Tummy Time Series

Yeah, we're sorry for the time between posts, I know some of you were probably going through some hard 08 withdrawals and so I want to reward you for your patience. Here's a series of pics of Kian during one of his earliest tummy time sessions.

First, concentration. Bite the nuckle: I can do this.

Think like a frog to be like a frog....

Gribbit!

Hmmm, what exactly did that get me?

Mommy! Daddy's making me do Tummy Time again!

12-Weeks Equals 3-Months!

Ladies and Gentlemen, can you believe it! The little Pumpkin is already 3-months old and his daddy has survived it. But I don't mean to say that its been hard or that he's been tough, its just that I never thought that I would be the father of a 3-month old boy and that I've been partially instrumental in getting him there.

This is another milestone because he's on the cusp of re-defining himself yet again: he's been a too tiny, eyes-closed newborn who blossomed into a roaring, always hungry, gimmie-something-but-I-don't-know-what, hold-me-now infant who is about to turn into the perfect little boy, I'm sure of it.

Is it premature to think of him as a little boy? When I'm away from home I seem to think of him as a boy, but when I get home from work and pluck him from his mommy or his crib cocoon (I need my fix) I realize just how small he still is. This is counter-intuitive from what I expected but is probably a conditioning from seeing my nephews only every couple of months and they actually had grown during that time period. I somehow expect to come home from work one day to Kian talking and walking, and maybe wrastling with his old man.

I just spent 4-days without my little boy, the longest time that I've been away since his birth, and it hurt. I'm still trying to make up for all the kisses I missed. Daddy flew out to Kentucky for a National-level Cyclocross race and he fared pretty well considering he'd been mostly injured for the previous month. Bruised tendons, pulled hamstrings, neck crick, etc, so I was happy to pull-off a couple results that would keep me in the series running. My next race in the series (USGP of Cyclocross) is in NJ in 3-weeks and the finale is in Portland in early December, and I think I have a shot to win it. Got to believe. But my goal is Nationals in mid-December in Kansas City. Thats the daddy update. Something from Mommy coming in a separate post.

A Walk In The Park: Cowen Park

It was a gorgeous, fall day. Kian the milk boozer and I were strolling through Cowen Park in Ravenna. I’m feeling glad that nature calms Kiki’s inner beast. So, here is his current top 10:

1) Being held by dad or mom (or anyone who will cuddle for-ever)
2) The dancing turtles
3) The mobile above his crib
4) Seeing himself in the mirror
5) The squeaky duck
6) A walk in the park
7) The black-n-white picture cards
8) When you come NOW
9) When you smile and giggle at him
10) Rocking and jiggling

Kian is opening up to the outer world. In fact, he likes to face outward now rather than his usual cheek to chest. He’s still prone to fussiness but he seems to be getting more settled. It’s a fine line between sweet and sour. Funny—he’ll be laughing jubilantly one minute and then remarkably, the lips and eyes switch directions and he’s fit to be tied. What’s up with that? Our attempts to sway him with our smiles work, but only to a point. Although his emotions seem raw and random at times, I do notice some refinement.

Kiki’s been to parties and outings where we pass his novelty among family and friends, some of whom, are thinking about having kids. I encourage those who elicit immediate cries upon his receipt, not to worry, that I didn’t have any experience with babies before having my own. Yeah—scary, poor kid! “Just read the manuals”, I say. Somehow, they don’t seem empowered. I’m just another rookie parent trying to figure Kian out much as he’s trying to do the same with us. I make plenty of mistakes but the bottom line is I love the little mister.


So, we’re sitting at a table at the park, I’m nursing Kian, and this seemingly normal, older fellow, looking like a jogger turns as he approaches the trail, and yells across the lawn, in our general direction: “Write me some notes”, …”You’re testing me”,…..”I didn’t ask for this”. Bizarre. After a few minutes of going on and on, I realized he was a little nutzo. I thought, “Dougie, is that you?”. He’s been asking me to write in my journal and today I’m finally doing it. My attention drifts introspectively back to Kian’s role in my life. I didn’t realize how creative the act of parenting would be, from conception to birth to my silly songs and offbeat melodies. I hope I can keep his interest in the years to come. Kian is a lesson on being in the moment, and he’s teaching me to be adaptive and patient. I’m amazed that Kian has sat this long on my lap cooing contently, another new record. We hear the jogger’s voice now echoing upward as he descends further into the forest, ”Write me some notes…”. You can hear anxiety in his voice. It’s like a cry. “He wants someone to listen, right Kiki? Kind of like when you’re crying and I don’t come right away”. I muse that we humans are all needy and selfish, a cruel judgment, perhaps. Then I consider, maybe that’s ok, as long as our greed centers around love and joy. Regardless, embracing life’s challenges and losses and doing whatever it takes to heal is so important. Call it faith or the ability to access our child-like naivete.

Sometimes you just have to ROAR! Kian is really good at this but right now he’s super cool? Did he plan all of this? Even though Kiki is really demanding, he’s giving us so much back. A “benevolent dictator”, as my friend Emily so aptly put it. I tell myself, and Doug too, “When Kian’s happy, we’re happy”. It’s true but I confess, I am often selfish, making him wait at times, allowing him to cry. I need to walk my own talk. Kiki, life is what you make it, so make it good! Kiss the ground, smell the flowers, change your dirty diapers, laugh, play, and never-mind that life doesn’t always go your way. And express yourself, even if it seems like no one is listening.

The Prince of Puke

Looking pretty regal like an Oriental Prince in his little cowboy onesie.

I've had this Indian-made string of turtles above our bed for a couple months now - it was going to waste hanging out in the corner of our baby room and so I moved it above our bed and its been mesmerizing me each and every day. But I never used it to its full effect until last weekend when I put Kian under its spell. Annie was still asleep but I snuck the rascal into bed with us. He didn't care for any tummy-2-tummy time but he loved it when I swung the tortuga string as he lay under it looking up. Its now one of my top 10 tricks when he gets fussy.

Just when you think that life with a baby is the bomb... it is!

Three Day Weekend: Thanks Columbo

Here's a few pics to satisfy those of you cute-starved-baby nuts out there like the grandma's in AZ, and my Aunt Barbara. Double-click on a pic to supersize-it. Too bad you guys can't bury your face in his neck like I can: Woooweeee, milky stink!

Sometimes I can smell him from the next room and it reminds me of that pervasive smell that sticks to grizzly bears, the filthy beasts, but no comparisons here, please. No matter how often we clean him and soap around his neck, after every feeding he burps and the spit-up immediately begins to sour in the thick folds down there. I've got plenty of picks to show it, video too, and I'm sure I could arrange to get one in 3D. No scratch and sniff yet, unfortunately.

"Genius Baby says First Words at 9 6/7-weeks"

Those are going to be the headlines on Oprah, but see the talking baby here first!





(Yes, thats a tooth brushing sound that you hear in the background courtesy of Annie.)

Baby's Got Back

I've been waiting weeks to use that as a title for one of my blogs but I just haven't been able to capture the moment on film yet, so lets see if I can do the moment justice in print.

So, after many months of diaper research Annie finally came up with something as eco-groovy and karmic-friendly as is possible which, when it comes to soakin up poop, its a pretty toxic affair no matter how you step in it. To borrow another Raising Arizona quote, "there's whats right and there's what right, and never the twain shall meet", the point being that this little essay will make just about as much sense as that. On one hand you've got to consider the diaper materials, the most earth friendly being the most organic and natural, free range and the most humanly killed fur as possible, while the evilest are those plasticy, throw-away kind. Then there is the disposability factor as the more artificial the diaper the more waste and the more toxic it is during decomposition. The furry kind of diapers are reusable, but they take up a fair bit of water and detergents as well as a pretty big chunk of time to do all that washing and folding. If Annie is all for it then so am I, even if there were animals harmed during the testing of these products.

But what I'm getting at here is not to sway you one way or the other on the argument, its that the multiple layers of diaper material make my babies bum look as big as Oprah's pre-weight watchers, and I don't mean proportionally. When the boy is sporting a full 3-layers of diaper he looks wider than he does long, and its actually pretty darn cute. I'll keep working on finding an angle that works and I'll be sure to share the image with you. After all, if a frog bump its ass a hoppin you should see Kians.

Also, we're told that Kian might be a boy genius because he's already said his first word and repeats it multiple times a day. That word is "hi", but we say that too him all the time and are sure he's repeating it. Annie and I are betting on which he'll say first, mommy or daddy and we're working him hard, but the books all say that universally the most used first words by babies everywhere is "ma", which makes me wonder what came first: did the sound "ma" get put into the word for mother in many languages because thats what babies first say, or do babies say "ma" first because its their mommy?

A 3-Day, 3-Dimensional Weekend

Kian from the Left.

We took off later than desired on Thursday night but we made it all the way to Newhalem, at which point, Daddy could drive no more: Annie and Kian had been sleeping for hours already and loud music was no longer doing the trick. Besides, we had our house on our backs... why hurry, so we bedded down at the roadside stop in town and slept to the pitter-patter of rain on the rooftop. Was this really Kian's first night in the Tortuga, I forget?

The next day we did a great little 3-hour hike on the East side of the pass up to Cedar Falls and Kian kicked-it in the Chariot. It was a tight, rocky, steep trail and the stroller did great but it was pretty much a grunt.

News on the photo front: I FINALLY completed the assemblage of my 3-D camera rig by picking up the final gadget that I need to sync my two identical digital cameras together, a pretty costly little device that I had been putting off for months. I have my two cameras now mounted side-by-side and with a push of a button they turn on together, focus together, zoom together, and trigger together. I've had an old Kodak stereoscopic camera for several years that I bought from my friend and 3-d inspiration, Marlin, but I just couldn't get into the time consuming tasks involved in exposing and mounting the slides.



And so I've just realized that all my 2-D images of Kian from this weekend are going to be either the left or right halves of a 3-D shot -- I don't think that I took one shot this weekend that wasn't meant to be 3D. My eventual goal and master plan will be to have YOU at home with a 3D viewer so that you can check out Kian in all his mutli-dimensional cuteness.

With a pokescope viewer you'd swear Annie had this knife at your throat.

Mr Bugabooboo turns 2!

It's hard to believe that its already been 2-months since Kian was born, but get used to me saying it because I'm sure this is just the way it goes. I remember waaaaaay back when he was a newborn and how darn tiny he was... 5, 6 pounds. I wish I'd taken him in a little more back then, watched him more, held him more, because now he's grown up into an infant and a virtual ogre, big and bossy, and I've learned to take no for an answer. What the bossman wants, the bossman gets.

But NOW he's coming out of his shell, starting to explore the world around him, to test his surroundings and the weaknesses of his parents. The tongue-trilling cry doesn't bring help from daddy anymore, just daddy with a camera trying to capture the moment.


Annie has a new swaddle technique that he hasn't been able to crack yet, and after a few minutes of violent protest he usually settles right down. While in the "straight-jacket", in the battery-powered baby bouncer with the mobile going and a host of other visuals in front of him, he usually mellows right out. A shot of bourbon helps too. Me, not him!

We haven't had to resort to this style of straight-jacket yet
because we consider duct-tape and velcro a next resort.

Baby jail.