Pubescent

My son is in the upper 90th percentile of every height/weight/head circumference category, but I honestly didn't expect him to already be pubescent. He's started developing these small pimples on his cheeks and across his nose. They generally fade after a few days and with a good wash of warm water. But it still cracks me up to see a little one-month old baby with acne. I almost expect his cries to get deeper and to see little hairs sprouting on his chin!

According to my research, it's generally caused by irritation to certain fabrics or milk or saliva that comes into contact with the skin. I guess he has it because he spits up and then rubs it all over his face with his little clinched fist.

The Hand

My son’s latest thing is that he has started reaching through the bars of the bassinet with his little fist to hold our hand. He’ll dangle it out there and look at us expectantly until we wrap our hand around it. Only then will he let his eyelids drift close and fade into sleep.

Tummy Time

Today my wife did her first tummy time with Troy. She put him on his stomach on the floor and he was able to hold his head up, albeit a bit wobbly, for an entire minute! Then he was done and screamed bloody murder for the next half hour.

Cheeky Bugger

My wife hasn’t been feeling well the last few days. Apparently, she has a blood clot stuck in her uterus that is causing her to bleed a large amount of blood. Blood clots after pregnancy are normal and usually pass through the system on their own. But they don’t usually occur a month after the birth and get stuck. It’s not a dire situation, but it is making her dizzy and weak. Because of that, I had to take all the shifts with the baby last night and this morning.

So I’m sitting there holding the bottle in his mouth, and all of a sudden, he stops sucking, turns to look me right in the eyes, and unleashes the kraken in his diaper. The explosiveness and sheer volume of the poop was so vast that it overflowed the diaper and poured out...all over my legs. At that moment, I suspected he had gone to the bathroom in his diaper. But other than a warm feeling through my pant leg, I didn’t yet know that it was covering me.

And that’s when the cheeky little bugger rubbed my nose in it so to speak. Knowing what he’d just done, the fastest bottle sucker in the south suddenly became a moo juice connoisseur. He started taking small sips from the nipple and pausing in between each one to smack his lips and savor it. I swear I heard him swishing the moo juice around in his mouth to appreciate its smoky flavor and full body. He dragged that bottle out for over ten minutes, where it normally takes him ten seconds. The entire time the pungent odor of poop growing stronger and stronger in my nostrils. I no longer trust his smiles or calm demeanor, because it normally means that he’s up to something mischievous at my expense.

The Most Interesting Baby in the World

Today, is my son's one-month birthday. To honor this very special milestone, I decided to turn my son into a meme...a series of advertisements, if you will, with my son as the star. I used the Dos Equis "The World's Most Interesting Man" campaign as inspiration, changing Dos Equis to Dos Boobies and Cerveza to Leche. I then put an action shot of my son on it and started going wild with funny phrases that accurately describe his many, various exploits up to this point.

The result was better than I imagined! Based off the fun feedback I have received, I will definitely be looking for other ways to incorporate him into additional campaigns. I mean why else would you have a baby, if not to do fun stuff like this to him?!

The Chain Smoker

Right now, the baby is drinking two ready-made bottles at each feeding. Since there have been days when he only wants one, we don’t open the second one until we’re sure he wants both. This can cause a few seconds of ballistic crying while we quickly try to shake, open, and nipple up the second bottle. Apparently, the baby is a chain-smoker when it comes to his bottles. He expects you to pull one empty one out and immediately replace it with a fresh one before the milk from the last one has had a chance to dry on his lips. We may have to have an intervention soon to address this unhealthy addiction.

Munchkin

We have taken to calling the baby “munchkin.” I’m sure every baby gets some sort of nickname from their parents. My neighbor’s dad called her “peanut.” He actually called her that right up until the day he died. He said it’s because that’s what she looked like the first time he saw her on the sonogram.

Well, Troy is our little munchkin. The name was more randomly-generated, but it has to do with him being a fully-formed little human. He’s like a littler version of ourselves. A mini me. A munchkin.

I was thinking of the irony of this nickname yesterday. Our son is in the 97th percentile for size, which means he’s as large or larger than 97 percent of the babies his age. So I’m imagining him one day standing there 6’5” and 250 pounds of muscle, and I’m calling him “munchkin.” The thought was so ludicrous that I couldn’t stop laughing.

Baby Defense

A guy at work was asking how the baby was doing, and I told him that he was better now that my wife and I had figured out a system of taking turns. He said that we should enjoy the ability to play zone coverage now, because when kid #2 comes along, you have to start playing man-to-man. I replied that right now we are taking advantage of double-teaming him when needed to take the stress off each other. But on days when I’m working or my wife doesn’t feel well, we end up playing Iron Man, going both ways.

I love being able to have an entire sports conversation about taking care of a baby!

Initiation

The last few days, my son and I have both have a lot of gas in our stomachs. We have taken to expelling it in similar fashions, to the point that one or the other of us makes “noise” and my wife has to ask which one of us did it. Being the awesome father that I am, I of course always blame it on the baby. One because he can’t defend himself, and two because people are more tolerant of him doing it.

Last night, my wife was changing the baby, and at that very moment, I tooted from my snoozing position in the bed. Apparently, my son heard it and smiled. It was so perfect and unexpected, that my wife started cracking up laughing. I guess he’s being properly initiated as a man in our family!

The Night Shift

The lack of sleep has really started getting to my wife. She claims that she can’t nap during the day either, so she’s functioning on about 2-3 hours of sleep a day. I’m only functioning on about 4, so I’m not much better.

We had been trying a tag team approach, where she takes the first 2-hour shift, I take the next 3-hour shift, and she takes the last 2-hour shift through the night. We thought this would keep either of us from having to be up for too large a chunk of time. However, it’s only served to keep us both unrested and exhausted.

The last couple of days, we switched to where I take the first 3-hour shift, and she takes 4 hours after that. I have also been coming home early this week and giving her time to take a 2-3 hour nap. While I won’t be able to keep coming home early, this has given her more rest and allowed her to recover somewhat. Also, the shift pattern at night seems to help keep us both more rested. It makes for a little longer day for me, but then I get consecutive sleep. She seems better with taking her chunk at once rather than the up and down of before. I guess part of having your first baby is figuring things out.

About Time

Someone asked me today if I wish I had been a father sooner. The natural inclination would be to answer, “of course I do!” But the truth is that I don’t. Because in my mind, an exact chain of events had to come together to produce my exact son. So if I had been a father sooner, then I wouldn’t have had my son exactly as he is. And that wouldn’t work for me. I wouldn’t change him one bit.

There was a movie a few years back called “About Time.” It followed a man that had the ability to go back in time and relive moments from his life. He discovers that he could make different decisions and change the future moments of his life. During one scene, his sister gets in a car accident and is in the hospital badly hurt. He decides to go back in time and change the decisions she had made that led to that moment. Unfortunately, when he does so, his little baby girl becomes unborn and is replaced with a little baby boy instead. When he asks his father about this, who also had the ability to travel back in time, he finds out that some things require a certain configuration of life to produce, and making changes to the past will alter the configuration and change it to something different. So at those milestones, he’s unable to make changes before the event happened. Which means to keep his daughter, he can’t help his sister avoid the pain of her life. Faced with the choice, he decides to keep his daughter.

When the person asked me today about being a father sooner, I thought of this movie. I wouldn’t trade my son to avoid the pain in my life. I have to trust that God had a plan all along, it was supposed to happen this exact way at this exact time. And the result of that was getting my exact son.

Thwarted

Last night, at 3:30 in the morning, my son started to wake up for his next feed cycle. While he was still yawning, I quickly changed his diaper. Usually, this will make him start bawling. But because of his sleepy state, and my speed on the diaper, he kind of gave me a look like, “Wait, what’s going on...oh, oooh...that feels nice. I feel dry and clean.”

While he was still wondering where the new diaper came from, I got him situated and stuck a bottle in his mouth. He was surprised that he didn’t have to do his usual crying to get it, but grateful too. He started to suck contentedly.

Halfway through the bottle, either because he finally caught up to the process, or because he was irked that I had been so efficient, he started to cry. Bottle still in his mouth, taking sucks in between sobs, crying. I thought he wasn’t hungry, so I took the bottle out, which made him cry more. So I put it back in, and he stopped. A few minutes later, and he started crying again. Cry...suck, suck, suck...cry...suck.

Without expecting a response, but asking anyway, I asked him what was wrong. I imagined him responding with something like, “Nothing. I’m clean, dry, fed, and loved. [sobbing uncontrollably] I’m just so happy. [sobbing harder] Everything is perfect...really. [red-faced wailing] All my needs are met, and I didn’t even get a chance to cry first. I just feel like I need to catch up...restore order to the universe.”

The Thespian

My son has decided that he does not like to be burped. I’m not sure if it’s the act itself or the fact that I have to flip him over when he’s practically milk comatose. Whatever the reason, he usually cries when I do it. However, I’m convinced that it’s an act. That they are in fact, fake cries. For one thing there are no tears, and for another, he can turn it on and off at will. He hates it so much that he wants it over as soon as possible, which doesn’t always happen if he’s having trouble getting the gas out. So he’s started faking it. That’s right, he makes a sound like a burp and then looks at me to see if I’m buying it, which I’m not. But it’s funny that he’s trying. He’s done this on several occasions, so I’m positive he’s doing it on purpose, rather than a fluke.

Daddy Support Group

CC came over this afternoon to help me move the glider downstairs, so my wife and I have a place to sit in our room. He’s been very supportive, and it’s a blessing to know I can call him and ask for something, and I can count on him to show up.

He understands better than most since he just had a son in December. So he’s only two months removed from what I’m experiencing now. He likes joking with me about my technique. He told his wife that I’m really fast at changing diapers, but at the expense of leaving myself exposed to getting peed and pooped on. He thinks it’s only a matter of time.

We went and had a late lunch to catch up, and it was nice to have a break for a couple of hours and have some adult time. I’m blessed to have him as a brother, and I’m glad to go through this together.

Zero to Hangry to Zero Again

It still catches me off guard how fast the baby can go from mouth-agape asleep to red-faced, screaming hysteria. He’ll cry if he has a bad poopy diaper, but it’s more of a moaning sob. But if he’s hungry, oh my god it’s on! My eardrums are throbbing as he screeches in my face. His mouth is fully open, tongue vibrating with the sound. His eyes are closed tight to allow adequate space for his flushed, red cheeks to rise as high as possible. At this point, no attempt to console him will work. He wants one thing, and he will scream until he gets it. Food. And the moment he gets it, everything is fine with the world again. We are once again adequate caretakers, and he settles into a contented sucking bliss...that is assuming that we feed him enough!

This is what I imagine his screams imply:

How dare you starve me you insolent naves! Do you know who I am?! I’m the prince, and I shall not be treated this way! Don’t you know it’s been twelve minutes since I last ate? How do you expect me to keep going on such sparse rations?! I’m literally withering away before your eyes, and you do nothing! I don’t want that stupid green false nipple that provides no sustenance. I want the moo juice, and I want it now! You have one job, which is to provide me with moo juice on demand whenever I crave it, and you suck at it. I can’t believe I got stuck with such incompetent morons. Alas, my life is a torturous nightmare. I’m a slave, a prisoner...but even they get treated better than I do. I don’t think I’m ever going to eat again. You’re trying to kill me aren’t you? Aren’t you?! I’m dying, I’m dying!!!

Oh, wait, what’s that? Could it be? It’s the right consistency. I think it is...moo juice! Everything is okay, nothing to see here. [suck, suck] The overlords have come to their senses. [suck, suck, suck, suck] I still might trade them in at some point, but for now they will do for another few minutes. [suuuuccckk, suuuuccckk] Oh, sweet moo juice...sweet nectar of the gods...sweet ambrosia on my tongue...how I’ve missed you. [suck...pause...suck...suck] I never want to be parted from you again.

Head Rubs

I’ve noticed that Troy likes to have his head gently rubbed. The curve right at the base of his skull is his favorite spot. Even when he’s full-blown nuclear, he will still calm a little when I do that. It’s funny to watch him fight it, like he can’t decide if he wants to keep up the overly-dramatic tantrum or give in to the euphoric bliss of the head rub. I love to stroke his little head there. The hair is so soft and wispy.

Hands

My son likes to sleep with his hand by his face. Always his right hand. If we try to swaddle him, he will squirm and cry and struggle until the hand is free. Then he’ll gently put it by his face and go to sleep.

When he was in the womb, he did the same thing. We could see his little balled up fist by his face in the sonogram. It was for this reason that we could never get a good look at his face, because there was always a little hand in the way.

My friend CC’s baby likes to sleep with his hands folded together on his little chest, as if he’s praying. This is neat and noteworthy, because his name is Declan, which means man of prayer. When my friend first pointed it out, I smiled and nodded, believing that all babies do this and that he was just seeing what he wanted to see. But now seeing my son do something completely different, I realize that each baby is as unique as his parents. Each has his own quirks.

The Incredibly Shrinking Man

I have lost five pounds since the birth of my son. This is directly due to missing meals and eating less. It wasn’t intentional. It’s just easy to miss meals when you arrange your wife’s breakfast, feed your son, change his diapers, and soothe him sleep. The next thing you know, it’s lunch time.

It’s also easy to be in the middle of a meal, and your son has some urgent need, like he spit his pacifier out, and you have to drop everything and take care of it. So your food sits uneaten, getting cold, while you sit next to the bassinet holding the pacifier in his mouth.

There was a running joke when we were leaving the hospital. My mom asked me if I ate a single warm meal during our stay. I did not.

Moo Juice & The Boob Man

My wife’s breast milk finally came in yesterday. The lactation nurse at the doctors office was concerned that it hadn’t come in yet, so it’s a relief that it’s finally here. Now, we have to embark on the adventure of trying to get him to latch on and start pulling milk himself.

He seems to want to, as even when we’re bottle feeding him, he turns his head toward our chest and searches for a nipple with his lips. Yes, my son is a boob man. Nothing else matters, but the soft, supple appendage that produces his favorite thing on this earth...moo juice.

Naps

I got a much needed nap today, with Troy nestled against my chest. I guess he needed a nap too! He’s so cute. He will wrap his little fingers around the edge of my shirt or around my finger, just so he can feel me. I guess it brings him comfort and makes him feel safe while he sleeps. I like placing my hand on top of both of his on his chest. He wraps one of his little hands around my thumb and nods off. He has a bad startle reflex, so holding his hands seems to calm him and reduce that a little.

I’m still cognizant and aware of his noises and movements, but once he settles into a deep sleep, he’ll stay like that for hours. It’s a nice time to doze as well. My only concern is that he isn’t learning to sleep on his own. He only seems to settle when someone is holding him. The nurse said that he’s a cuddler, but we still need to start working on sleeping alone. It’ll be more restful for all of us.

Ballistic

Last night was rough. At 1 o’clock in the morning, the baby started crying, and he didn’t stop for three hours no matter what my wife tried to do. She fed him, which has lately been his biggest complaint. But after he was done, he went on screaming. She woke me up crying that she couldn’t figure out what was wrong, and she was so tired. After checking his diaper and unsuccessfully attempting to use the pacifier, I finally got him to burp and shushed him until he settled into a restless sleep. He slowly relaxed into a deep sleep, and I sat there on the bed holding him for next three hours, trying not to move and shushing him back to sleep if he startled.

I saw the colors of the dawn cast their pale blues and pinks across everything as the sun slowly came up. I saw the birds awake and begin to sing. I watched the naked trees sway gently in the wind outside. And I watched my son sleep in my arms, feeling trusting and safe.

When my wife finally came to relieve me after a much-needed sleep, I was exhausted. But I couldn’t sleep, because there were diapers to change and mouths to feed. Maybe I’ll get a nap later...

Going Home

As my wife and I waited to be discharged from the hospital, we told each other that it was totally worth it, knowing what we know now. Knowing that we can love this little baby more than anything else. Knowing and being willing to give up our own selfish desires for the happiness of another. My mom jokingly asked if I had eaten one hot meal in the hospital, and I replied that I had not. I took care of my wife’s needs, then my son’s, and lastly myself. By that point, my food was cold. But that’s okay, because that’s what it means to have a servant’s heart, and I gladly do it.

I prayed for my little son long before he was even a thing. I didn’t just pray that God would give him to me. I prayed that God would make him and form him. That He was preparing him for me and me for him. I prayed that God would make me into a good father for Troy. That I could set a good example and guide him. That I could lead him to his true Father and teach him all about God. I knew in my heart what I wanted, but God exceeded my expectations. He always seems to do that, but it never ceases to amaze me.

It was nice to sit and chat with my wife like this. With all that’s been going on, we haven’t had time for just us to connect.

We were finally discharged from the hospital tonight at 6:40 pm. It was 45 degrees outside with a light misty rain. Which made it fun to try to put a baby in a car seat for the first time. But I eventually got him strapped in like a pro, and we were finally off.

It’s nice to be in our own space again, but scary too. We don’t have the safety net of the nurses and doctors anymore. We don’t have the luxury of the all-night nursery. We are on our own now. With God’s help, I’m sure we’ll make it through, but we still have much apprehension until we can get into a routine. Either way, we’re in it now! It’s sink or swim, no easing into it.