Baby Grab

Been a little while since the last post. Nicole and I have been busy. Us and baby Maddox have a whole flock of holiday visitors all set to get his first Christmas started off right. I'm really looking forward to it. Nicole and I both are. We've been trying to get our house ready for the holidays... painting, cleaning, organizing. We're not really sure what to expect because we haven't hosted anything, let alone an actual Christmas. So we're doing everything. I've even done some near tragic electrical work. My father and I installed a new chandelier and I re-did some electrical outlets. Changing them from the dingy off-white they were to the bright white they are now. And, when I say bright white, I really mean bright white in the same context of electrical sparks. Here's how it went down:

• Nicole: Are you going to change the outlets without turning off the power?
• Me: No response, just working.
• Nicole: Hey, don't you think you should turn off the power first?
• Me (annoyed at being questioned): I didn't have to on the first 2. I've done this before you know.
• Nicole (still questioning): ... mmm okay I guess.
• Me: No response, just working... and thinking about life and having doubters.
• Me (2 seconds later with the same face you get when being unexpectedly popped by a towel in the bathroom): "....." (as sparks engulf me from the wall)
• Me (next outlet, obviously too stubborn to turn off the power after the previous Hiroshima): (Same face as before, but with a hint of unbelieving). Damn.
• Me (2 minutes later, happy to inform everybody): Okay, the power is off now.

So, despite the troubles, things are good. I doubt anybody will notice the white outlets in the dining room, but if you do, now you know the rest of the story.

Life with baby is getting better by the second. Maddox is such a great son. Nicole and I really did get lucky. The only time he is not happy are when he encounters one or several of his new found dislikes. Here's his short list of dislikes, in no order: Hunger, Dirty diapers, Being sleepy, Having remote controls fall on his head while sleeping, and last but not least, not being held when he thinks he should be held. Other than these 5 things, Maddox is usually always happy. But when he's not happy, he's really not happy. It's almost funny how upset he can get. But we rarely see it, so life with him is good.

Lately he has learned 2 new tricks: grabbing things and making noises. All this really happened in the last few weeks. The noise he makes is really funny. He doesn't say any words yet, but he has noticed that he can control the noise somewhat. I say somewhat because he hasn't really mastered voice inflection yet. So he's really got one pitch to his voice. And it's eerily similar to a growling baby bear cub. Since he can't do the voice inflections yet, really all he can control is the length of the sound and when to do it. It's really funny. The length of the noise is almost always a full breaths worth (5 to 10 seconds). I guess his reasoning is why do less? And the when to do it is either while biting your face (his favorite past time lately) or letting us know that even though he is in his crib, he's still not asleep. Both are great. It's things like this that really make being a parent fun. I really love it.

Oh, and the grabbing, yes. How could I forget. Step one for him is grabbing anything within reach. He hasn't perfected it quite yet, so in all honesty, he swats at things about the same amount he grabs them. Mostly because his brain is just a half second behind at the moving objects at this point. It's still a little too new to him. So when he misses (or swats) it looks a lot like King Kong swatting at planes while climbing the Empire State Building. Oh, and should he actually catch hold of something, step 2 is "Put in mouth".

Max Cat

So, yeah... I know what you are thinking... why isn't the post titled "Baby Candy Corn" or "Candied Baby"complete with pictures of a baby Max adorning a beautifully crafted Candy Corn outfit... yeah okay, so I messed up. Let me attempt to explain to you why baby Max wound up in a cheap/dodgy tiger outfit for Halloween instead of the overly-hyped, homemade candy corn costume.

The real reason Max wound up a tiger instead of a candy corn is because we all got sick. In my first experience of sickness hitting our family with a newborn, I now realize that when somebody gets sick, everybody gets sick. I'm not sure who gave it to whom, but what I do know is that having a sick baby while you yourself are sick sucks. Especially when the one who does most of the work around the house is sick too (Nicole). It was terrible. We were a pathetic bunch. Max had probably the worst cold I've ever seen and he didn't feel good at all. He cried and coughed and puked and gagged. Minus the puking, I was right there with him. He had a fever and congestion so bad that he didn't sleep well. So as a result, we didn't sleep well.

And to help out, Tylenol decided to pull all the infant decongestants off the shelf. We had some from before when we accidentally bought the wrong stuff, but that ran out with a quickness. So we were stripped down to the bare bones of illness. There was nothing left but for us to feel miserable together. And for the record, seeing a sick baby cry because he doesn't feel good and doesn't understand why he feels bad is easily the most terrible thing I've ever seen. And I've seen some pretty terrible stuff. I've seen my favorite dog ran over before my 8 year old eyes for crying out loud! But it doesn't compare to baby Max. Poor guy.

So, long story short, we didn't feel good. We didn't think Max would feel like dressing up in a crappy homemade costume, so we let it ride. Then, miraculously, Halloween arrives and Max feels better. Nicole and I are stunned... realize we have no costume for the little man, so we scramble after work on Halloween day to find a costume for him. Naturally, all the costume shops were sold out. So we try target only to find the aforementioned tiger outfit and tons of Christmas supplies. (In OCTOBER!!). I did toy with the idea of dressing him as a Christmas stocking, and while funny, would have been disappointing for all of us. So we went with the tiger outfit, and I must say, he pulled it off. What little time he tolerated it, he rocked it. By far the cutest baby tiger I've ever laid eyes on. Not to brag, or imply that this is anything to brag about per say, but he could really be in a zoo. And, probably not just any zoo, but the San Diego one.

Other news... Max continues to explode in size. He's now doubled his birth weight, something that is normally not done until 5 months (he's 4 months now and he's coming off an illness). He's also grabbing at things now. He's really good at grabbing Nicole's glasses and pulling them off and trying to stuff them in his mouth. Usually what happens is he gives her lenses a thorough cleaning. It works well for all parties involved. Oh, and finally... he's starting to arch his back off the ground. Allegedly the first step in rolling over. I think he might be a little behind the times on this, but in his defense... why would he need to rollover when we carry him everywhere? It's what happens to cute babies... people do stuff for them for way too long. If I were any uglier I would've had to start feeding myself by now. But, people just want to do it, so who am I to judge?

Here's some new pics for your enjoyment:

Day Tripping

Well, we've successfully completed 1 week of daycare. Maddox is getting settled in. Nicole and I are so lucky to have such an easy baby. I really, honestly think he enjoys it. His teachers both love him and work with him. I'm positive he's their favorite. He's got to be. He's so handsome, how couldn't he be? Truth be told, Nicole and I did check out the competition (i.e. the other kids and their cuteness levels). Here's the run-down: He's in a room with about 5 or 6 other kids less than a year old. So we did a quick check to see how Max ranked on the cuteness factor. Not to intentionally be mean, but let's see... 80% to 90% of the class consists of either the "flat-heads" or the "always cryers", or a combination of the two. This means Max is automatically in the top 10%. Really his only competition is this girl named Juliette. She's a sweetheart with big brown eyes and a beautiful smile and she's got a cute name. I'm not going to lie, she's tough competition... but, as is the case with all women, she's also getting older by the minute, which in her case means she won't be in the class much longer... so we'll wait her out. Max will be king in about 3 - 4 months.

His main teacher is Miss Jackie. She's an older African-American woman whom I believe came to Dallas shortly after Katrina. She's so nice to Nicole and me and she's so great with Maddox, plus she really knows her stuff. Very well educated on child development. And the best part is that Max really likes her a lot. Just hearing her voice makes him smile, and that makes us so much happier about the situation. Plus she gave Nicole a hug on her first day to drop Max off. How great is that? She's going to be great for Max.

Something I'm starting to notice about myself as I transition into a father... I now judge stories/movies based on what they are telling and how they tell it. Used to, I wouldn't care too much about what was said or what the story meant so long as it entertained me on the broader, less specific about what's going on scale. For instance, our bedtime routine consists of Nicole feeding Max while I read to him a story from a book. Usually the stories are ones that have been passed down from generation to generation. In our case, a lot of these stories are found in condensed form from a book we bought at Sam's. So maybe this is where my problems start. Because some of these stories aren't really teaching the best lessons to children. Let's call this my "What the hell?" segment, because that is the feeling I get after reading some of these stories.

The "What the hell" segment starts with Jack and the Bean stalk. To refresh everyone, here's a summary. Jack and his mother are poor. All they have is a cow that doesn't produce milk. Mom says sell it for food. Jack trades it for "magic" beans. Beans get slapped out of his hand by pissed mom. Beans grow. Jack climbs up, finds castle with giant and lots of goodies. Jack breaks in and steals everything but the kitchen sink. He runs away, chased by giant, chops bean stalk just in time for the giant to fall to earth and die. Jack and mom live happy and rich. Did I miss anything? In case you missed them, here's a closer look at my problems:

1. Jack stops to talk to a strange man about some "magic" beans. They might as well have been mushrooms. Bad move. Now, from my son's point of view, Max thinks that out of every weird random guy that wants to talk to him, at least one of them might have something "magic". Why not just have Jack go to this man's van to get the magic beans?
2. Jack climbs the beanstalk as high as he could go. Obviously not the best idea for any kid ever. Especially since we have really tall, mature trees in our front yard.
3. Last, but not least are all crimes Jack committed. Let's see, Breaking an Entering, Stealing, Fleeing from a crime scene, Homicide and probably the cover up or "tampering".

Yay for us! Sweet dreams son.

Anyway, this week we still have a candy corn outfit to make. I'll try and post pictures as soon as I can. But I don't promise anything. I honestly don't know where the time goes. I'm working at work less than usual, I'm spending less quality time with Nicole than normal and the grass in the front yard stays long longer than usual. We'll figure it out. We have to I guess.

Giggle It

Slowly but surely we are getting back into the grind. Nicole's first day of work was last Monday, and, as you can imagine, it wasn't greeted with a whole lot of enthusiasm. Even from me, and I hadn't spent every hour of every day with Max for the last 12 weeks. So, needless to say, last week was one we had been dreading for awhile. It makes it a little sweeter that his Nana (my mom) is babysitting him this week, and for a few more weeks. Mostly because our day-care parlor decided that a 10 month waiting list was as disposable as the diapers Max poops in. But it's okay. We are all still alive. After a week, Max is still alive. He's still happy, and I think the time with Nana is really helping him. She's been working with him and entertaining him during the day. Teaching him to play the drums and that sleeping in the big bed is much much better than his crib, all this against my knowledge, obviously. But it's good. Everybody should taste what it's like to be spoiled once in their life. Unfortunate for Max that his glory days occurred in week 13, but what can you do. Those were the cards he was dealt.


Something for the record books... Max recorded his first successful spit up attempt at his father. He's 1 for 1. It was a big day for him. Big day for me too. I now have first hand experience on the matter and can only compare being spit up on to being in a safe, but still destructive car wreck. The comparisons are many. First, while said tragedy is happening, time slows way down. Then, after it's over and you reflect on the happenings, you realize a few more things. 1. You realize just how fast it actually did happened. 2. You realize just how out of control one or both of you were. And 3. You realize the many paths that could have been taken to avoid said tragedy. In my case... the first path to avoidance would mean that tossing a baby in the air (gently or not) immediately after he eats is the equivalent to speeding in a snow storm. Seems painfully obvious, but yet, we've all been there. Funny how that works out. Plus, it doesn't help that babies play it so cool. One minute they are fine, the next minute you've been hit. Oh, and let's not forget the biggest comparison, after it all goes down, chances are pretty good that somebody has pee in their pants.


Okay, so let's talk about Halloween costumes a little. I think Nicole is asking for suggested costume ideas. At this point, she's getting desperate for suggestions because I seem to be drawn to the idea of dressing him up as a piece of candy corn. I don't know why, but I've had this idea for a long time. I think even before we had a name for him, I was on to the candy corn thing. Nicole and I have discussed it at great length and both agree that it has a lot of upside. The first being that we've never seen it before. The second being that Nicole and I both like candy corn as a candy, and we both like Max as a son. Seems too obvious right? Sure seems like all upside with no downside. Well, there are a few downsides. The first is that I've never seen a candy corn costume and, as a result, I will have to make the costume myself. And I'm not very good at costume making. We'll just say that my experience is limited. Which leads us to the bigger downside: If this somehow works out in my favor, no costume will ever be out of reach for us, or for Maddox, but really for us. I know this doesn't sound like a downside, and it isn't, for us anyway. For Max?, yeah probably. "Who wants to dress up like a corn-dog??"


Okay, so the biggest happening to me so far is that Max is starting to giggle. It's not a complete 100% giggle yet, probably more closer to 80%, but he's still giggling and it's probably in my top 5 things that I like about having a baby. I'm going to attempt to post video of little Maddox almost giggling so that you can enjoy also. If it doesn't work, I apologize. If it does, then somebody owes me a coke! (Crossing fingers)...

Max-A-Million

What a great son Nicole and I have. But before I get into that, let me be the first to apologize. Over the past few weeks, my work world has been mixing a little too much with my family world. I'm not exactly sure how the chemistry works, but I do know that it will always produce the most perfect crapstorm you've ever seen. I would definitely say I've been tested the past few weeks. Nicole also. Working late in to the night and stressing about work doesn't usually sit well with anybody, especially when you combine that with a bulldog for a son experiencing his 8th, 9th and 10th weeks in the world. But he has been handling it well. Nicole too. I am sorry people aren't up to date... hopefully this will resolve all of that.

Let me first start with Max's 2 month doctor visit. Here's the measurements from September 9th... 12 lb - 12 ounces, 24.5 inches long. Length puts him squarely in the 95th percentile for height. Weight was right in the 75th percentile (he's all muscle), and if there was a measurement for tenacity, well... he'd set the bar on that one.

The best tidbit from the doctor's visit, for me anyway, was that we discovered from the doctor, that my gene's are dominant. He looks a little more like I did when I was a baby, and he's got sensitive skin just like his daddy. So, naturally, after finding out that my gene's dominated Nicole's, I did what any humble husband would do... I rubbed it in. Only it back-fired a little. Here's the conversation as it played out in our car ride home:

• Me: "So, interesting what the doctor said in there, huh?"
• Nicole (unsuspecting of what is to come): "What part?"
• Me (beaming with joy): "MY DENES ARE GOMINANT!!!"
• Me (puzzled and a little stunned. sort of like a deer caught in headlights right after accidentally farting in front of a date): ......
• Nicole (unbelieving of what just happened): "What?"
• Me (now realizing what just happened, but trying to play it off): "Yeah!! Scoreboard!"
• Nicole: "Wow."

It was a good time. Hopefully he didn't get the gene that caused that meltdown. But, as happy as I am that he's my son and I can see myself in him, I'm more happy to see Nicole in him too. It's not like he's completely me. I look at it more like he's me but with upgrades from Nicole's family. Like his thunder thighs are definitely from the Bishop side. The fact that he's practically all muscle is from Nicole's side. He's got her eyes. And, I think he's got some Navy Seal blood running in him. He tried to kill me last week. No lie. He bit me on the neck. Side note: he might need to be muzzled once those teeth come in. We'll play it by ear.

Other than that, his first day of daycare is rapidly approaching. October 1st was the scheduled dooms day, but they are filled to the brim with babies at the moment, so chances of him getting in are running low. But he will definitely find his way to daycare sometime in October. Nicole and I are really dreading it, but are also quite convinced it's for the best. It will be hard for us and probably him, but I really think it will do more good than anything.

Okay, so other Max breakthroughs since last time:

• He has discovered his voice and has learned that it is actually him creating the noise. He coos a lot and smile screams and shrills like a baby whale. It's really funny. I'll try to catch it on video and upload it.
• He has also discovered his hand for the first time. (just this week). He looked at it really puzzled-like, moved his fingers while his hand was in front of his face, then a few seconds later, when he took his eyes off of it, he lost it on the other side of Nicole. He was really searching for it, then saw it and brought it really close to his face again. Then, after a few intense seconds of making sure him and his hand were cool, he let it go back to where it was. Easily one of the best moments to date.

Oh, and one other thing I thought everybody would enjoy. And in list form, since I seem to be in the mood. Here's a few of the creative ways Max rids himself of gas:

• Hiccup-burps
• Cough-farts
• Sneezing poops
• Kicking-crying-farts
• Kicking-crying-burps
• Puzzled farts (when he puts his index finger on his chin, like he's thinking about something, then farts)
• And Hiccup-farts. (Probably the best of all).

Okay, so I think this should get everybody up to speed. I'll upload some more photos so that everyone can bask in my son's magnificence.

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.