy noises: "Come on...come on...NO!"



He has a sibling: it is Big Brother.



If he tries to shoplift anything, I'll be able to nail him.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Something to Say, Sorta



For the past few days, Spud has been "talking". He's making little happy noises, composed almost entirely of vowels (there's a "g" too), that sound a lot like proto-words. It's been interesting to watch this happen. His crying has been a lot less intense and much shorter in duration lately. Some of the crying started turning into short bursts of whimpering and whining when his heart wasn't really in it, and from that evolved little short happy noises. This usually happens on the diaper changing table, and lately when he has a mobile over his head or when he's watching the little hanging animals over the "activity mat" that Richard and Lynn gave us (with animals that Matt and Elizabeth gave us). Sometimes these rudimentary "words" reflect absolute unmitigated joy ("aaaieaaaaaa!") complete with a big smile and lots of enthralled huffing and chortling.

We can't wait for him to talk. But someday in the not too distant future, when he's asking for the 34th time why he can't have the G.I. Joe action figure, we're going to wish he'd just shut up.



Parents are the same everywhere



This is the photo that appeared on the front page of the New York Times today. The caption: "A father gave medical treatment to his son on Tuesday at a camp for people displaced from Pakistan’s Swat Valley region." I've seen lots of pictures like this in the past; parents in a far away country with a child that was suffering in a war zone or a place with exteme poverty. But when I saw this picture today, I understood what this parent must be feeling, and I knew I'd have a stronger response to images like this from now on.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

I Love You, Ceiling Fan

Spud began his visual examination of the world several weeks ago, and one of the first things that he noticed was ceiling fans. This makes sense, we suppose, because he's facing upward a lot. Our world is a horizontal one, but his is vertical and upward. He looks up a lot; at our faces from the bouncy chair and the crib and the changing table. I took him outside the other night and he seemed to be looking up at the stars. The ceiling fans are dark-ish objects against a white background, so they're easy to see. He seems to have developed an unhealthy attachment to ceiling fans, however, staring transfixed for long periods. Maybe this is his first hobby. But the sooner we get him staring for long periods at the TV like a normal kid, the better.



His favorite things in the whole world, in order:
1) Mommy's boobs
2) Mommy
3) Ceiling fans
4) Being on the diaper changing pad after a new diaper is installed
5) Bouncy chair spiders
6) Daddy

He's TWO months old! Wow! That means a trip to the pediatrician and his very first vaccinations. Normally 4 are given at this stage, but we are taking a slower road, and got two today and will get the other two when he's three months old. There is a lot of baby vaccine hysteria out there. We aren't really caught up in it, and we intend to get him all of the vaccines. Of course. If one is not taking advantage of 21st-century medicine in a developed nation, one is just a shitty parent. But there's no harm in taking it a little slower and spreading them out a bit. There is mercury and aluminum in the vaccines, in very small amounts. But wouldn't it be great if shots for babies contained NO neurotoxins??? And there are occasional, very bad side effects. I know, I know. Quote the CDC and the studies all you want, but the CDC is required to protect the entire population of the U.S. They do cost-benefit analyses and run complex statistical population models and want to get all babies vaccinated asap. A fatality rate of .01% from a multi-vaccine cocktail is preferable to communicable and curable diseases running rampant throughout the land. We, on the other hand, are required to protect Spud. Period.

He got the Rotavirus and DTaP vaccines today. The rotavirus is an oral, live virus vaccine. I took my college biology courses, but still, the idea of pumping live viruses into our tiny infant makes me nervous. The DTaP vaccine protects against three bacterial infections: diphtheria, tetanus, and pertussis (whooping cough). This one was a shot in his thigh. He did not like this (note italics). He looked very surprised, then he looked pissed, and then he shrieked. But he did get a stylish Charlie Brown band-aid.

The latest stats, for those of you keeping score:
weight: 11 lbs. 6.75 oz. (nailing the coveted 50th percentile. Yesss.)
length (we can't say "height" yet, can we?): 24 inches (75-90th percentile!!...I'm thinking big contract with the Knicks).





All of the discussion about vaccinations reminds me of a scene in one of my favorite movies. From the Raising Arizona script I found on-line:

EXT PICNIC GROUNDS

Dot faces Hi and Ed across a picnic table covered with grilled hamburgers, rolls, green jello mold, cooler, etc. One of the younger children sits in the middle of the table,occasionally taking a fistful of jello and flinging it at Hi. The two women don't seem to notice.

DOT: -and then there's diphtheria-tetanus, what they call dip-tet. You gotta get him dip-tet boosters yearly or else he'll get lockjaw and night vision. Then there's the smallpox vaccine, chicken pox and measles, and if your kid's like ours you gotta take all those shots first to get him to take 'em. Who's your pediatrician, anyway?

ED: We ain't exactly fixed on one yet. Have we Hi?

Hi sits stock-still with a stony face.

... No, I guess we don't have one yet.

DOT shrieks.

DOT: Well you just gotta have one! You just gotta have one this instant!

ED: Yeah, what if the baby gets sick, honey?

DOT: Even if he don't get sick he's gotta have his dip-tet!

ED: He's gotta have his dip-tet, honey.

Hi shrugs, then flinches as a piece of jello hits his shoulder.

HI: ... Uh-huh.

DOT: You started his bank accounts?

ED: Have we done that honey? We gotta do that honey. What's that for, Dot?

DOT: That-there's for his orthodonture and his college. You soak his thumb in iodine you might get by without the orthodonture, but it won't knock any off the college.

Hi sits stoically. DOT is looking offscreen:

DOT: ... Reilly, take that diaper off your head and put it back on your sister! ... Anyway, you probably got the life insurance all squared away.

ED: You done that yet honey?

DOT: You gotta do that, Hi! Ed here's got her hands full with that little angel!

Hi (dully): Yes ma'am.

DOT: What would Ed and the angel do if a truck came along and splattered your brains all over the interstate? Where would you be then?

ED: Yeah honey, what if you get run over?

DOT: Or you got carried off by a twister?

Sunday, June 21, 2009

Happy Father's Day!

And happy summer solstice!



"When a child is born, a father is born. A mother is born, too of course, but at least for her it's a gradual process. Body and soul, she has nine months to get used to what's happening. She becomes what's happening. But for even the best-prepared father, it happens all at once. On the other side of a plate-glass window, a nurse is holding up something roughly the size of a loaf of bread for him to see for the first time.
Quote by: Frederick Buechner, 'Whistling in the Dark'

My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person, he believed in me.
Quote by: Jim Valvano

He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.
Quote by: Clarence Budington Kelland

My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, "You're tearing up the grass." "We're not raising grass," Dad would reply. "We're raising boys."
Quote by: Harmon Killebrew

One father is more than a hundred Schoolmasters.
Quote by: George Herbert, Outlandish Proverbs, 1640

Fatherhood is pretending the present you love most is soap-on-a-rope.
Quote by: Bill Cosby

When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.
Quote by: Mark Twain, "Old Times on the Mississippi" Atlantic Monthly, 1874

4 years: My Daddy can do anything!
7 years: My Dad knows a lot…a whole lot.
8 years: My father does not know quite everything.
12 years: Oh well, naturally Father does not know that either.
14 years: Oh, Father? He is hopelessly old-fashioned.
21 years: Oh, that man-he is out of date!
25 years: He knows a little bit about it, but not much.
30 years: I must find out what Dad thinks about it.
35 years: Before we decide, we will get Dad's idea first.
50 years: What would Dad have thought about that?
60 years: My Dad knew literally everything!
65 years: I wish I could talk it over with Dad once more.
Quote by: Unknown

Spread the diaper in the position of the diamond with you at bat. Then fold second base down to home and set the baby on the pitcher's mound. Put first base and third together, bring up home plate and pin the three together. Of course, in case of rain, you gotta call the game and start all over again.
Quote by: Jimmy Piersal, on how to diaper a baby, 1968

It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons.
Quote by: Johann Schiller

Never raise your hand to your kids. It leaves your groin unprotected.
Quote by: Red Buttons

A father carries pictures where his money used to be.
Quote by: Unknown

Thursday, June 18, 2009

The Itsy Bitsy Spi-----OH MAKE IT STOP

The bouncy chair is great. It's in the kitchen, and Spud is very comfortable sitting in there, allowing us to do various food-related activities with two hands. The seat vibrates, so, pretty comfy. And of course, it's bouncy. But it has one terrible, horrifying flaw: it has a theme song. "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" is happily crooned over and over and over. And over. They mix in an instrumental version of the song between repetitions of the sung version, but even then, you HEAR the VOICE. I hear it in my dreams.



The bouncy chair has these two plastic spiders that hang and stare, unblinking, at our child. He has begun to stare back. Should we be concerned?



The moral of the "Itsy Bitsy Spider" is, of course, perseverance in the face of insurmountable odds. An important message for a young man to embrace as he faces the inevitable obstacles and new challenges in his life. The plucky little arachnid, trying again and again to climb up the water spout. Plucky little guy. But now, when I hear the song, I have to fight the urge to go outside and find a spider and crush it with my shoe.

More adventures in the bouncy chair:

Monday, June 15, 2009

Spud, Unplugged

Spud was physically attached to his Mom for 9 months, so it makes sense that he might have some trouble going solo and hanging out on his own. As previously reported, he recently began to enjoy being in the bouncy chair and swing, and has started to feel OK about being by himself and not being held constantly. We have made some tremendous headway in the battle of wills regarding his occupancy of the crib in recent days. He has spent some quality (i.e. not crying) time in the cradle in the kitchen and the crib in the bedroom. We have theorized that he can see much better now, and he seems to know that sounds and sights go together, and he has figured out that even though we aren't holding him, he can hear and see that we are still close by and he feels safer. Reluctant and slightly trepidacious steps into the great big universe. Eight hours of sleep in the crib will surely follow, right?





Speaking of the universe, I've added Spud's name to the digital list that will travel to Mars on the next rover, now nicknamed 'Curiosity', and due to be launched in 2011. You can send your name too! It's almost like going there yourself, sorta.

http://mars.jpl.nasa.gov/msl/participate/sendyourname/

When Babies Attack



An article from MSNBC, which got our attention...

When babies attack: Labor pain is just the start

Parents, beware of poked eyes, broken noses, blows to the groin and more
By Jacqueline Stenson, MSNBC contributor
URL: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/31256584/ns/health-kids_and_parenting/

While other moms were enjoying being pampered on Mother’s Day, Hilary Wheeler Miller was nursing a broken nose that she suffered after being headbutted by her 3-year-old son.

“He stood up really fast and just plowed into my nose,” says the 40-year-old mom from Littleton, Colo.

As a result of the accident, Miller’s nose is now broken in two places and she’ll need surgery later this month to straighten it.

After an emergency C-section for her son’s delivery, Miller thought the worst of baby-induced pain was behind her. But childbirth was just the start.

Miller also got a fat, black-and-blue lip when Nicholas bit her as an infant. During a later roller-skating outing, he pulled her down and she shattered her right wrist, requiring a cast for two months. Miller also has been sickened with various illnesses that her son picked up at daycare, including strep throat, three rounds of pink eye, and a severe case of bronchitis that took months to treat.

“Never once did I imagine having a child would be hazardous to my health,” she says. Today, though, there’s an “ongoing saga of danger surrounding my life now that I have a child.”

Advice books, magazines and Web sites for new parents talk at great length about the aches and pains of pregnancy and childbirth, and the subsequent sleep deprivation and exhaustion. But beyond that, parents are more likely to learn the hard way about various other owies that babies and young children can innocently inflict.

Parents who’ve been knocked around a few times by tiny tots quickly find themselves strategizing about how to deflect flailing arms and legs, flying toys and utensils, razor-sharp fingernails and fists that tighten around strands of hair like a Vise-Grip — and then pull! They search for ways to ease the pain of strained backs from endless hours of carrying around youngsters (often only on one hip, which makes matters worse) and strained necks from gazing at baby while feeding (which is widely recommended for promoting parent-infant bonding).

And when moms and dads drop their guard and take a finger to the eye, a blow to the head or a kick to the groin, they see stars — and not little twinkling ones.

Kris Cambra was in so much pain in April when her 2-year-old son, Truman, poked her in the eye, that she went to the emergency room.

“Think of having a paper cut on your eye,” says Cambra, 34, of New Bedford, Mass., who was diagnosed with a corneal abrasion. “You think, you outweigh them, you’re much bigger than them, so what can they really do to you?” A lot, actually.

Judy Ward, a pediatric nurse at St. Louis Children’s Hospital, says she’s heard about a range of child-induced injuries from parents who’ve called into the hospital’s Answer Line with questions about child health and behavior over the last 12 years that she’s fielded calls.

Her first bit of advice: “They probably didn’t mean it when they headbutted you.”

It may not always appear to make sense at the time, she says, but there are valid reasons why young children do seemingly inexplicable things, like beating up on their poor parents.

“They are, from practically the moment they are born, exploring their world,” says Ward. “Sticking their finger in your eye is no different than sticking it in an electrical socket.”

“Pre-verbal” children who don’t have the language skills to communicate their feelings and desires can be difficult because they get frustrated and then act out physically, Ward explains. “Biting, headbutting, tantrums, all of these things are because, ‘I want to go out and play and now you’re putting me in my car seat and I don’t want to go,’” she says. Sometimes kids want more attention or need a change of scenery.

Even infants can inflict excruciating pain to their mothers long after the recovery from childbirth. When Heather Allard’s son, Brendan, was 6 months old and teething, he used her nipples as chew toys. “He bit both of my nipples with his new bottom teeth while breast-feeding and sliced my nipples nearly clear off,” she says. “I have a scar on each one to prove it. My husband said my nipples looked like a pencil eraser breaking off.”

Now 2 and weighing in at 30 pounds, her son wants to be carried around all day. “His favorite place is to be parked on my hip,” says Allard, 40, of Pawtucket, R.I. Not surprisingly, this takes a toll. “My back and hips hurt all the time, my left arm feels like it’s going to snap off and my feet ache.”

Allard also has two girls. And like Cambra, her son is more physical — having, for instance, “headbutted me several times from every angle,” she says.

“Maybe it’s a boy thing or maybe I’m just getting old, but man, I’m in constant pain,” Allard says.

“A couple of weeks ago my [3-year-old] son came from the side, jumped in the air, and drove his knees into my groin,” says Laurence Sampson, 43, of Denver, whose two young girls also put the hurt on him at times. “Painful, as you might imagine. Most of the time I see it coming, and just roll my leg over for protection.”

So if your baby is a grabber, don’t wear dangling jewelry. If your tot is a scratcher, keep fingernails trimmed. And if your child leaves toys on the stairs, turn on the light and look around before you walk them.

Eye pokes can be difficult to prevent, Shu says. “It’s tough because you don’t want to go around wearing goggles all the time.” But there are practical precautions such as not picking up a child who is holding a crayon or pencil.

Still, accidents will happen. And while parents may never forget some of them, especially the ones that require a trip to the ER, it’s easy enough to forgive their devilish little darlings.

Even with a broken nose, Miller, the Colorado mom, hasn’t been scared away from the possibly of having more children — “after the trauma of the nose wears off.”

While parenting two young sons, Los Angeles-based writer Jacqueline Stenson has endured a black eye, a corneal abrasion (separate incidents, same eye), toe-curling nipple pain, neck pain, back aches and countless bumps and bruises … not that she’s complaining.

© 2009 msnbc.com
URL: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/31256584/ns/health-kids_and_parenting/

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Q: What's Cuter Than Lil' Baby Feet?

A: Nothin'.





7 weeks old! And 10 lbs. 9 oz at the Dr. a couple of days ago. Last weekend he got extra fussy and started coughing and sneezing a little. He has endured his first cold and ear infection. He seems better now, mostly thanks to Dr. Mommy.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

We should have named him "Chuck". Or "Ralph."

Vomit. Barf. Spew. Biff. Puke. Ralph. Boot. The eskimos have 99 words for snow, but we have at least that many for the act of regurgitation. Spud upchucks an average of 5 or so times per day. What mystifies me is the fact that he does it in such a casual, relaxed way. He doesn't even seem to notice the milky (ok, it's not "milky", it's milk) substance dribbling out of his mouth and onto: whatever is nearby (usually Mommy or Daddy).



If you look carefully, you can see the lady on the TV is also disgusted about the puke on my shirt.



Now when I throw up, it's a different story. It's a major, traumatic event. There are all sorts of natural and unnatural sounds, followed by whimpering. I can vividly remember the last three times that I vomited: 1) March, 2007, camping atop the Chilean Andes at 13,000 ft., I suffered from either altitude sickness and/or food poisoning. I managed to unzip my tent and clamber out before making cookies all over the southern hemisphere; 2) May, 1991, I got hold of some tainted potato salad in Arizona; and 3) Spring Break, Fort Lauderdale, 1988. No explanation is needed.

So Spud's relaxed biffing is remarkeable. He just seems to...overflow.

Look: Baby Pictures!

In the past 6 1/2 weeks, we have taken 3 pictures of cats, 1 picture of flowers in the front yard, and 287 pictures of the baby. If Claire and I have any photos of ourselves taken in the next few years, it will only be because we happen to be inadvertently in the photo with the baby. If the alien mothership landed in the back yard, we would only get a picture of it if we happened to be taking a picture of the baby and the aliens were in the same general direction.

He's noticeably bigger now than he was when we brought him home. He's already outgrown some of his onesies, and he's starting to wear some of the smaller 3-6 month onesies. We see him every day so we don't really notice, but he looks very tiny in the "older" pictures (taken say, 3 weeks ago).





Wednesday, June 3, 2009