CONOR DOES THE CROCODILE WALK
07/09/12 15:21
With each new day, Conor's getting better at walking. If you'll look at the daily posts, only two days ago you'll see how he fought my help to put one foot in front of the other. For a couple of weeks he wanted nothing to do with this cute walking toy given to us by our good friend, Michaela. Tonight's a different story.
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HOW MANY BABY CLOTHES IS TOO MANY
29/07/12 16:05
My wife and I have worked out a deal; I take Conor to daycare and she picks him up. This enables her to get to work early so she can leave early. That means I get to feed and dress him on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It seems every time I dress Conor for daycare, I can’t find clothes for him. I mean, I know where they’re located but there’s just nothing except clothes that are too small for him. Everything else has food or worse on them. I always say to Conor, ‘Tonight is laundry night.” Question is, “How many clothes do we need so that we’re not doing laundry all the time but we’re also not buying too much stuff?" I mean he outgrows an outfit about every two months. My wife would never let me count the clothes in her closet but she’s never said anything about our 9-month old son so I dug into his closet and counted the following;
1. 9 onesies (never heard of this word until my son was born)
2. 5 shirts
3. 5 short pants ( just bought two of those yesterday)
4. 3 long pants
5. 1 pajama (I forgot to buy 2 more yesterday. He’s outgrown the other 6 that still take up space in his closet)
7. 7 jackets (we live in New England these days)
8. 4 hats (he won’t wear any of them
9. 3 bandanas ( I forgot about them until I wrote this which means he never wears them.)
10. 5 pairs of socks he never wears because he doesn't walk yet and it's summertime
10. 1 pair of sunglasses that he also never wears
This doesn’t sound too extravagant for a 9 month old but it doesn’t sound too bare bones either. After all, a 9-month old can get into a mess pretty fast since he’s on the crawl, eats like a horse, and what goes in must come out. And that can sneak past a pamper on any given poo.
I’ll keep an eye on the intake and outtake of clothes because on one hand, we cant do laundry every evening with two working parents. But at the same time, too many clothes piling up doesn’t seem like a good answer either.
By the way, I’m way over the “Mommy’s little rocker” shirts and “I’m a rock star” baby clothes. Can we please move on to something more original. In that regard, I’ve discovered that 77Kids and Crazy 8 seem to have cool stuff this year.
Links about how much clothing we need:
http://www.keeperofthehome.org/2011/08/an-experiment-just-how-many clothes-do-kids-need-anyways.html
http://moneysavingmom.com/2010/10/my-minimalist-wardrobe-vlog.html
http://www.livingonadime.com/how-many-clothes-do-i-need/
http://www.ehow.com/baby-clothes/
- See more at: http://dadsdecoded.com/blog/index_files/archive-jul-2012.html#sthash.8lIKzwos.dpuf
CONOR TURNS 6 MONTHS OLD TODAY
09/04/12 17:49
I can hardly believe it. Our son is 6 months old today. I feel as though I can remember every day since the day he was born. And thanks to DadsDecoded, I believe I have documented most of them here. Wanting to make sure I teach him all the important things in life, I decided to teach him to drive today. The height challenge was the most difficult to overcome. We decided the old buddy system was the best technique to use. He would steer and I would describe which direction he was to turn the wheel. True, I also had to push the pedals. But it's only day one. By the time he's three, I'll most likely feel comfortable giving him the keys to the '57 Chevy Pickup I've still got stored back in Atlanta.
THERE'S A GOAT IN MY BACKYARD
13/03/12 23:20
Grandparents have the best songs for kids. The stuff we hear these days is watered down kumbaya crap. Conor's grandpa is singing about a goat that will knock you from foolish to silly.
THIS WAS BOUGHT FOR MY 4-YEAR OLD SON 15 YEARS AGO
12/03/12 17:09
In 1993, I went to the Borneo jungle for an adventurous vacation. I spent a week in the jungle to see the endangered Proboscis monkey and the endangered Orangutans. It was a hair-raising journey with only myself and a guide. On the final day of my trip, we went to the Sepilok Forest to visit the orangutans. These apes are super intelligent and also bold. They would come down out of the trees and steal people's cameras, hats and umbrellas. They would climb back into the trees and you could often say so-long to your valuables.
I fell in love with these apes and I thought that i would one day soon have a child that would love to play with this stuffed orangutan. It has sat in the closet for over 15 years waiting and just yesterday, I gave it to Conor. He laughed when he saw the hairy ape and began to hug it and play with it. Unfortunately, it started to shed and I got nervous he would swallow some of the hair so after a couple of minutes of playtime, I perched it on the top of the crib where it looks over him, but he can't eat it.
GOOD MORNING, SON
11/03/12 23:08
Conor awoke at 6am. He didn't scream. He didn't cry. He giggled. And gurgled. And played on his own. I tried to sleep with one eye open but it was no use. I had one ear on Conor. And one ear on my thoughts. Today is the first day of SxSW 2012 and I always get excited about what there is to be learned that will make me a better writer. A better marketer. A better leader. A better blogger. But right now, I decide it's better to just be dad. So I peel back the warm bed cover, walk over to Conor's travel crib, pick him up and kiss him good morning. He rewards me with the best gift a child can give his dad; he smiles at me with all the innocence that the definition offers. I'm proud to be his dad. And he's perfectly content to be my son. I revel in the glory. Knowing it will fade by the time he's a teenager.
THERE'S SOMETHING SPECIAL ABOUT BROTHERS
09/03/12 00:38
My brother and I don't see much of each other these days, maybe once a year as I live in Boston and he lives in Austin. As Conor turns 5 months old tomorrow, it was good for Michael to finally meet his only nephew. Michael was the first person i told that my wife was pregnant fourteen months ago and i still remember how a tear came to his eye. He was so excited to finally be an uncle and he was glad that I would finally get to understand the joys of being a dad that he felt as a father of four. We probably won't see each other again for 6 months to a year. And those two hours in Mondola's Restaraunt in Austin, Texas will be the only reminder of getting to see my nephews, Michael and Ethen, his his only glimpse of his nephew Conor until we meet again. It's far from ideal but as the world gets smaller, I somehow manage to drift farther from the town i once called home. Still, my brother and I always manage to find something that we still have in common and we hang onto those moments until it's time to say goodbye. This time, it was a conversation of both being dads and how good it feels.
WE'RE ABOUT TO FLY WITH OUR FOUR-MONTH OLD
07/03/12 10:22
Tomorrow, the Kolander family flies from Boston to Austin for this year's SxSW 2012 Interactive Conference. It's the first time since we've had Conor that we've attempted to fly. We skipped a holiday flight to Ireland in December because Conor was barely two months old and hadn't had all his vaccinations. Now, there's no excuse.
We're nervous. We remember being the kid-free adults cringing as the mother would walk down the aisle juggling a diaper bag, a screaming kid and hand-held luggage to shove into the overhead bin. I would always hope they would stop before they got all the way to my seat and sit down next to some other poor sap. But now, I'm the guy with the 4 month old, who at any given moment can explode into sobs of discomfort, annoyance or hunger. The question is, will I be able to intercept the audible pangs before they become the equivalent of fingers on a chalkboard for a plane full of business travelers.
This has led me do a little research on how to entertain kids on a plane to keep them in check. First of all, I didn't find any fool-proof method so that was a disappointment. But I did remember that before Conor was born I was searching website for kid tidbits and I found an article about traveling with a child. And that there's a baby hammock available that you attach to the tray table in front of you and the other half is attached to you. And the baby fits inside the hammock so you can see the baby at all times without him being draped across you for the entire flight. Well, I purchased that contraption before Conor was ever born and I pulled it out of the drawer last night. People swear by these things so I plan on trying it Thursday.
As my research continued, I really begin to see the advantage of buying Conor his own seat so I can use my infant car seat for him. We did not do this and I now have a call into my wife to see if it's still possible. (I would do it myself but don't have the flight information at my fingertips.) Many airlines offer a 50% discount for infants so this would help with the cost.
Other Tips I found that may help;
1. Relax, travel used to be fun! Let's just pretend it still us. If you are uptight the baby will definitely sense it and start to also get uptight.
2. Buy a seat for the baby to guarantee that you can use your infant safety seat on the plane — securing the child in one will make the trip easier for you and safer the your baby (typical 50% domestic discount but baby then gets full baggage allowance so easier to check in more stuff)
3. Have a bottle available for take-off/landing to keep the baby swallowing — helps lessen pressure in the ears. (Swallowing/sucking during landing is more important than during take-off as landing is harder on the ears.)
4. Pack at least 50% more diapers than you think you'll need, and extra wipes — air travel has a way of clearing out little guts
5. Get to the airport early — allow at least an extra 45 to 60 minutes for last minutes feeds and diaper changes pre-boarding, and getting through security is a time-consuming nuisance, especially with a baby.
6. Remember that despite what a few FT members think, infants screaming on planes is neither criminal or fatal. We'd all prefer to minimize it, but sometimes it is just gonna happen. And when it does, probably most parents on the plane are more in sympathy with you than angry (and secretly glad it's not their baby this time)!
Found at; http://www.flyertalk.com/forum/archive/t-406377.html
Here's a link to the Flyebaby report; http://airplaneflyingwithkids.blogspot.com/2010_11_01_archive.html
http://www.babycenter.com/0_flying-with-small-children-checklist-of-questions-to-ask-you_1460940.bc
WE'RE GOING TO NEED A BIGGER NIPPLE
06/03/12 22:35
We arrived home this evening to our seasoned babysitter feeding our little boy on the sofa. They both looked very much at home and comfortable. It only took a couple of minutes for the babysitter to let us know we were going to need a bigger nipple for our baby bottles. She announced that at almost 5 months old, Conor is sucking so hard to get the milk out of the bottle that he's wearing himself out and falling asleep before he gets the proper amount of milk. She then looked into her crystal ball and told us if he was getting the proper amount of milk that he probably wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night but instead could well sleep a full 10 hours without waking up. Valerie and I looked at each other and knew as soon as we got the babysitter out of the house that we were headed to Babies R' Us to get some bigger nipples. We'll soon find out if we get to sleep through the night. I'm starting to count sheep as I write this.
To find out how to buy bottles and nipples, click here.
CONOR IS WRESTLING BULLS INSTEAD OF COUNTING SHEEP
05/03/12 01:32
As Conor sneaks up on 5 months old, he is finally starting to play with his stuffed animals. And one of my favorites is Bevo. This beloved Longhorn was given to him by my longtime friend, Pat Vires, whom I went to UT with many years ago. After all these years, she hasn’t forgotten me and now needs to meet Conor. We travel to Austin on Thursday so he’s been wrestling Bevo while I sing, “The Eyes of Texas”. He laughs now but just wait until I introduce him to a real Longhorn. Then we’ll see how much cowboy he has in his blood.
POO WILL SOMEHOW BRING THEM TOGETHER
04/03/12 11:16
Yesterday, i was taking care of Conor while mom was out having lunch with a friend. I was trying to clean up my website which had bogged down because of content. I was mulit-tasking because I still had to watch the 4 month old while I boiled his bottles for the barrage of eating that was sure to take place throughout the day.
If you’ve been following this blog, you know we also have a 7-year old dog that has taken well to Conor. We keep tabs on them all the time so there’s never any chance of incidents. But I doubt if that would ever happen. Just the same, I was watching as El Dog would walk by Conor in his bouncy chair now and again and lick Conor’s toes, hands or face on a drive-by. At some point I noticed El Dog was spending more time licking Conor’s toes than the other drive-by’s. I watched for a few seconds and decided to get a closer look. Turns out El Dog wasn’t licking Conor’s feet but instead, had found a little diaper leak and was interested in more than toes. I pushed the disgusting mutt aside and whisked Conor up for a diaper change.
Why is it that one man’s disgust is another dog’s delicacy?
ONLY 10 HOURS AND 52 MINUTES UNTIL BEDTIME
02/03/12 16:41
Im sitting in here with Conor at my feet at 8am on a Sunday morning. You see, Valerie and I have a daily ritual; she gets up in the middle of the night for his feeding and at the first crack of light, it’s my turn to get up because he’s not going back to bed and she gets the last attempt at sleep before the day grabs us by the hair and pulls us around for the next 11 hours making us do this and that.
I’ve already fed him, changed his diaper, sang him songs and made bodily functional noises for which his mother rolls her eyes as I teach him the humor of the male species.. Now he’s only got 10 hours and 52 minutes left until he goes back to bed for the night. It’s not easy to keep a 4 month old entertained.
ONLY TIME WILL TELL
02/03/12 00:02
Every morning before I go to work I give Conor is very own concert. We start out with Twinkle, Twinkle plucked on the high strings. Then we move into “Desire,” I song I wrote years ago that the Dixie Chicks picked up and recorded. This is his favorite song and his arms wave and his feet kick the guitar as I play. Then we move on to “Pearl Handled Pistols” in which is grins as if he’s an old gun slinger reincarnated. And finally, I sing a song I wrote for him when he was 3 weeks old called, “What can little boys do when they try.” This puts him in a great mood for me to leave for work and hand the boy over to his mother. I wonder if he’s taking all this in to be a guitar player one day. He watches my fingers make the chords as if he’s memorizing them at 4 months old. Only time will tell.
MY SON JUST REACHED OUT TO ME FOR THE FIRST TIME
01/03/12 10:09
Today was a long day like most days at the agency. And the long ride home in the traffic gives me a chance to run the daily grind around in my head one last time before sugar plums erase just enough of the 9 to 5 so that I naively do it again the next day. So as I pulled up to the house and grabbed by computer bag and unlocked the door, I heard my wife call from upstair, “Hi honey.”
I dropped my bag and coat on the couch and headed upstairs where my son and wife were busy at the changing table. As soon as i said hi, my son smiled and reached out with both hands to be held. It’s the first time he’s ever done this and almost brought me to tears. I was speechless. I grabbed him up and squeezed him and looked at my wife and said, “Did you see that? You saw that right?” She laughed and her eyes turned red. “He loves you. You know that.” Yeah, but he reached out and acknowledged me and demonstrated some kind of love for me. Wow.
THE MAYOR JUST SHOOK MY SON'S HAND
28/02/12 23:57
In a strange set of circumstances, we found ourselves at a party with the Mayor of Quincy tonight where I introduced him to a group of concerned neighborhood residents. Mayor Koch is a very nice man and did the next best thing to kissing babies, he shook Conor’s little hand. Conor also got to meet Massachusetts Representative Bruce Ayers and his lovely wife, Maureen. In a failed attempt, Maureen tried to kidnap Conor and he was reunited with his parents in about 2 seconds flat.
MY FOUR-MONTH OLD STILL HAS BLUE EYES
27/02/12 08:54
Every day for 4 months now I've awaken to see my son with beautiful blue eyes. But brown eyes run in my family and brown is a dominant eye color. And it's well known that a baby's eyes can change colors up until 6 months old whereby the dye is cast. So the big question is, will Conor's eyes turn blue in the next 6 weeks?
MY SON JUST APPLIED FOR HIS PASSPORT TODAY
18/02/12 00:32
In front of me. A woman and her two children were doing the same. The boy was about 8 and the little girl was around 3. The mom was trying to get her son to hold the 3-year old's hand and the boy was too busy playing his portable video game. She kept getting more angry with him and insistent that he hold her hand. He looked at her and said defiantly, " That's not going to happen." she looked at him and asked what he said and he confidently repeated it. She looked back in her bag and went back to looking for something that she never seemed to find. I was so stressed and irritated at this behavior that I thought I was going to come out of my skin. I kept thinking really loud, just whack that boy and let him know you mean what you say. But she never did. And I looked at my wife and I looked at my 4 month old and clearly understood I am not capable of accepting this kind of behavior from my child. I also realize that the only way I could think to correct that child was to whack him; something I hope I never feel the need to do to my own child. Which is why it’s another good reason for me to start a dads group here in Quincy so that fathers can get together and talk about how to be better dads.
THREE DAYS ALONE WITH MY SON
24/01/12 00:34
My wife left for a 3-day seminar at 8am while Conor and I waved goodbye from our rocking chair. He was eating and I was holding one eye open while the other tried to catch up on the last bit of sleep that never seems to be enough. I was plenty used to waking up at 6-8am in the morning to feed him. Pretty much every morning. But on weekdays, I leave for work and hand Conor to his mom as he is wide awake after this feeding. And on the weekends, I play with him until about 11am when my wife leisurely wakes up and I hand her the child as I’m ready for a break.
But this weekend, there was no hand-off. He was all mine. For about the first two months of Conor’s existence, it was pretty easy, relatively speaking, to keep up with him. He was either sleeping, eating, pooping or burping. That was it. So I knew how to keep him happy by feeding him, rocking him, changing him or burping him. But something had happened in the last month that I hadn’t realized. After Conor wakes up at 6am, he doesn’t really sleep again until 9:30pm. If you do the math (and I had to count on my fingers), that’s 15 hours of infant entertainment that he’s counting on.
I sang to him and talked with him until I couldn’t stand the sound of my own voice anymore. Seriously, at some point as much as I wanted to tell him things and make commentary about what the dog was doing, I just didn’t want to hear myself anymore. I wrote Conor a song when he was 3 weeks old and I don’t care if I never hear that song again. If I never sing the words, “Twinkle little star," it’ll be too soon. My back was hurting from carrying him around and my head was hurting from thinking up ways to make him stop crying at times when feeding, changing and burping were no longer the instigators.
And that was just day one. After that, I realized I needed to regroup, just me, myself and I. This one-man show 15 hours a day was unsustainable. There was a new sheriff in town and things were going to be different around here. let’s mark ‘em off;
1. We initiated nap times. (I tried more but no luck.) I discovered that 11:30, approximately 5 hours after he’d been awake, he was willing to take a short 30 minute nap. And when he slept, my gosh, so did I. The second nap came around 3:30. This nap interestingly enough, lasted a glorious hour and a half. Like the first, I took full advantage and slept too.
2. Second, I needed to discover some more patterns out to maximize our efforts for play. These included;
a. guitar playing for about 20 minutes. He loves to hear “Twinkle, Twinkle LIttle Star” plucked on the guitar high up on the neck. He never ever failed smile at this. We then follow the concert up with a song I once wrote for the Dixie Chicks called, “Desire”. this is an adult song and he acts like one when I play it. He gets serious but is intrigued, He then will wave his arms and kick his feet, totally involved. During the weekend, I wrote a song for him called, “Big Dreams” and the recurring phrase is “Smiling, we just kept smiling”. Whenever I say this word, he breaks into a huge smile and kicks and flails his arms. It’s hilarious. Then we end the concert with...you guessed it, “Twinkle, Twinkle” plucked on the guitar. I tried playing the concertina for him (an Irish accordion) but he sticks his bottom lip out. He’s right, I suck at it.
b. I put him on my wife’s pillow and I lay down next to him and I read to him Mother Goose stories. Georgie Porgy makes him laugh but I have no idea why. I can read about 4 or 5 stories and after about 5 to 10 minutes he loses interest. But hey, that’s 10 minutes of laughter, bonding and quiet.
c. Next, we move to the crib gym, a gym i had as a kid. My mom sent it to me when Conor was born and he loves that thing. They don’t have them in the stores because they’ve probably been deemed too dangerous but I’m still alive and so is he. this can maybe last 20 minutes and since he can do this on his own, it gives me a chance to go downstairs and boil the bottles that have been collecting.
d. After the gym, he needs his diaper changed. Must be all that straining. After that, its time for a feeding. And if it’s not nap time thereafter, then we’ll move to the mat for tummy time where he lays on his tummy and in order to look around must pick his head up. This strengthens his neck muscles, which are getting stronger by the day.
e. I then just pick him up and walk him around the house, looking out the window and talking to the dog. He likes climbing the stairs. Must be the bouncing action. We do this for about 15 minutes and then I put him in his lounging chair and buckle him up. This allows him to look around while I prepare lunch, take a shower, clean the kitchen, living room or bedroom.
f. Sometimes, he just had to hang out on his own in his crib while I got stuff done like bathroom breaks, telephone calls, emails, etc.
3. Thirdly, I realized I couldn’t come a calling every time he cried or else I might as well have him superglued to me. So I decided sometimes when he cried, if I knew he had been fed, changed and burped that he was in no real need. I would look into his crib to make sure he was in no danger and then i let him cry. That is not easy to do for a new dad. But I decided it was in the best interest for both of us to get this part of the partnership. (This was actually how the nap part got instigated. I realized twice when I put him in the crib and left him alone that he fell asleep. Once he did it, I knew he’d do it again. And planned according to the clock the exact same scenario the following day and it worked. That was five days ago now, and it’s still working much to the delight of my wife!)
By the time the weekend had come to a close, I felt that I had gotten to know my son better. That we had found new ways to communicate with repeatability. And that by instituting some new changes like nap times, that I had contributed to the family in a meaningful way.
Now I’m on a plane to Germany to shoot two short documentary-like films as I leave behind my wife and son for the second time. It’s difficult but it makes it easier after spending three intense days with Conor. It’s actually more difficult leaving my wife this time because I finally know what its like for her to go through this every day of every week, not just three days. For her patience, love and understanding, I am grateful.
MY SON LOOKS LIKE A TURTLE
08/01/12 00:38
The pediatrician says babies needs "tummy time" a few sessions a day starting at 8 weeks old so that their neck muscles develop properly. This means we put Conor on his stomach and tuck his arms up close to his body so he can use them to lift his head up. We do this but he doesn’t much like it. He lasts about three minutes then starts crying as his neck muscles lose their strength and he does a face plant into the rug. He looks at me as if it's all my fault and I try to blame it on the pediatrician but he's no longer paying attention.
Experts say a baby can lift its head up at about one month of age. It can hold it’s head up while sitting at 4 months of age. And will have complete control at about six months of age.
Every time I read a statistic about child growth, I measure my own son up to it. And as usual, he’sright on schedule. Ah, that’s my boy.
MY FOUR MONTH OLD ISN'T AFRAID OF FIREWORKS
31/12/11 00:40
Its’ New Year’s Eve and there’s a fireworks display just down the street in Waterville, New Hampshire. So we bundle Conor up, and with our friends Carolina and Waldek, we head over to watch. Suddenly, the sky lit up and the noise sounded like a gunfight in Kabul. Conor peeked out from his blanket and watched quietly. He never peeped and never squirmed. He just watched quietly.
Do babies have no fear of the unknown or was he just mesmerized by the pretty colors? Hmmm...
BABY IN TOP 8% FOR BODY LENGTH
08/12/11 00:41
Our son is now 10 weeks old. It’s been a great 10 weeks. I think I can remember every day since his birth if I were to sit down and recount it. So in that way, it hasn't gone by in a blur. Every cry, every smile, every fart and every diaper change I witnessed is imprinted on my brain. And today's graduation from bassinet to crib is yet another milestone to remember.
No longer does he fit in the bassinet that came with our stroller. (Yeah, he slept in the bassinet part of the Uppababy stroller.) He is now 24" long which puts him in the top 8% of all kids his age. It's another indicator that he's growing at the speed of light. (He also doesn’t fit in his swaddles any more which is alarming since that's my secret weapon to get him to calm down and go to sleep. I'll have to hit up the baby store today since I forgot when I picked up the crib.)
Buying a crib was an interesting experience. From $299 to $1200, the cribs are displayed like new models on a car showroom floor; complete with display tent stickers that read, "Take this home today!" There were big cribs, little cribs, fru fru cribs and modest cribs. They came in natural, white, espresso and cherry. And even though every research study on SIDS says not to ever use bumpers on an infants crib, every single crib had a bumper set and its cost rivaled the crib purchase itself.
After studying strollers and finding myself thoroughly confused by the options, I decided not to fall into the same trap with the crib and so I didn’t google the subject at all. I made up my own criteria;
a. Must fit in the space we have allocated for the crib
b. Must be dark to match the other furniture in the room
c. Must be made of hardwood so it doesn't dent or scratch easily
d. Can't be over $500
d. Don't want to see the screws. Sign of cheap design to me.
e. Can't be overly ornate. We gave birth to a baby, not a king.
So after walking around for 20 minutes, my wife and I narrowed the choices to 2 cribs. We decided on the fancier of the two modest choices. The surprise came with talk of a mattress. The mattress was another $200. (And you can spend more.) Turns out you can buy a spring mattress that's either cheap and crappy or expensive and good. Or you can get a tempurpedic memory mattress that can be used on one side for an infant and then flipped when he turns toddler. They don't last for multiple kids but I'm trying to get through this one first so we got the tempurpedic mattress. Then some plain sheets and a duster sheet later and we were out of there.
It took about an hour to set up and was pretty easy. I remember how plain it looked without the expensive and colorful bumper set with the jungle animals on it. I looked like a cheap bastard when I placed the 13 lb. child in this vast space of a crib. It looked as though tumble weeds might blow through this empty cribbed desert at any moment. But since tomorrow is Christmas, I climbed up into the attic and fetched last year's fake garland and wrapped it around the top of the crib where Conor can't reach it. I even hung a few red Christmas bulbs and had instant color, warmth and holiday cheer to boot. And it cost a heck of a lot less than the fru fru bumper that we left behind on the showroom floor back at baby Central.
Conor or has slept in his new digs for two nights now and appears to like it just fine. Would he sleep better in a $1200 crib? I doubt it since we'd still have to buy the same mattress for either crib. So, I'd say Conor sleeps like a million bucks for a bit more than chump change. But he'd still rather sleep in my arms which is where he's sleeping right now. Sweet dreams.
OUR 8-MONTH OLD JUST TAUGHT ME THE MEANING OF LIFE
05/12/11 00:42
I woke up early Saturday morning to the whimpering of our 8 week old son, Conor. The past week had been busy and I was tired and exhausted. I rolled out of bed and groggily reached down to pick up the little noise maker. As I held him in my arms, he locked his deep blue eyes on to mine. And grinned mischievously. I froze. I was unable to unlock my eyes from his. He can’t speak but yet he told me all there was to the meaning of life; This is it. This is all there is. What happened yesterday no longer matters. What will happen tomorrow isn’t important. All that counts is right now.
And for two eternal minutes we lived in the truth. We shared with each other all there was to communicate. And then he farted and turned to stare at a crack in the wall I keep forgetting to repaint. I gave him a bottle, he went to back to sleep, and I headed out the door to a meeting. With Conor and happiness on my mind.
OUR NURSE'S SECRETS ON HOW TO KEEP A NEWBORN FROM CRYING
03/11/11 18:17
Before we left the hospital, the nurses were kind enough to give me a cheat sheet on how to take care of my newborn. The nurses said to me, “If Conor’s crying, there’s only 4 things that might be wrong. Go down the list in this order and you’ll have a happy baby;
1. Check his diaper
2. Try burping him to see if he has gas
3. Check his temp if he appears sickly.
4. Feed him.
This has worked for a month now. We simply go down the list until we get to ‘feed him’. After that, if he’s sleeping, we put him in his crib. If he’s still fussy, we burp him and sing to him until he falls asleep. If he stays awake and stares at us, we stare back and have a nonverbal conversation. If he continues to cry after being burped. We start over on the list above. It’s that simple.
Oh, and when we’re not just hanging out with him, we keep him swaddled. Swaddling is key. Be sure to visit the “How To” link about swaddling and also the video on how to swaddle.
1. Check his diaper
2. Try burping him to see if he has gas
3. Check his temp if he appears sickly.
4. Feed him.
This has worked for a month now. We simply go down the list until we get to ‘feed him’. After that, if he’s sleeping, we put him in his crib. If he’s still fussy, we burp him and sing to him until he falls asleep. If he stays awake and stares at us, we stare back and have a nonverbal conversation. If he continues to cry after being burped. We start over on the list above. It’s that simple.
Oh, and when we’re not just hanging out with him, we keep him swaddled. Swaddling is key. Be sure to visit the “How To” link about swaddling and also the video on how to swaddle.
WHAT REALLY HAPPENS DURING LABOR
20/10/11 01:00
Looking back at my last post, it’s surreal to see where my head was at and what actually happened in the delivery room.
As you may remember, after 3 1/2 hours of Valerie trying to endure and work with induced contractions, the nurses were relieved to hear Valerie say she would accept an epidural. And within 20 minutes she was doing so much better. She could once again carry on a conversation, smile and even eat lemon ice from a cup.
And then night turned into morning. And then the afternoon followed. Still, the contractions were not powerful enough to help the baby descend. And as the afternoon begin to see the sun set again from our picturesque MGH window view, 32 hours after labor had begun, Valerie had finally dilated to the point where the final push could begin. It was 5:00pm. We all hoped it might take an hour but the truth is, most first time pregnancies can go for as long as 3 hours. Well, I just figured my red-headed Irish wife wasn’t like most women and we’d birth this baby in one hour. All I can say is, all the hours of birthing classes and birthing videos wouldn’t prepare me for what I was about to witness.
The nurse began to explain to Valerie how she was supposed to push. The idea was to wait until a contraction began to build. As it builds, her job was to take a deep breath then push with all her might. Then do it two more times in the course of the 40-60 second contraction. Then rest up for the next contraction which could come within 2 minutes of the last one.
And with that, I remembered the breathing exercises from class, the hypnotherapy classes I took as a college student, and even the coaching from my tennis days. At that moment I decided to become my wife’s personal breathing coach.
The next contraction was starting and she was no longer breathing alone as I was there to breathe with her. I told her to take a deep breath and then to push with purpose. To push with a focus of where that baby was coming out. She gulped in a fresh breath of air and began to push. She turned red, her eyes closed, she grimaced and pushed with more might. I told her to focus. To be strong. She let out the last of her breath and sucked in another and pushed again. I was six inches from her face telling her to do it for Conor. It was time for him to come out. She pushed like a mother does when she’d do anything for her child.
And the next contraction began to build. She would whisper ever so softly, “Here it comes,” and the nurse would get down where she could see things and start her coaching which would set me into motion six inches from her face. I would say, “Okay, your time is now Conor’s time. You need to push and get that boy out of there. It’s time. And she would take her breath and push with meaning. I would say, “Focus that breath. That breath has a purpose. Be strong. Push, Push, Push, Valerie. Good. Let it out. Take another big breath and let’s do it again.” And again, she would grab a big breath out of the air and use it for herself, focusing it downwards where the baby needed to come out. And I would tell her kindly, “Push, push, push. Be strong, be strong Val.” Earlier in her pregnancy, Valerie had told me that her name means, “healthy and strong” so I had tucked this phrase away knowing I would use it on this day so that this as a private bonding word that would give her extra strength for the most important moment of her life and that of our first son.
Well, this repetition went on for 3 hours without fail. The clock was directly above her head so I watched every minute roll by as I hovered over her bed. My back hurt. My feet hurt. I was concerned from the lack of progress made by Conor coming down the birth canal. I was devastated at the pain endured by my wife. But my focus never waivered.
Our nurse, Susan was excited by the intensity of the process and at some point invited me to look at the progress of Valerie’s efforts and I will admit that in spite of my brother instructing me not to “look south or else you’ll faint,” I looked to see my son’s head and hair not far from this world. He was getting close to being born. This caused me renewed vigor to coach my wife into breathing with determination and focus. And she responded like few people would do. And remained in the zone as she had done with her first breath over three hours ago.
Finally, the doctor came in to see how close the baby was to birth. Her news was not good. We all took a break to hear her description of the situation. She reported that the baby had moved into the birth canal but had not come down far enough for her to use other techniques to coax the baby out. She was getting concerned. She asked Valerie if she was ready to call it quits. She said that most women who had pushed for three hours were ready to give up and she would recommend that we strongly consider doing the same.
Valerie said that she wanted to give birth without surgery if at all possible. The doctor looked exasperated but wanted to be true to Valerie’s wishes, too. She was clearly concerned and was trying to balance the safety of the baby and the wishes of Valerie. She took about 10 seconds to think it over. She then said that her staff was leaving the room for two minutes and for Valerie and I to talk it over. But to realize the health of the baby would soon be at stake. Val wanted to ask her another question as the doctor began to leave but the doctor turned around sternly and said, “You have two minutes to think this over. It’s your decision but I won’t put this baby in danger. Time starts now,” and with that she turned on her heels pulling the nurses out with her. I was surprised at the doctor’s attitude but realized she was sending the body language to us that this was serious and that bedside manner be damned.
We told the nurse if our baby wasn’t in danger and could safely take another series of pushes that we wanted to keep trying but not at the expense of our baby’s health. The doctor was surprised. “You want to keep trying even after 3 hours of intense pushing, Valerie? I’m telling you, no one’s going to blame you for giving up after 3 hours.” Valerie looked at the doctor and said, “I’m not giving up. I want more time. I can do this.” The doctor was impressed and shook her head with appreciation. “I’ll give you 1/2 an hour more time, Valerie. We can do that much safely. After that, if there’s no change in Conor’s progress, I’m taking over the decision making, okay?” We both whole heartedly agreed to give her the last say after this.
And the pushing began again. The coaching started anew. And this time, Valerie didn’t cry between pushes. Instead, she gathered her wits, her breaths and her courage. And pushed with a determination to which I never knew she had. I call it the American pioneer woman spirit. I was always impressed with how the female pioneers of America would cross the country in a wagon or walking and do so without whining, crying or collapsing. They would give birth along the way, endure starvation, go weeks without a bath and walk in dirty clothes and crappy shoes. I like a beautiful woman as much as the next man but I like to know my wife has what it takes to survive if the time ever demanded it. My wife in this last half hour proved to me that I had married a woman who was 100% woman when times allowed and had that pioneer spirit when that was asked of her.
I’m going to get ready and the nurse is going to explain what’s going to happen next. Next time I see you, you’ll have a brand new baby boy. And with that, she turned and left.
(SEE NEXT BLOG FOR WHAT HAPPENS NEXT)
WHEN TRADITIONAL LABOR TURNS C-SECTION
08/10/11 00:57
Valerie spent a few minutes trying to wrap around the new plan that was now underway. I was concerned that both Val and our son’s health were now in jeopardy. The doctor assured me everything would be fine. The nurse explained that I was to put on the scrubs that an orderly had brought into the room. As soon as the surgery was underway, a nurse would escort me into the operating room. The nurse explained it would be in my best interest not to look at Valerie until they had positioned me behind the curtain where it was safe to look about. With that, they wheeled Valerie out of sight and I was left alone with my thoughts.
I took the moment while waiting for the nurse to come get me to call my dad to tell him what was happening. We had recently mended fences after years of separation and it was good to confide in him my nervousness about what was happening from a husband/father point of view. My dad listened compassionately and gave me words of encouragement. I won't lie, I spoke with tears in my eyes and sniffles and in true form dad told me to pull it together. I didn't really appreciate that comment to be honest. I had pulled it together for 36 hours of seeing my wife in pain. I needed a moment to share my real emotions and while he listened sympathetically, I think he thought I was not handling the situation with confidence and of course I was. But even the strongest people need to share their true feeling with someone. Still, I knew my dad was just trying to remind me that I had to be strong for Valerie and he didn't know these tears were my moment to get rid of them so I could put on the confident, positive face in just three more minutes. I didn’t scold him for his comment. I took it in the spirit it was given. We hung up as the nurse said that it was time to bring the baby into this world. I put on my surgical mask and hair net and didn't even think about how they wear these same nets at McDonald’s and The Picadilly Cafeteria.
When we entered the OR, it was really busy. It seems there were about 8 people standing around Valerie and I didn't dare look. I already know her inside and out but didn't want to know literally. I thought I saw some body organs sitting off to the side but I'm hoping I was wrong. I went to Valerie’s side and asked her how she was dinged she smiled through tears. I asked if there was anything i could do. She whispered, “Could you please say a Hail Mary for us.” So I started to say a very quiet "Hail Mary." Then I realized she was saying it with me so I said it a little louder. Then I realized I could barely hear her because of the suction of the machine sucking at her body fluids on the other side of the curtain. There were machines beeping, doctors barking out orders and swooshing sounds of body liquids. I started praying louder so she wouldn't hear the sounds of her inner body being opened, pulled and sucked. As Val laid on the table, her body was being jostled as they pulled the baby out of the birth canal and back up into the womb. You could hear the doctor directing the other doctor as if he were an air traffic controller guiding a plane in for a landing. I left the "Hail Mary’s for a few "Our Father's." It helped drown out the noise and it begin to give me confidence again. Valerie was strong and said her prayers right with me. Then the tugging stopped and the chatter got quiet. Suddenly a baby's cry filled the room like an opera singer at the MET. It was the most beautiful sound in the whole world. And instantly, our prayers had been answered. We prayed with more vigor now, thanking God for the gift he had just bestowed on us.
The doctors and nurses cheered and hollered congratulations to us. There was laughter and ooing and ahhing. A nurse hollered "8 lbs 14 oz.” Then a nurse came to our side of the curtain and told me to grab my camera so I could meet our new son. I grabbed the camera and walked over to the warming table where a kind African American nurse was finishing cleaning off my son, Conor. She asked me if I would like to cut the umbilical cord. After all we had been through, cutting an umbilical cord didn't seem all that queezy to me so I grabbed the scissors and cut the cord that separated my son from his mother. He was now a free man. I snapped more pictures but found it very hard to wrap my head around the fact that he was my son. It just wouldnt sink in. Regardless, I knew that he must be mine and so I kept talking to him as if he were.
Then Nurse Amy came over we took the baby over so Val could see him. Valerie had a big smile on her face and she looked longingly at our new son. Her arms had been strapped to the table so that she didn't accidentally move during the delicate surgery which now meant that she couldn't hold the baby. At least she could see him and talk to him. I took pictures and even a little bit of video to record the moment for all time. Only one time in your whole life will you have a first child and look into his eyes for the first time and this was that moment. And it was indeed momentous. It was surreal. Our lives as we knew it would never be the same again after this moment. A lot to take in and it flooded forth like the waters over the New Orleans levies during hurricane Katrina. I continued to take pictures as if I could slow down time in bite sizes so I take it all in. The responsibilities continued to pour in faster than i could sort them out. Little did I know that two weeks later I would still be trying to sort it out and wrap my head around the awesome responsibility I now faced.
Finally, a nurse came over and explained that because Valerie had gotten a slight fever during labor that the baby needed to be checked out further in the nursery and would have to be treated with antibiotics to ward off any infections that might ensue. I asked the nurse if I could come with her. She explained it was against hospital policy but that she would reunite us soon. I hated hearing that and I think it's wrong that a dad can't accompany his newborn when he undergoes a few tests in the nursery. But now was not the time to make a scene and I was just so happy that he was alive that I let him go with the nice nurse.
As they begin to sew Valerie back up, I was invited to go back to the delivery room we had been holed up in for the last two days and the nurses explained that Valerie would be along shortly. I got back to the room feeling relieved after all that had happened after 36 hours of labor. I remember leaving my dad only minutes ago concerned for the safety and health of Valerie and our son so I decided to call him first to tell him everything was okay and that everyone was safe and healthy. He was not only relieved but also touched that he was the first one to hear the good news. I think for a new dad to call his dad to tell him his new son is alive and well is a nice passing of the torch. We said goodbye and two proud fathers were left with our own thoughts. Soon, Valerie returned to the room and we looked at each other proudly and compassionately. We now knew each other more closely and intimately than ever before. Valerie had been to the brink of what is humanly possible and I stood with her every step of the way, never leaving her side for so much as a bathroom break or a moment to rest my aching back. It all seemed so trivial compared to her efforts.
Now I could sit back as she lay back. The nurses brought our son back into the room and they placed her on Valerie's chest. Our family was back together. And I never let either of them out my sight until we left the hospital five days later.
And that is how our family of three began its journey together on October 9, 2011.
TIME FOR A SECOND OPINION ON DOG VS. BABY
01/10/11 22:34
Early on in my wife’s pregnancy, I wrote an article on how dogs and newborns get along (click here.) As the final week approaches until our first child’s arrival, we decided to get one last opinion on whether our dog can handle a newborn and whether or not we needed to beware of anything. So, after finding a trainer that specializes in training police dogs as well as public canines, we decided to have our dog evaluated by a respected trainer.
We arrived in the quaint and upscale neighborhood of Brookline Village as the sun was setting. I easily found a parking place and fed the meter its quarters. It ate them like a hungry dog at dinner time. Then myself, Val and El Dog marched across the street to the training center. There were dogs milling about and El Dog was extremely alert as the strange dogs passed by.
As we entered the facility, we were told to go downstairs where our trainer, Francis, was waiting. We pointed out that our dog wasn’t perfectly socialized and may cause a stir. The trainers said, “Great, you’re at the right place. Go downstairs where the dog will get socialized.” So we headed into the basement via the creaky, narrow staircase.
When we got downstairs, there was a class going on and there were 6 dogs in a perfect down stay as a clown of an instructor was skipping around, making a loud racket, juggling tennis balls and letting them fall where they may. The exercise was to teach the dogs to remain in a down position even with the highest distractions around them. It was teaching them self control. It was working. Only one dog popped up to play with the tennis balls. The others were bored and looked at their owners to see if they might be able to play. The owners did not give them permission. It was impressive to watch.
Meanwhile, our dog was excited as hell and wanted to run into the room and grab tennis balls and wreak havoc. El Dog looked at me and I shook my head,” no.” He begrudgingly succumbed and stopped pulling on the leash. Then Francis, our instructor, came over to evaluate El Dog. He pet El Dog and El Dog sniffed him and decided that Francis was okay. Francis asked Val how far along she was and when she said 9 months, he suggested we get started training immediately. We all laughed. Seems everyone has a joke about a pregnant lady ready to give birth.
It’s important that the dog know his place and be happy in that place within the pack. When the baby arrives, we want the dog to be happy there’s a baby in the house, not disappointed with the baby. And he said that it’s easy to do. He asked us if we had a baby doll that could stand in for the real baby that was on its way. We told him we had one. He said, “Do you have the baby powder and diaper cream and other stuff that you can put on the baby doll?” We told him that we did. He said, “Great, put it on the baby doll and pretend that baby is your baby. Walk around the house and gush over it like you will your real baby when it arrives. When the dog comes over to check it out, it gets treats. Then when it decides the baby is no big deal and that it can lay down, the dog gets a treat for that, too. It’s good to be around the baby and its good to leave it alone. That's the message.
Valerie had lots more questions. “What if the dog thinks the baby is an animal and wants to eat it? The trainer looked at Val like she had three heads. “Why do you think the dog would want to eat your baby?,” he asked. “Well, you hear about those things in the news,” Val said matter-of-factly. The trainer agreed that these things happen now and again but that it’s rarely the fault of the dog. It’s almost always something the owners did with the dog that eventually ratchets up the dog to do something drastic.Val pointed out that our dog wasn’t exactly social around other dogs and would this cause El Dog to act differently than most dogs? The trainer said, “Well, do you mind if I take El Dog and work with him for a minute?” ”Go ahead,” I said, “but I need to know that you’re not going to do something drastic with my dog like pick him up off the floor by his leash or anything like that because that’s not okay with me.” He said that’s not how he trains dogs but that it was a fair question. So I gave him El Dog and he put a pinch collar on him and took him out into the room with the other dogs and had him stand there while the other dogs were in a down-stay. El Dog just stood there and watched the other dogs. At one point, he decided he wanted to smell the doberman closest to him and the trainer gave him a stern pop of the leash and El Dog no longer was interested in sniffing the doberman. After about 3 minutes in the middle of the room with the other dogs, Francis came back with El Dog and said, “I’ve seen enough to tell me what I need to know.” Val and I both leaned forward and said, “Well, what did you see?”
Francis said, “Your dog’s not even on my radar.” We leaned closer. Francis continued, “If your dog was aggressive beyond a healthy dose of canine aggressiveness, He would have lunged, at those dogs. As soon as I gave him a correction, he backed down and said, “Francis, you’re the boss.” He allowed me to be the protector. Your dog is good, trained and smart. He just needs to be fine-tuned. He said that many Pitt-mixes have a dose of aggression but that’s it’s natural and they simply need to know how to control it and channel it through play, exercise and self-discipline.
After an hour of talking to Francis, we felt comfortable that he was the trainer for us as we learn how to fine-tune our abilities to train El Dog and continue to socialize him with other dogs so that he’s a pleasure to take on walks with our newborn no matter who we come across on the streets.
As we begin to wrap up our conversation, a few people with German shepards began to arrive and a trainer came in dressed all in quilted leather from head to toe. I recognized this from videos; shutzhund. This is a very specialized training for advanced dogs. As part of the training, the dogs are taught to attack on command. We found ourselves in the middle of a class of attack german shepards. El Dog was on full alert. The first dog marched around the room with his owner looking every 1/2 second at his owner as they walked. This dog was amazingly attentive and alert. He looked like he was having fun. Then the owner took him off his leash and gave a command to attack the trainer. Suddenly, the dog went from alert and smiling, to growling, barking and biting. It was a treat to watch a dog channel his aggression appropriately and only on command. El Dog was at full attention, he head was straight up and cocked to the side, trying to figure out what was going on and his tail was wagging.
We agreed that it would be amazing if he could control himself in the midst of such aggression nearby. We said our goodbyes and headed upstairs and out the back door into the dark alley. As we exited onto the safety of the Brookline Village sidewalks and onto the perfect village storefronts, it was like stepping out of a movie and back into reality. We looked at each other and begin to laugh, “What just happened back there?” It was surreal. In a dark basement in snobby Brookline Village, was a team of African American dog trainers teaching police dogs how to attack criminals and young professionals how to control their dogs on the quiet streets of provincial Boston. And after an hour in the underbelly of Boston, we had been regurgitated back into the safe, quiet, picture-perfect streets of one of the most prestigious neighborhoods of Boston.
We took El Dog back to the car, locked the doors and dipped into a chic Italian restaurant called, Pomadero, and I sipped a red wine and had spaghetti while Val had Carbonara and settled for water. After all, she still can’t drink for three more days. Or until our first child enters the world and rides El Dog, our pit-mix, into the sunset.
SURVIVING HURRICANE IRENE WITH THE FAMILY
28/08/11 18:21
This weekend, I recognized another first for me as a dad; instead of running around Boston taking pictures of Hurricane Irene and the potential devastation, I prepared my own home for the possible damage to protect my wife and unborn child. I left the daring adventures for the dare devils.
We live right on the ocean so when the winds bear down, there is nothing to slow them down. I’m the house that slows the wind down as it enters Massachusetts. So I started by moving all the furniture from the front of the house into the backside of the house in case the windows blew out from the 80mph winds that were expected.
Then my wife and I lined the window sills and wooden floors with towels to absorb the rain that may find its way in. I went to the store and stored up three days worth of food and ice in case the electricity went out; which it just did one hour ago. I bought an extra ice chest to store the food (and beer.)
I removed all the musical instruments from the window areas and safely stored them in the upstairs bathroom. I charged all the phones, ipads, computers and weather radio.
Val and I decided to sleep downstairs in the back bedroom with smaller windows for extra safety. I took my Navajo flute and played to Valerie and our unborn child until both fell fast asleep last night. I woke up about every two hours to check the house and weather and to make sure that everyone was safe.
This morning I woke up with the sun at 6am and saw that the seas were rough and the boats outside the window were being tossed on the ocean like Tommy the Tugboat about a drunken night out with the boys. But they held on to their moorings for dear life.
After making the family a breakfast of pancakes, I grabbed my camera and went out to survey the damage to the neighborhood. Two 150-year old trees decided to call it quits as they fell to their knees across Crabtree Road and yanked down the powerlines with it. Other powerlines had blown over in the massive winds and were dangling like puppets as the other powerlines prevented them from falling to their death on the causeway into Wallaston Beach.
After seeing the damage, I decided I’d better get back to the house in case more trees stranded me from returning, leaving my pregnant wife alone in the house. As we only have 4 weeks left until the baby’s born, I didn’t want to chance that she might go into early labor while I’m out taking photos and assessing the damage.
I decided to drive by Orchard Beach to make sure our dinghy had held tight to its mooring and was pleased to see “Diddly I” bouncing furiously on its mooring. Kind of reminded me of our little Bean tossing inside of my wife these days. That little guy is ready to come out. And in no time, he’ll be in this world.
Hurricane Irene has been downgraded to a tropical storm now and while the wind is still blowing, it appears we dodged a bullet here. And I can return all the furniture to its places, the musical instruments can leave the bathtub, and our family can go back to its usual activities. However unusual they may be these days as we prepare for the coming of Bean, our first son.