A week of firsts

Sorry for the light posting, but all I've really been able to say, lately, is how tired I am. From what I understand, that's going to be normal for the next 18 or so years, so I thought I'd not harp on it too much right now. There will be plenty of time for "Guess how tired I am?" posts.

This was a week of firsts for Henry.

Henry's first outdoor concert (The Old 97's).Henry got to meet his newborn cousin Austin, for the first time:Henry found his thumb for the first time:

He even watched his first Bike Race - the Tour of Pennsylvania bike race went right past our house:

Completely enthralled...by Mom's Milk Machines!

Also, his umbilical cord fell off. Or at least, most of it did. There's still a sort of umbilical stump. The kid had a honker of a cord, at least as big around as my little finger, I'm guessing the healing for something that big has to occur in stages. I tried to convince Mom to keep it, in a baggy, as something we could use to embarass him or gross him out as he got older. She used her amazing powers of better judgement to overrule me.

Even with all of the excitement of sharing in Henry's many firsts, Dad and Mom both have their favorite moments:

I am Cornholio!!!

I need TP for my bunghole!

Parenting is not sleeping

And now, the real tiredness sets in.

Really, we can't complain, because Henry is a pretty good sleeper. He's already "sleeping through the night" - which sounds really awesome until you find out that "sleeping through the night" is usually defined as three or four hours at a time. Factoring in feeding, changing, and then rocking back to sleep, it's not unheard of to get 3 hours of sleep at a time. Doing the math, that means in order to get 9 hours of sleep - status quo for Dad - it's at least a 12 hour cycle.

I'm learning, slowly, to deal with less than 9 hours of sleep.

Anyways, usually Henry sleeps pretty well. I say usually, because sometimes Henry has a different routine he'd like to try. On those particular days and nights, Henry is like this during the day:


And like this at night:


Babies, says the book, are used to sleeping all day and partying all night, because they got rocked to sleep in the womb when the mom moved around.

Bonus Picture:

Surprise! Attack Baby!

First Father's Day

Luckily for Dad, Mom popped the little one out in time to celebrate Father's Day. Henry (with a little help from Mom, I suspect) picked out the cutest card. Less than 10 days old, and he already knows exactly how to tug at Dad's heartstrings. I mean it when I say that I'm keeping this card forever. Inside, it reads, "I'd follow you anywhere!"


Mom and I are trying to get in the swing of things early on, taking the little one out with us to do the things we would normally do. Today we went to the Arts Festival. Along for the ride, Henry's grandparents - my Mom, Lorrie, and my Stepfather, Alvin (the "Chinese Pierce Brosnan"). We found some cute things, but with the arrival of Henry, the price point at which we are willing to pull the trigger has receded. Greg Stones was there, who painted the two "Zombie Romance" watercolors for our anniversary a few years ago; We've now had two people suggest that we consider asking him to explore the idea of a zombie family.




While today's activities were fun, my overall mood is bittersweet; I'll be returning to work tomorrow. A week ago, time was at a standstill, and it felt like the days lasted forever. With the clock running out, I'm already sad for the time that I won't be able to spend with Henry. I've never noticed it before, but damn it, the days are just too short.

Henry, you've changed so much in just the few days you've been here. I can see the changes in you, especially in how you react to me and your Mom. You know our sound and our feel (Can you smell us, I wonder? You like it so warm in the house, is your little baby nose able to distinguish Mom's sweat from mine?). Dad's touch on your head and cheek is often enough to calm you down at night. The other day, you were inconsolable in your uncle's arms, but quieted almost immediately once I held you.

Son, I'm working to provide a life for you and your mother. It's a necessary evil, trading hours of time that I could be spending with you for the means to support our family. I hope that, as you grow older, you understand the reason I can't be with you all the time.

The Circle of Life

Siyo Nqoba
Ingonyama
Ingonyama nengw' enamabala
Ingonyama nengw' enamabala
Ingonyama nengw' enamabala
Ingonyama nengw' enamabala
Ingonyama nengw' enamabala

From the day we arrive on the planet
And blinking, step into the sun
There's more to see than can ever be seen
More to do than can ever be done
There's far too much to take in here
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high
Through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round

It's the Circle of Life
And it moves us all
Through despair and hope
Through faith and love
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the Circle
The Circle of Life

It's the Circle of Life
And it moves us all
Through despair and hope
Through faith and love
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the Circle
The Circle of Life

Fade to Black

The Girls Across the Street

Yesterday, Bynah (whose name I don't really know how to spell) rang the doorbell. She had made stuffed shells, and set aside a few extra for Mom and I. "This is your dinner tonight", she said. They didn't last that long; they were eaten for lunch before they even had a chance to cool. She also pressed a golden Sacagewea dollar into my hand, telling us it was for "Little Henry, his first gold dollar".

Everyone in the area knows Bynah, she lives in the house across the street, along with Agnes (Aggie), and a third woman whose name we don't know, and can't bring ourselves to ask. We've nodded, waved at, and even exchanged brief pleasantries enough times at this point, that it would too weird to ask. So, I'm forced to use my (well-honed, this happens more often than I'd prefer to admit) tricks for talking or referring to a person whose name I don't know.

There's also some dude (I originally wrote, "a gentleman", but upon reflection, I don't know a thing about him, so I fell back upon my favorite generic male descriptor, "some dude"). We think they are related, but are - again - too afraid to ask for clarification. Really, shouldn't we know this stuff by now?

Most evenings, Bynah sits on her steps and chats with the neighbors. Sue, from down the street, normally sits with her. Sue is friendly enough, but not afraid to share her opinion, as she did when we first told them Bonnie was pregnant. Sue asked if we had a name, and when we told her his name would be Henry:

"Ohhhh! Henry?!?! I hate Henry." We assured her that Henry was the name we had chosen, it being the only name we could agree on.

"What about Jack? Do you like Jack?" No, thank you for the suggestion, but he already has a cousin named Jack.

"What about Ben? Benjamin?" No, we like that name, too, but there's also a cousin named Benjamin.

"Well, maybe when he comes out, he won't look like a Henry..."

Sorry, Sue, he did look like a Henry.

Comedy Interlude, sponsored by 3.5 hours of Golden, Delicious Sleep

All baby and no sleep makes Dad a funny guy.

1. Awesome band name I thought up last night, free to a good home: Doctor Rocktopus

2. Snippet of conversation from one of last night's feedings:
Mom: Wow, he's really eating a lot, he's been sucking for 10 minutes straight!
Dad: I haven't seen anything like that since the last time we watched Grey's Anatomy!

Zing!

Proud is leading Tired, by a nose

Day two, and he's as cute as the proverbial button...when he's sleeping. Proud is still the best adjective to describe us, but tired is coming up fast on the outside.

Somewhere in the night, he made the expected switch from feeding every 3 or 4 hours, to feeding every 2 hours. When he's not feeding, he's pooping, being changed, pooping while being changed, or - and I need to stress that this exact situation has already happened twice - peeing straight into the air in the middle of his second change in a row, necessary because he pooped while we were sealing up the clean diaper originally meant to replace his dirty one.

Between the frequent feedings and the diaper distresses, there's really only time for sleeping or crying. We're eagerly awaiting the magical moment when he manages to be awake, alert, and not screaming his lungs out. I've got - ahem, he's got - all these toys he's going to love to play with.


We saw the pediatrician today. Apparently Mom's milk is packed with megavitamins, or something, because in the 2 days - 48 hours - since we left the hospital, he gained 6 oz. "Unheard of", he says.

Maxin' and Relaxin'

We've been home from the hospital for a full day now, and we're beginning to settle into a routine. Mom's in charge of the feeding, and Dad does pretty much everything else.

It's not as bad as it sounds, she's pretty worn out after the whole ordeal of pushing a baby out of her vajayjay, not to mention the pain of having him chew on parts of her body every two hours. Plus, after she feeds, it's pretty much just a matter of beeping (our word for burping) him, and waiting for him to fall asleep on my shoulder.

For a while, I thought beeping him was my favorite part, because he always passes out right afterwards, and it's pretty nice just to have him maxin' and relaxin' on my shoulder. However, today I realized there was something I like even better.

First Post!