An introduction to The Holidays

Peter just had his first Christmas. It was remarkable for the fact that it was his first Christmas, but it was also memorable because he hadn’t filled his diaper with the messy stuff since the Friday before (Christmas was on a Tuesday this year, so do the math). He was going to be wearing nice outfits for family gatherings, but we knew going that long without relieving himself was a recipe for disaster. So, when Christmas Eve morning dawned, Peter was given a steady diet of prunes. Lots of them. We thought we had stuck a little stick of dynamite down there, and after lighting the fuse had hid ourselves behind the nearest bolder to shield ourselves from the blast to come. No blast came. Just a giggling, if somewhat fatigued, Peter. His Aunt Sarah suggested the likely scenario: He’d poop, but only the following morning at church, in the middle of mass. One should always be cautious about laughing off prophecies, and we heeded her words, fearful of what the following morning could bring.

The afternoon of Christmas Eve saw us traveling to Auntie Trucker & Uncle John’s house in Whitefish Bay, where a sizable (yet incomplete) set of Peter’s Mom’s family was convening for a holiday feast. We were planning on staying the night and going to church in the morning, but when Aunt Mai and Uncle Siva were prevented from joining us due to work and a little trip to China the following day, everything changed. We wound up going to the evening mass at 5:00 with Peter’s Grandpa (mother-side), and then we’d head back home later at night so we could de-stress our son a little. It should also be noted that Peter understood that the past few days were not normal days, and so he did everything in his power to keep himself from being put down for a nap.

So we ran out to the mass and got there right as it started. I dropped off Peter, Mom and Grandpa, and parked the car. When I got to the church, Peter’s Mom advised me that due to the fact that the church was packed tighter than the Tokyo subway at rush hour, we would be sitting in the very front row (fortunately, though, we didn’t have to worry about whiter-than-white-gloves-wearing ushers pushing us into our seats like those Tokyo subway workers). Normally we sit in the middle of the pews. Always. Sitting up front was like suddenly finding yourself in a completely different church, or even the house of worship of another religion. I wouldn’t have been surprised if we were suddenly witnessing the sacrifice of a chicken. Anyway, Peter was a good boy, but his Grandpa was determined to have some fun with his grandson, and thus elicited a fair amount of laughs and minor screeches from him during the mass. When the service was complete, however, Peter still had not lightened his load.

We returned to Whitefish Bay for dinner and Peter took a short nap. He woke up in a foreign bed and cried to let us know that, but otherwise perked up nicely when it came time to open presents. As is often the case for a child of his age, his favorite present was the gift wrap. It crinkled so nicely and he could stick it in his moth and chew on it when his parents weren’t looking. He did get his mom’s finger stuck in his mouth once, though, fishing for a little bit of paper he was using as a chew toy. He didn’t care for the invasion, and pouted a little, but then crinkled up some more paper. As I’ve probably mentioned before, Peter is a party animal, and so he stayed up a long time that evening, all the way past 11:00 when we loaded him up and took him home. He slept pretty well that night, I can tell you.

Christmas morning saw me waking up around 7:45 and heading downstairs to commiserate with Peter’s other Grandpa and Auntie Sarah. Some time after 8:15 or so Peter’s Mom came down with Peter in her arms and exclaimed “Peter gave us our present!” and invited me to help clean it up. When we opened up his diaper, we saw that he did indeed provide us with just the gift we were looking for, and he wrapped it so well it didn’t leak out of his diaper. As I told my wife, “it’s a Christmas miracle!” and then a bunch of friends and neighbors came in and we all sang Auld Lang Syne. Oh, wait, that was It’s A Wonderful Life. No. We just cleaned up his fanny and hosed him down.

Later on I installed the new car seat his Grammy got him a few weeks back because he was growing out of his infant seat. Then we installed Peter into the seat, which he seemed to like a lot more than his old one, and drove him down to see his Gram. He was again showered with gifts (including a nice bouncy hobby horse with no springs that he liked a lot), and again he thought the wrapping paper was great fun. He was, however, pretty well exhausted by this time and crashed a couple of times during the afternoon. Again he’d wake up and give us the “I’m lying on a foreign bed and I don’t know where I am” cry to announce each nap was over. When dinnertime came, though, all signs of fatigue disappeared and he chatted up a storm. He also played a ducking-and-weaving game of hide-n-seek with his Auntie Sarah through a wine glass (um… it was a perspective thing, not like one of them could actually hide behind a wine glass. Neither of them is that small, nor were any of us such lushes as to need a wine glass the size of a barrel). Eventually, though, the four days of running around and partying caught up to Peter and he was fading by 8:00. We drove him home and he had a good, long sleep.

To sum up, Peter’s first Christmas was highlighted by three Ps: Partying, Paper, and Poop. Yes, infant constipation before Christmas brings new meaning to Advent. Excitement and expectation ultimately gave way to relief and heavy-duty cleaning. But once Peter slimmed down, so to speak, he was his happy, perky self. Now we just have to start preparing for his second Christmas…

Tragedy Strikes Wisconsin

Milwaukee, WI (AP) – After over two weeks of significant snowfall, the Northern half of Ozaukee County in Southeastern Wisconsin was subjected to a flash flood of an as-yet unidentified brown, pungent-smelling sludge at 11:00 AM. Damage estimates are not complete at this time, however clean-up costs have the potential to run well into the hundreds of millions of dollars.

Emergency management officials, using advanced scientific instruments, believe the epicenter of the tsunami to be in the Town of Saukville, some 30 miles from Milwaukee. At an impromptu press conference, local FEMA director Wendell Hornblatt indicated the substance was likely not toxic, but was “nasty.” Tests are currently underway to identify the sludge.

First responders are reported to have rushed to the site of the believed epicenter, where 2 survivors were found, a young mother and her 7 month-old son. Because of the age of the child, the AP is withholding the names of the two survivors at this time. EMT Sheila Stankowski attended to the mother. “She kept saying ‘it wouldn’t stop, it wouldn’t stop.’ She was in shock pretty bad but was otherwise ok. I mean, she was covered in [expletive], so I can understand freaking out, you know?”

EMT Jonathan Smedley described the infant’s condition as “great, it’s like he experienced a lot of relief or something.”

Several hours after the disaster occurred, the mother was able to provide some details of the event. She said her son was seated in a Bumbo, a seating device for infants that provides back support and props up the child. The substance then burst forth from the seat, in quantities that stunned the mother. “He hadn’t pooped in 2 days, but how could he have had that much inside him? How could I have lifted him? It’s like he opened up a portal to another dimension. I mean, there’s no way he could have made all that by himself right? Right?” Her son then said “mamamamamama.”

Hornblatt was unsure of the mother’s explanation. “Sure, it walked like a duck and quacked like a duck, but come on. One baby did all that? Right. She may smell poopies; I smell al-Qaeda.” Homeland Security Secretary Michael Chertoff was not as quick to point to terrorism. “There was none of the usual pre-attack chatter, and so far no one has claimed responsibility. And my first kid once actually spread the contents of his bowels across Jersey City, but no one noticed because it was Jersey City.”

Wisconsin Governor Jim Doyle has declared the afflicted area a disaster area, and is asking the federal government for assistance. President Bush issued a prepared statement that sent “his deepest sympathies to the fine people of Minnesota” and advised he looked forward to his next chance to fly over the area in Air Force One.

Quick Facts about Peter

Peter prefers sleeping on his side.

Peter does not care for avocado. If he knew how to “flip the bird” he would likely do so to you if you tried to feed him any avocado. Since he can not do that yet, he just glares at you, with the dirtiest look a 7-month old can muster.

Peter has already chosen his preferred presidential candidate. As he told us at the dinner table about a week ago “ O.. ba.. ma!” Unfortunately, we haven’t yet discussed minimum age requirements for voting with him yet, so I’m going to have to be mean and burst his bubble some day. We’re also going to have to stop him from watching Oprah from now on.

Peter loves playing with a remote control, but if you take out the batteries he’ll throw it away. Whether he’d do this with his toy remote that says “Bon jour!” is unknown.

And finally, Peter knows the difference between dinner and lunch. Lunch is the meal where you shovel in as much food as possible before moving on to your afternoon activities (i.e. napping). Dinner is the meal where you engage in erudite, witty conversations, and you eat at a more socially acceptable pace. At lunchtime, you do not speak beyond a grunt. At dinnertime, you share your thoughts and observations about the events of the day just concluded. At lunchtime, you throw any and all toys you may have before you on the floor. At dinnertime, you throw any and all toys you may have before you on the floor.

Now would be a good time to live in Florida

Winter. Snow. Cold. Baby. New parents.

Some things go together well, others do not. Putting the five things listed above together would fall under the latter category. So far this December we’ve had 2 bouts of snow, with more slated to hit us tonight and this coming weekend. We can hold Peter up to a window and show him this new phenomenon, but that’s the easy part. At some point we have to go outside with him. Then it gets tricky.

You have no doubt seen A Christmas Story. You no doubt think of Ralphie’s little brother Randy primarily as the kid in the snowsuit that is so bundled up he can’t put his arms down. Simply put, if we could get away with doing that, we would. The only problem is that he doesn’t fit into his car seat when we put on more than, say, 2 layers. Ideally, we’d wrap him up in every article of clothing that he hasn’t yet outgrown and have him sit on the lap of whoever isn’t driving, but that is unfortunately illegal.

We also find ourselves in the dilemma of either hauling him around in his car seat if we are taking him shopping, or extricating him from it and carrying him. Peter is a heavy kid, and in the car seat he’s a beastly load now, so carrying him without the seat is preferable. But if he fits into the seat it means we haven’t bundled him up as we’d want, so if he’s taken out like that he could get pretty chilly. Already I’ve had to go through this decision, and I wound up factoring in how far I’m parked from the store entrance and the wind. You’d think I was determining which club to use on a golf course, not thinking about transporting my son a short distance. At least when I had him outside in the cold for the 8 seconds it took to get to the door he enjoyed the trip…

In developmental updates, Peter is getting his butt up in the air and revving his crawling engine with more gusto now. He will be crawling fully in no time.

Happy 7th Monthiversary, Peter!

So we had an appointment to get portraits taken for Peter with his cousins Ethan, Elana, and George Saturday afternoon in Madison, and people in the area will know “ah, winter storm day.” We knew the slop was heading our way so we drove out to Madison Friday night. Peter must have known what was up and got excited, because half-way through the drive west he got uppity in his car seat and wanted to bust out and play. It must have been his way of saying “Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?...” because he wouldn’t calm down until we got there, and nothing calmed him down except for a little stop on the way at a gas station, where we took him out of his seat. Fortunately we only had to go to Madison and not Minneapolis. What ever happened to the Peter who napped quietly in his seat the weekend before on the drive to Chicago? Oy.

When he did get to Madison he got to play with Ethan and Elana (as much as Elana can play these days) and also his Aunt Sarah, who joined us for dinner. She got quite the work-out with him jumping up and down for her for about an hour in her arms. She had to fly out to Dubai the next day, so I guess he worked her over for a couple weeks’ worth of dancing. The good part for us with all his activity in the evening is that he wound up sleeping 8 hours straight, only waking up at 6:00 the next morning. Nice.

The photo session went well. Peter lit up for the photographer, and we got a bunch of naked baby pictures, which is pretty remarkable considering he tends to get shy when we change his diaper in public. No shyness here, that’s for sure. There was an attempt to get some pictures of all four cousins (clothed!) at one time, but the results were mixed. It seemed like with that many little kids for the photographer that it would have been easier juggling 4 globs of container-less jello. Fortunately there were no splats, but for the most part in the group photos Peter looks confused.

We drove Peter home Sunday afternoon after the storm was pretty much over, and this time he slept for us. It’s got to be the wireless power of the presence, or presence-to-be, of his cousins. Technically, it doesn’t bode well for the future. We’ll just have to never tell him about family visits.

Everybody Needs A Holiday

So far Peter had experienced only a couple holidays of note – 4th of July and Halloween being the only ones marked by social gatherings (true, he was around for Mothers Day and Fathers Day, but he pretty much slept through those). Thanksgiving, though, was his first of The Holidays. Crowds of family and piles of food. Fun for everyone, right? Peter, though, had a problem. He was tired, cranky, and perhaps worst of all for him, constipated. In fact, he didn’t relieve his colon until late Friday afternoon. Visiting his mother’s side of the family resulted in frequent appearances of The Lip – the tremendous thrusting out of his lower lip indicating he is not a happy camper, which is frequently followed by an unhappy cry. We think the reasons for his behavior, aside from being tired and constipated, are that he woke up in his car seat at the party, which was loud and crowded. He’s at an age where he’s becoming more aware of the things and people around him, and being suddenly in the middle of 15-20 people overwhelmed him, especially when he was the center of attention. Earlier in the day he was in better spirits when he was visited by his Aunt Sarah, but at that time he was in his house and he was in charge, so while he wasn’t terribly perky, he was at least able to enjoy himself a little.

Friday for him was spent recovering and relaxing (not shopping at 4:00 AM), and by the end of the day he was able to overcome his physical condition and fill up several diapers, copiously. Following his relief, he had about an hour’s worth of ecstatic energy, and then crashed like Britney Spears in court

Saturday would be a test for him. We had been invited down to Chicago for his cousin Amanda’s 16th birthday party, to be held at a restaurant in Chinatown. First of all, he had never left the state of Wisconsin, nor had he been in his car seat for as long as it would take to get him to his destination. Would this be a problem? Would Cranky Pete be joining us, or Nice Guy Pete? Both Peter’s Mom and I were nervous, to say the least. Fortunately, it was the good-natured fun-boy who drove down to Chicago with us. He slept most of the way, but he had some toys in his seat in case he woke up. One of them is a toy remote control we got him to try and get him off the TV’s remote that he loves so darned much. He didn’t like it at first, but since then has accepted it somewhat (even if he prefers the real thing). The toy remote makes noises when you push the buttons, and it has 3 different language settings depending if you hit the “Hello”, “Hola” or “Bon Jour” buttons. So you can get it to say “one, two, three…”, “uno, dos, tres…”, or “un, deux, trois…” in addition to the three greetings. Anyway, we’d be driving along thinking Peter was asleep and suddenly we’d hear this voice say “bon jour!” And then “bon jour! Bon jour! Bon jour!” So, he kept himself occupied pretty well.

We arrived at the restaurant early, but his Grandma, Uncle Mike, Uncle Joey, Cousin Elana and Cousin George were already there, and it wound up that everyone came in in stages so Peter was eased into being in a large group. And aside from moments of fatigue (only a few appearances of The Lip) he was pretty much a happy, charming lad. I think it helped that he wasn't the center of attention and he was able to observe somewhat passively for most of the evening instead of actively participating.

In other developments, he’s working on getting his butt up in the air for proper crawling. Up to this point he’s done a commando-crawl, but using only his left leg and right arm to propel himself. Now he’ll get up on all fours and rock back and forth a couple times. So he’s building up the strength and coordination to do an actual by-the-book crawl. We’ll see how long it takes for him to put all the pieces together. But we know once he does do it he’ll be flying all over the place.

The tale of the tape

We took the little guy to the pediatrician yesterday for his 6-month check-up. We had to wait forever before he got called in, and, wouldn’t you know it, there was another Peter in the waiting room, so there was a surge to go to the examining room when “Peter!” was called out. Fortunately, our Peter was the lucky one who got to be seen.

He had been having a nice time on his mom & dad’s laps in the waiting room, but when he got to the examining room and started having his clothes removed he kicked into unhappy baby mode. He’s not the type to engage in tantrums, but he did get fussier than we had seen him in some time. After about a minute of it, though, he calmed down so he could get measured. Maybe it’s all the coffee we’ve been giving him stunting his growth, but his height and weight are back down to the 75th percentile (27 ½ inches and 18 pounds 14 ounces, respectively). Meanwhile, his head has grown to the point that it’s now 75th percentile, too. At least he’s symmetrical.

Peter has also been requesting cello music of late. At least, that’s what I think he means when he says “ma ma ma” as clearly as he has been doing lately. He just probably isn’t able to say the “Yo Yo” part yet.

Half a year?

Saturday morning at 9:04 Peter officially turned 6 months old. To celebrate the moment we got out the camera, and wound up getting a bunch of shots of him with his hand in his mouth. I think it may be because of his upper front teeth threatening to break through at any day now, but there’s a lot of activity going on with his mouth. He’s drooling more than before, and he’s been grabbing my glasses at every opportunity to chomp on them (he got them at least 4 times yesterday). He’s also been waking up a couple times a night, crying a hurting cry instead of a hungry cry. Poor little guy.

When he’s feeling ok he’s been doing a lot more. He’s been having solid food (not solid-solid, but blenderized-to-a-fine-purée-solid) almost every night at dinner. This weekend he was given organic green beans for the first time. Now, Peter does not yet have the ability to speak proper words, but this does not mean he is unable to communicate complex messages. The first time he gets a spoonful of these green beans, he morphs his dynamic face into an expression which speaks the following words, verbatim: Dear sweet merciful God, what the heck was on that spoon? Then his face changes a little to express this: I gotta stop being a nice baby. Then he swallows.

We aren’t horrible, mean parents, so we disguise the beans with the rice cereal that he likes so much. Actually, I’m not sure if he hated the beans more or the bananas. The pulverized bananas we got had quite a lot of citric acid listed on the label, and it tasted more like lemon than bananas. I’d tell you what Peter’s face said when he had that, except I couldn’t tell because it was all puckered up into itself.

Peter is now old enough to really take note of the stimuli that surround him, and not just pretty colors or flashing lights. His reactions to sounds are some of the most interesting. About the only TV he watches is Sesame Street, and for the most part he is disinterested in it. Except when Prairie Dawn is on. Prairie Dawn is a Muppet little girl, that mostly appears with Cookie Monster to do the Letter Of The Day routine. We think it’s because of the voice, but when she comes on he lights up. Then when the sketch is done and, say, Elmo shows up, Peter loses interest.

Another audio advancement in Peter’s development is his reaction to music. A routine that Peter and I have developed when I get home from work is to put some music on and I haul him up by his armpits. Then he dances, mostly by bouncing up and down, but it’s rhythmic and distinctive. He prefers funk – nice, bouncy, rump-shakin’ funk. I’ve tried giving him slower, non-funky music, but he reacts to it like- well, not as bad as organic green beans, but it’s obvious to him that his dad doesn’t know how to pick music.

To finish up here, I’ll inform the world that Peter goes back to the doctor on Thursday. We think he’s grown at least an inch in the recent past (or his pants are shrinking), so it will be interesting to see what his new measurements will be. Can he crack the triple digits in his percentiles? Can he give 110%? We’ll find out.

PS - Bonus Halloween pic:

Some day he'll be old enough to eat candy...

Way back in the distant past, I posted a picture titled Halloween Preview. Yesterday, October 28th, was the official Halloween Preview, Trick or Treating in the civilized world of the metropolitain Milwaukee area (as opposed to the wilds of Waukesha County where they have the annual candy extotion on the actual night of All Hallows Eve - obviously there's something wrong in the head with them folk out there). Peter, bless his little 95th percentile soul, slept through the first half hour of the all the little ghouls and goblins draining the neighborhood of small candy packages, while his parents grew anxious with every sleepy moment he kept us from getting his piece of the action. Did we not purchase a precious lobster costume before he was even born? And he was asleep? Halloween for these new parents was not supposed to mean handing out candy to all the other kids and their parents. But, hark! What was that noise? Why, it was the baby monitor! Peter is awake and crying! Hurray! He gets to show off his precious cuteness in full effect! Huzzah!

(Yes, that's Cousin Elana as a bunch of grapes and her dad, Uncle Mike)

Ok, so we only hit about 10 houses total. But it was chilly and Peter's big mitts... er, hands were getting cold. So we cut the festivities short and returned to the party at his aunt & uncle's house, where he kept his motor going as he always does when three or more people gather with social intentions (Peter = party animal).

Eventually we got him to see his Granny well after the sun (and, er, the son) went down for the night. When he got home for the night he slept a good 6 hours before waking up hungry, so that was good...

The Last Nice Day

Yesterday was a warm, pleasant day. We figured it was possibly the last nice day Peter will see for maybe 6 months (and that's longer than he's been outside his mama's belly). So we packed Peter into his car seat and took his Grandpa out to a park overlooking Lake Michigan with a baby-seated swing set. He swung (gently) back and forth for about 10 minutes, having himself a very good time. He probably wanted to swing faster and higher being the little thrill-seeker that he is, but we're meanies and just let him go about a total of six feet back and forth. But he gave us a few giggles so it was worth the trip for us. There was a slide next to the swing, so I sat him on my lap and went down it a couple times, but it wasn't much of a thrill for him or me. We got him to slide down a couple times by himself (while we held his arms), but he likes swings better.

And now.... pictures.

Progress

About 10 mintues ago Peter sat upright on his own while on the floor.

This is apparently a couple months early.

Meanwhile, he seems to like watching Guys & Dolls....

The Happy Family

Pix Bomb 5

Pix Bomb 4

Pix Bomb 3

Pix Bomb 2

Pix Bomb 1

How big is big?

Peter now weighs 17lbs. 12 oz. That puts him in the 90-95th percentile, which is roughly the same as a month ago.

Peter is now 27 inches long/tall. That puts him in the 95th percentile, up from the 75th percentile month ago. This is not really a surprise since we had to adjust his bouncy seat twice in the past month due to his ever-lengthening legs.

His head measurement is in the 50th percentile, as it has been since he was born. Nice and steady, Pete.

He also was given a clean bill of health by his pediatrician.

Another new development is that the two front teeth of his lower jaw have finally broken through the surface of his gums. They’re jagged little things. Now he’ll no longer gum us, but it will be a proper bite. Now he’ll just have to learn that those things don’t feel good on us (and by us I mean his mom, for the most part) when he clamps down.

Before I forget…

Peter is officially 5 months old today. I’d get him a cake, but I don’t want to sugar him up, especially after last night…

Peter had a well-rested afternoon. He went to lunch with his mom and some of her friends from work, and then visited his old babysitter (y’know, from when Peter was just a baby) and her son. Mom and Peter picked me up after work and then we dropped off Mommy for a haircut. Pete & me (I know it’s bad grammar, but it flows nicer than Pete & I) then went to the bank and also picked up a book for him at the friendly neighborhood Borders – a Mom & Pop business, I’m sure.

When we got home, though, Peter decided it was play time. Most of the play time was normal and no different from any other time he got wound up. But after a while, I was lying on my back and I was holding him up in the air, which is one of his favorite things. I laid him down on my chest, and the next thing you know he slithered up to my shoulders and splayed out, pinning me to the floor. Smiling with glee, he pressed his gut into my face – smothering me, in fact – while emitting a devilish little giggle. Eventually his mom came to my rescue so I could breathe.

That, however, was not the end. I was still on my back and I held him up by the armpits again, standing on my chest. He buckled his knees a little, and let gravity pull his body down, the effect of which made his legs slide down my shoulders so that he wound up straddling my neck. This, he thought, was an even better wresting position that the simple pin. To celebrate his conquest of his old man, he did what he always does when he gets excited – he bounced up and down. On my neck. Repeatedly. I could barely get out an “urk, help!” But again, Mommy came and saved me from The Little Crusher (who, I must reiterate, weighs a ton).

No dummy me, after the 2 pins I got my back up off the floor so he couldn’t do it again. But just for good measure I held his shoulders down to a count of three. But he did best me, two pins to one.

Weekend update

Saturday we took Peter to a pumpkin and apple farm, thinking that it would be a good place to get some pictures of him being cute. We got a few, but he was a little sluggish so most of the pictures came out with him looking like he's being deprived of the life-sustaining sleep that keeps him going. Honestly, we aren't that awful - he did get some sleep in the car. And we let him sleep in the window at the restaurant in Cedarburg...







In case you might be wondering, no, he did not drop that pumpkin. He dropped a rather ugly looking gourd later on, but not that pumpkin.

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