7 week stretch

Wow has time flown since the last time I posted. Can't believe 20 days could go any faster. Nicole and I have been hanging on for dear life. Maybe not Nicole so much, but it really feels like I have. Wanting to spend time with Maddox is so hard when I also want to spend quality time with Nicole and when I need to spend some quality time with my job. Why can't there be 3 of me. Well... 4 if you count that one of me needs to do some yard work. Probably 5 if you add in that somebody needs to discipline our cat on the "new" house rules. 6 of me is out of the question... even though I could use the extra body to help cook and do the dishes. But lets be honest... 6 of me would be too much, especially when we all know it only takes 1 of me to get on Nicole's nerves... and only 1 of me to make Max cry. Such is my life though.


On the Max front, he is turning out to be the coolest thing that has ever happened to me. He is starting to gain control of his head, which, believe it or not, is one of the first steps toward world domination. Granted, his head isn't always steady, but he is moving it where he wants to. He follows me around the room, and the other day, decided he was tired of moving his head to follow me, and instead opted to just move his eyes. So smart! Now, if you balance that brilliance with me jumping around on either side of Nicole making weird shrill like noises to get Max's attention, you can easily see that he doesn't get this intelligence from his daddy alone. At least not with the display I was putting on. Sure, the shifty eye thing could also have been more about him being embarrassed than anything, but for now, I'm opting for smart.


He's also started to smile. And let me say, if there is something more moving than seeing your child smile for the first times in his life, I'd like to see it. I've never been more happy. It's so infectious and handsome. It's almost indescribable. It really lights up the whole room. He's going to be a lady killer.

This past week brought Max's "Granny, You" (aka Nicole's mom) out to see/visit her grandson. The "Granny, You" title was given to her as an idle threat by me... I think that she was getting out of line something awful, so I calmly introduced the idea of her grandmotherly name being just "you", if she didn't straighten up. Much to my surprise, it didn't really scare her off so much as spurred her to embrace it. All my power is lost. I really have my fingers crossed that stubbornness is not inherited. But no, having Nicole's mom out was great, especially because she brought gifts. I'm happy for Max. Nicole and I were both really excited for her to meet him. Equally as excited as when we got my parents and family to see him the first time. You want your parents and family to be impressed, but you also don't want them to fake it, you truly want them to be proud. It's funny. The excitement is more of a "Look at what we did"... almost like when you are a kid and you dress yourself for the first time. Looking back, sure, you might have just been wearing your underwear with a pair of mismatched shoes and knee high tube socks... but you know what, you did it yourself, and that is all that matters!

Max's next doctor appointment is right around the corner (September 4th). We couldn't wait... according to our measurements he's up to 24 inches long. Not sure about the weight yet, but he's definitely heavier. He has moved out of the 0-3 months clothes and is now somewhere between 3-6 months and 6-9 months. Mostly because of his length. He's still got some growing "out" to do. Also, in the tradition of all things parents, I have diagnosed his genius when it comes to eating and I think I caught him doing calculus between translating this blog to Latin and male modeling. He'll probably be the President...

Hair Raising

Yes, this is a picture of my son's "bed head". He probably has the worst case of cow-licks I've ever seen. Well... next to his dad's. Unfortunately for Max, that unruly hair is an heirloom. My hair grows in all directions in the back and is unnecessarily frizzy... just like Nicole's. He really had no chance. Poor little guy. Here's to some girl thinking it is endearing.

So a lot of time has passed since the last update. Last Thursday was his 1 month doctor appointment and he gained a whole pound in 2 weeks. He's now up to 8 pounds 13 ounces. Length wise, well some how the doctor's office still measures him at 21.5 inches, but I've seen how they measure angry kicking babies... they kind of "eyeball" it. They may say 21.5, but we all know he's a little longer. Nicole can't even feed him without putting a pillow beside her to catch his feet. So 21.5 shmenty-one-point-five.

Even if you don't consider the changes in size, he's still changing so much and so fast. He's starting to smile now... at Nicole mostly. I get a smile every now and then, but most of the time I get the angry face. He's starting to flail his arms and legs around a lot and his gaining control of his hands. He's starting to grasp things. In fact, I was trying to console him the other day by carrying him around... long story short, if his grip were any stronger, he would have given me a purple-nurple. There really isn't many feelings in the world better than the relief you get when you realize you are about to get hurt and then you escape. In this case, about the time I felt his hands go from flailing around my chest to zeroing in on the nurple, shock hit me, then the relief came when we found out that he isn't strong enough to deliver the full purple-nurple. Not many feelings better in the world. And he still continues to be the noisiest baby ever, even when not crying. All the grunting and smacking for no reason. All the farting and burping. It is the funniest thing ever. Sometimes the noises he makes, and the magnitude with which he makes them, sometimes I laugh so hard that I get all teary eyed. It's kind of rare for me, but there are a few things in life that really get to me, and this happens to be one of them. Who knew? Just talking about it now makes me laugh. We are really lucky he's a boy.

Oh, and yes... now let's bring the mood down a little. Let's talk about his "tummy times". Our pediatrician has prescribed 15 minutes per day of tummy time. For those unaware of what this is I will briefly describe. Since Maddox stays on his back most of the time to help prevent SIDS, he allegedly needs some help developing his back muscles and his neck muscles. So, tummy time basically means you put him on the ground on his stomach with his arms in front of him, to kind of force him to use his back muscles. So we've tried it and let me just say that there is nobody in this house that likes it. Nobody. We have yet to make it the full 15 minutes. We actually only make it about 10... with breaks. It's not that we don't believe in tummy time so much as not believing in baby abuse, which is basically what it is. He doesn't understand, he screams and yells and cries and whimpers and looks at you like, "Why are you betraying me? Why are you doing this to me? Et tu papa?" Oh man is it hard. To date, it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Not sure where we stand on keeping this torture going... hopefully it doesn't last much longer.

Other parenting news... we (Nicole) have started pumping the "good stuff" (i.e. breast milk) to bottle up and give Max later. What an interesting stage of life this is. It's one of those ideas that sounds great on paper, then when you actually get down to doing it... maybe not. Nah, Nicole and I both agree it is a good idea, it's just so odd and uncomfortable for everybody involved. There's really not a lot you can do except for joke about it. For instance, here's our latest running joke: Nicole's pump is one that has to be plugged into the wall. She wants to sit on the couch, so we need an extension chord. Naturally, the only one I could find was the big orange one that is typically used for lawn equipment. So whatever... we hook it up to the pump and as I go to plug this orange chord into the wall in our living room, I think (honestly), does she need a surge protector for this? Then it's like, really? Did I just think that? It's an honest question. (Surge protectors are the things that keep your tv's and computer's from frying when lightning hits the house and shoots too much electricity through the lines.) What would happen if she didn't have one and a storm blew through and lightning hit the house. Would it blow Nicole's boob off? Funny or not, we've been laughing at this for the past week or so.