Ian flees the country...

Ian's had a pretty big month, so I thought I should perhaps post an update on some of his exploits of late.  The passing of my grandmother-in-law forced our hand in seeing exactly what type of flyer Ian would be.  I am proud to say that he did awesome.  We had stops both ways from Denver to Puerto Rico and back... Four four-hour flights... and barely a peep the whole time.  Not even the typical "my ears are popping and there's no way to console me" fit.  He pretty much slept on my wife's lap the entire time.  Minor side note: we brought him as a "lap infant".  How is it safe for Ian to be in my lap on an A-330, but not in my car?  Is it just the fact that his car seat isn't rated against a flaming ball of death dropping from 27,000 feet?  Meaning he might as well just roll into the cockpit door as we smash nose first into the ground?  Not that I think he should sit on my lap in a car, but I'm not really understanding the logic; but I digress.  A terrible reason to make the trip to P.R., but a good excuse to stay so Ian could meet some of his family on my wife's side, including his Abuelo, who seemed super excited to say the least.  Ian was in a constant state of introduction for almost a whole week and he did not falter.  He took it in stride with a little smile on his face as he was passed from unknown person to unknown person.  He had his first trip to the playa in Luquillo, which is a more beautiful beach than many Americans will ever see in their entire life.  He listened to Salsa music, watched cartoons in Spanish, and heard the song of the Coqui as he slept.  It's debatable as to whether any of this had any impact on such a developing mind, but I'd like to think so.  The trip was fruitful for all of us, and I look forward to telling Ian about his first trip to the island of his ancestors...once he's old enough to know what I'm talking about.

... Let's get some shots!..

Today was Ian's 4-month wellness appointment, and I was a little nervous.  I knew he was scheduled for shots, and the wife has been harping on and on about how traumatic it was the last time he had shots, which I wasn't present for.  Since I didn't make it the last time, I made every effort to make it there this time.  I took him to the sitter in the morning, picked him up in the afternoon, drove him to the doctor's office where we met up with his mother, and I even had to find someone to cover my shift at work since I was, of course, scheduled this afternoon.  I think I mainly needed to be there to catch my wife's head before it hit the floor after she fainted rather than for Ian's benefit.  I am aware that he has no idea where he's going or for what purpose, but I think even if he did, I'd still be more worried about my wife's wellbeing. Apparently I was to expect a happy little baby to turn into some kind of "Exorcist" outtake the instant the needle broke the skin.  Well, I guess Ian just needed his daddy there, since he cried for all of about 8 seconds, which was amazingly about the same amount of time it took the nurse to poke him in the thighs  4 times. After that, he was just fine, even smiling again within 5 minutes.  He's a tough little buho, and his daddy is proud. 

... did you miss me?

Well, hello again... I know it's been a while since we last chatted, but I really thought that I was of little interest, and between that and all the hustle and bustle of raising your first kid, I have admittedly slacked quite a bit from my duties... but no more! After several conversations with the wife, she has convinced me that others do read this stuff, and some were even slightly entertained, so I shall do my best to keep this going... or get it going again, or whatever... That brings us to the buho, which is what I call Ian. It means "owl" in Spanish, and I started calling him that when he would stare up at me with his almost-freakishly-big eyes. A lot has transpired since I last posted, so I'll try to sift out the highlights. Ian is getting bigger by the second, and he's super alert. He responds to almost anything... loud noises, touch, visual cues, everything. I'm pretty sure he recognizes mommy's and daddy's voices, too. The wife is back to work, so we've located someone worthy of hanging with Ian during the day. She's very close to where we live, and when we interviewed her, we just knew she was the one. Mommy takes Ian in the mornings, and daddy picks him up in the afternoons. I think I got the best end of that deal, because even though I don't think he notices too much now, soon he'll be happy to see daddy every day, and a little sad to leave mommy every day. Hmm, what else?.. We've started putting him in his co-sleeper on the other side of the room, so he gets used to sleeping alone, and I'm sure some day soon, he'll be christening his unused crib in his unused room. Other than that, his "likes" include a nice warm bath, a vibrating frog, and blasting his parents with various bodily fluids. His "dislikes" include being put down, milk at an inappropriate temperature, and riding in the car...Or even sitting in his car seat for that matter. I swear he's the only infant on the planet that doesn't just automatically fall asleep in the car. I've seen children's Motrin, children's Tylenol, but I get the strangest looks at the Walgreen's when I ask for children's Nyquil or children's Ambien... And on that bombshell, it's time to end. (Top gear reference) I'm sure I'm leaving out a lot, but with any luck I'll keep everyone up to date a little better than I have been.

Don't call it a comeback...

I know, I know... You've been waiting with bated breath for an update about Ian's emergence... I guess I should apologize for the stretch you've all had to wait for news. That being said, this post will probably be pretty long, so bear with me. On our last episode, the wife was hooked up to the deal and we were waiting for go time. Well, after waiting pretty much all day with not much change, we were getting a little apprehensive. Our midwife was in and out all day checking up on us, but at around 9pm, she walked in with scrubs on and I thought, "Hmm, that's kinda weird..." Little did we know there was an intricate plot afoot to free Ian. I will say it was pretty impressive the way the midwife handled my wife, since the wife had been making it quite clear for months that the old cesarean gimmick was not in her future. Oh, cruel irony! From my point of view, however, that c-section thing is the way to do it. I mean, they came in a little after 9 to break the news and Ian was born at 10:09pm. With the "clean-up", it was like an hour and a half from start to finish. I kept hearing all these horror stories about 36-hour labors and stuff, so 90 minutes sounds pretty good to me. Anyway, Ian apparently had the umbilical cord above his head and around his arm, so he had to come out the hard way no matter what. Err, the easy way, or
whatever. So, they dug him out of his comfy little bubble and tossed him out into the cold world. He came out pretty purple, and there was admittedly a moment in which the thought crossed my mind that the wife had a little explaining to do about an encounter with someone of the more-pigmented-skin variety, but after a little oxygen he was as pink as daddy. I brought him over to his mommy so she could see him and then it was off to the nursery for the all important weigh-in. Twenty-one inches long, nine pounds, two ounces... It seemed the cord wasn't the only thing clogging up the escape hatch. After a couple minutes and a couple diapers filled with the most disgusting, tar-looking (color and consistency) shit you ever saw, the wife was sewn up and we could be reunited in the recovery room. I'm sure I have left out a bunch of pertinent stuff, but I just wanted to get back on the blog horse before I just gave it up, so I'm sure there'll be plenty of "oh, yeah, and then this happened..." strewn out through future posts. Plus, I've been trying to post this one for like a week, so I just have to get it up so we can get up to date, since at the
time of this transmission, Ian is already 4 weeks old. More to come, hopefully not once a month...

Updated cell post...

I can appreciate that my last post was a little lame, especially with the wealth of information I have to share now, so now that I've got the full-size qwerty at my disposal, I figured it was a good opportunity for a more detailed narration of the day's events... We'll start with yesterday: We had an appointment for a no-stress test and an ultrasound since Ian apparently missed his cue last week. The no-stress test was pretty much just that... we sat in a dim room watching Looney-Tunes cartoons for 25 minutes while my wife was hooked up to some measuring devices, I assume to see if Ian prefers Bugs or Daffy. The ultrasound was equally uneventful, as it was only to check the juice Ian has been brewing in to determine if he's still got enough to bathe in or whatever. After we were declared suitable, we then sat down with our midwife to determine a course of action. Much to my wife's surprise and delight, the midwife agreed that induction wasn't such a bad idea. Since we were making an induction plan and not going into labor at the time, we decided it might be best to get started in the morning as opposed to straight away so we could go home and get our stuff together, have a good dinner, and it was my sister's birthday, too. Unfortunately, getting started in the morning turned out to be a tad literal for my taste, since it meant we had to be at the hospital at 7:30 am, a little earlier than I would've chosen, but what can you do? Anyway, so today, we made it to the hospital on time, of course, since I'm pretty much incapable of being late, and got checked into our room with no hassles. It's almost 12:30 now, so we've been here for like 5 hours and really there hasn't been much change as of yet. The wife's hooked up and getting her Pitocin drip, and having regular contractions, but no real pain or anything yet. We were well aware that it would take a while since we were trying to coax Ian out before he was so inclined to emerge on his own, but the waiting is semi-painful. I guess to conclude this update, the hospital and all the nurses are super nice, and we're ready for something to happen. Let's do this...

There's something happening here...

Ian watch... day 9... the mood is tense!  We have officially checked into the delivery room at this point and my wife is filling out like a hundred papers in anticipation of the arrival of little Ian. After our appointment yesterday, which actually was the last scheduled appointment, a plan was devised to come in this morning, at 7:30 no less, and begin an IV of pitocin.  It would seem that there will be a baby here today or perhaps tomorrow.  Sorry, planet earth, but we will be contributing to your overpopulation, but it will be worth it, so you can suck it! I am writing this from my phone, and it's kinda a pain in the ass, so I'm going to cut this one a little short. Plus I'm nervous and I have to tend to the wife, but I'll be sure to update again soon. Wish us luck!

Matthew in the middle...

...And so begins week... I don't know... 40 plus! Overdue, biscuits are burning, late fees at the library, etc... Let's get this show on the road already! We have what should be our last scheduled baby appointment tomorrow, so no real definitive changes since my last post. The wife does seem less and less mobile as we get further and further past what was the due date, but I think she's pretty happy to have been relatively unhindered for most of her pregnancy in regards to getting around. I mean, I know of a few cases where the mother went on bed rest for a large percentage of their pregnancy, and I just think my wife is grateful that her case wasn't like that. She has also been approved to work half days until the inevitable happens, so that's a bonus as well. I guess the only major development recently pertains to the, what seems like, constant badgering of onlookers as to what Ian's middle name will be. We had discussed it once or twice before, and we were both content without a middle name, but with everyone we come into contact with coercing us of the necessity, we have decided that it may be better for Ian to have one. I suppose it will only aid him in the future to have a middle initial, if only for identification purposes when his birth certificate is called into question during his race for the presidency. Anyway, I'm sure the pins and needles are digging into your ass by now, so our son's official name will be... cue drum roll... Ian Matthew! Yes, he will continue the illustrious namesake of his father, and thereby giving his parents a few more syllables to shout when he undoubtedly performs some of the same ill-advised feats as the moronic name donor, from whose man-gravy he hath been spawned. I think it will be especially useful in his understanding of the degree of the offense he has committed, since there is an obvious difference between a simple "IAN!" and an "IAN MATTHEW!!". After all, I learned the difference from my father pretty quick, and I'm admittedly an idiot. It should be much simpler for Ian, even with only half of my wife's brain. I can see I'm beginning to ramble, so until next time, when hopefully there may be a physical creature to discuss, rather than just a basketball under my wife's shirt.