Ewe's Not Fat, Ewe's Just Fluffy

In just over a month, the doctor went from telling Ben "I'm worried he's losing too much weight" to "His weight is fine as long as he's 12 months old." Our little porker eats like a Rawandan refugee at an Old Country Buffet. Since that first week when he'd lost an entire pound, his average gain has been a pound a week. He's almost 14 pounds (almost double his birth weight) and he's not even 8 weeks yet. There are many species of fish in the deepest parts of the ocean that are opportunistic feeders, eating whenever food is available, regardless of being hungry or not. Ben eats the same way (as do the people applying to be on the "Biggest Loser" TV show). He'll chug 6 ounces of milk and be willing to eat an hour later. It's like if I ate a 20 piece chicken McNugget and large fry then walked across the street to Friendly's and had a 5 scoop reeses pieces sundae. "Yes I want the whipped cream and extra hot fudge!!!" I did actually do that a few times in High School but I was swimming 7,000 yards a day. Ben's major form of activity is kicking his legs a few times after farting. Anyway, we've curtailed his eating to a normal level and he hasn't seemed to notice. He's happy and healthy. Besides, who doesn't love a fat, rolly-polly baby.

Retraction

To quote my wife, the last post was "a little too cynical". (however, to quote Jerry McGuire, "we live in a cynical world.") After some thought, I have to agree with Caryn. Buying silly outfits that the baby will never wear is part of being a new parent. One night before Ben was born, we took the tags off all his little newborn clothes and put them in the wash. We then sat next to each other on the floor, held up each outfit, made an "ohhh" sound, and folded the tiny pants and little hooded sweatshirts. It didn't matter that he might not wear it. Just picturing our baby-to-be in those outfits was worth every penny. So enjoy shopping for your real life Barbie or Ken doll. Those memories are just as important as any other. Babies-R-Us thanks you.

It's A Scam

There are businesses in life that take advantage of the consumer because they know you need their services. They inflate their prices (i.e. a $2,000 veil which is essentially lace and elastic) and convince you to buy useless upgrades (Does you great aunt Ethel really need a 500 year water tight titanium coffin?). Funeral homes, anything to do with weddings, and hospitals are examples of this. A new addition to this list is baby items. More specifically, newborn clothing. Ben is already wearing 3 month clothing. As an "amoeba-like" newborn, he wore about 12% of the newborn clothing we bought or had received as a gift. You see these tiny jean jackets, cool hoodies, and mini cargo pants for newborns and you're already thinking about how cute the picture will be. What you don't realize is a newborn needs to wear 2 things. A diaper and a sleep sack. The sleep sack keeps him warm but makes it easy to change him. It's basically a potato sack with arms sewn in. All the other stuff is difficult to get on because he has the consistency of the previously mentioned amoeba. You're too worried about snapping his neck to put a shirt on. The pants might rub his umbilical cord so they're out. The hooded sweatshirt is probably a suffocation hazard or something.

That's the other thing. How come everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, has become an object to fear because it has the potential to kill your child. We'll eventually develop levitation technology to float your child 6 inches above his crib surrounded in a Star Wars style force field impenetrable to everything except bottles and soft hugs. The last time I checked, the cat licks her feet after using the litterbox. Just rinse off the pacifier and let it do it's pacifying. I've really gotten off track here...

Parents to be: Don't go crazy with newborn sized outfits. It's a waste. You'll have plenty of time to dress him up later. Just look at Ben in his spiffy 3 month jeans and monkey socks. Did I say monkey socks? Yes, he has them in 6 different colors...plus they're too big for a newborn.

Deer In Headlights

Bennet just learned how babies got made.

Do You Know The Monkey Man?

At some point during freshman year, I got the nickname Monkey Boy (thanks Kirsten, it really helped with the ladies). I eventually embraced the name but since college, it has faded into the "remember when" file. You can imagine I had a small nostalgic tear this morning when I took this picture. Just to prove the cyclical world we live in, we got this monkey chair from Kirsten and Holly, the givers of the name monkey boy. The torch has been passed to a new generation of Brofs. Well, just one Brof. Carry it well, little Ben.

Special Valentines Day Present

Ben is so sentimental. As a gift to mom and dad for valentines day, Ben's umbilical cord FINALLY fell off. Caryn found it in the footie of Bennet's PJ's this morning. Now he has a real belly button which means he can take a real bath. Honestly, sponge baths sound nice but you get cold very quickly; ask anyone who has ever ended up in traction.

Bennet did very well in his first bath. He was so happy, he made a beautiful fountain that arched up and over the far edge of the tub. I'm just so proud of his range.

Second Father-Son Moment

Don't worry, we both get it for the articles.

The Hefty Peanut

Bennet had his 1 month check up today. The little hippo went from 8.4 pounds to 10.12!!! He is 22.5 inches (started at 19.5). His head is over 15 inches around. Basically, all those numbers equate to Ben being in the 75th percentile for one month old babies. He also slept for 5 straight hours last night. It's the first time since he was born that Caryn and I got 5 straight hours of sleep. It was sooooo sweet. On a sad note, he got his hepatitis shot today. The nurse stuck the needle in his thigh and he went dead silent; eyes wide open. It took about 10 seconds for his face to contort, then he let out a 30 second scream, then fell silent for 30 seconds without breathing, mouth wide open. It was the most upset I have ever seen Bennet. I guess babies move in slow motion when they're REALLY pissed. It's really sad but also kind of funny.

Go Team

The first of many father son moments, Ben and I watched our first superbowl together. He took the wuss bet and just hoped everyone had a good time. The sleeping pic was taken midway through the third quarter. The 2nd and 3rd quarter were extremely boring so I didn't hold it against him or Caryn. I actually drank 2 beers plus what Ben didn't finish of his. I hate when people leave floaters. If you open it, drink it. Man up.

247-52-4861

Bennet is officially "on the grid." We received his Social Security Card last week which means he is eligible to have his identity stolen. Today, son, you are truely an American. Another benefit of being part of the "matrix" is that we can track his social security income that, because of baby boomers, will no longer exist by the time he retires. If the youth pay for the elderly now, who will pay for the youth!!!!!

(don't worry, that's not his real SSN, I changed the last digit)

Just Some Pics

Confucius says, "he who goes to bed with itchy butt wakes up with smelly finger."
just ate lunch, mmmmm, boobies
This one just makes me smile

It's 3AM, Do You Know Where Your Children Are?

Mine just ate, breastmilk from a bottle. This allows Caryn to sleep and me to enjoy the bonding of feeding...spit up, poopy diapers mid-feeding. Has any adult ever been the middle of chewing a huge mouthful of steak and thought, "I need to poop?" Ben does it almost every time. In one end, out the other...simultaneously. Anyway, strange things happen at 3AM when you're not drunk. The TV seems the brightest it's ever been. You notice loud creeks in the floor that were never there before. You can pee in your front lawn without repercussions. You gotta take the good with the bad. I'm going back to bed. Here's hoping Ben's tummy is full enough to give me 3 straight hours of uninterrupted, unadulterated sleep...

Word Gets Around

Between family and friends, we've had a lot of visitors over the last 3 weeks. The gifts (for Ben), food (for me), and general support (lots for Caryn) have been amazing and Caryn and I are truly thankful. In addition, I am still surprised to hear about people reading the blog. I'm not surprised when friends say they check up on it. However, hearing someone say their co-workers check it every now and then or that the parents of one of my friends are "religiously addicted" makes my ego swell to new record proportions (props to the Harris family, never met you but Stacey said this would make you laugh). This blog started as a way to show my brother and sister in California the sonogram pics. I think it will be pretty cool to show this to Ben one day. He might get pissed for the pic of his "lead singer" in utero but let's face it, you only have one senior prom.

Local Color

We took Ben out for the first time today. As a true Pennsylvanian, we figured the best way to acclimate him to the local customs was to eat at the Hometown Diner down the street. Hear colorful Pennsylvania Dutch phrases like "Dont'cha know" and "goin fishin down there to the crick there"(sounds like a mix of German and English). Eat new foods like "scrapple". It's not quite a sausage patty, not quite hash browns, but it comes floating in its own grease puddle and includes a coupon for a cholesterol screening. Ben, can you say cardiac infarction?

It was really nice to get out of the house and eat bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Ben slept the entire time. I'm hoping that is a habit, not an exception. Still waiting for that umbilical cord to fall off...which strangely looks very similar to scrapple...

A Lot Can Happen In Two Weeks

When I look at what has happened over the last 2 weeks, I am at a loss for words. For comparison, it once took me 2 weeks to write a computer program that would calculate the day of the week for whatever date you wanted to know and display it in a nice calendar. In sales, I've done a 2 week "blitz" where I get in front of as many doctors as possible and deliver a precise message (sounds dumb, I know, but I get a free car). Hell, I once spent 2 straight weeks drunk during my senior year just for something to do...maybe it was 2 days...or months...was that senior year?...did I even go to college?...my brain hurts...who is Pythagoras?
Getting back to my point, all those accomplishments, regardless of how cool, were quite small compared to what I've seen and learned in just 14 days. Here's a few things
1. Skin is INCREDIBLY elastic.
2. The "5 S's" of a newborn. Sleep, shit, scream, suck, stare. Listed from most often to least, those are the only 5 things a newborn does, literally.
3. Baby farts are WAY funnier than grown-up farts...and more socially acceptable.
4. We all know hot water burn baby. However, warm water still makes them cry.
5. A woman can give birth to a baby, go through the most intense pain of her life, then be scared of a spider the next day.
6. Poop from breast milk may look gross but it doesn't really smell.
7. Babies bounce...
8. Just kidding...they don't bounce at all.
9. Still kidding, Ben has yet to meet the same fate as Edgar the stuffed rabbit (see "just practicing" blog entry)
10. Visit your parents, give them a hug, and thank them for everything.

Young Pythagoras

The sum of the squares of the two sides of a right triangle are equal to the square of the opposite side!

The Stink Eye

We've been calling Ben "One-eye stink eye" since day one. People ask where nicknames come from. Now we know.

For The Future Dads

Ok, Caryn is asleep and Ben is in a serious food coma. I wanted to give a little info to the clueless men out there who may father a child someday. First off, there is nothing disgusting about child birth. It is truly the most amazing event I have ever witnessed. Most of us have seen "The Miracle of Life" video. I agree, it's pretty gross. However, it is a completely different experience when it's your wife and your baby. There are details I will leave out of this very public blog however. Child birth is an incredibly intimate process to be shared by a mother, father, and baby...and the OBGYN, 2 nurses, a 7 member NIC-U team, 3 residents, an anaesthesiologist, a few techs, and a partridge in a pear tree. That's it. Having said that, my advice is to take take in as much as possible during the delivery.

Remember, although they haven't met face to face, your baby momma has known this baby for the last 9 months. There's a strong intimate bond between the two of them that you don't really feel yet. Even with the delivery, future mom goes through all the work, pain, and struggle to bring him into the world. The bond for me started as soon as I could see the top of the head coming out of her "hey now." To watch this kid come out is to experience the last 9 months in fast forward. You don't feel the pain directly but you see it on her face, by the way she squeezes your hand, by the look of "holy shit" on your newborn child's face. Men are visual people. We need to see something to understand the feeling behind it. Sleep at the hospital in that uncomfortable chair, wake up at night to watch your baby feed, do as much as possible. Unfortunately, one of the few jobs you can do is change dirty diapers. (the first diaper Caryn changed was on the day I had to go back to work). The good news is that the poo doesn't really smell...yet. In a strange way, you get excited that your son has just blasted out one of the loudest farts you've ever heard; and I lived in a Frat house for 2 years!

The last thing I want to mention is the sleep deprivation. Hands down, the single piece of advice I was given before Bennet arrived was "get your sleep now." We all know what it feels like to be sleep deprived. Whether it was all nighters in college, 24 hour parties, or a stressful job, you all know what I'm talking about. However, think of how you feel after only 2 hours of sleep. Then do it again the next night. Then, for 8 days straight, never sleep for longer than 2.5 hours at any given time. You lose track of what day it is, forget to eat, start talking to shower curtains. To this day, Caryn still wakes up every 2-3 hours to feed Ben...EVERY NIGHT. Women are amazing creatures. I have a new found respect for Caryn and all women in general after this. Remember, if men had to deliver babies and breast feed, there would be no more babies.

I Screwed Up

Caryn and I had been pretty much set on the name Bennet for a while. However, we NEVER talked about the spelling. When I sent out the first email announcing his arrival, I spelled it Bennett. When it came time to fill out the official paperwork, we both thought Bennet looked better, maybe a little more symmetrical or Feng Shui. Anyway, I wanted to make clear that according to the US Government Social Security Offices, my son's name is Bennet James. I was a little too anxious to tell everyone he was here and it's caused a lot of confusion. Besides, judging by his reaction, I think Bennet prefers "Poop Ferguson" or "One-eye Stink Eye" anyway. Here's a pic.

The Sponge Bath

Bennet has his hand up here as if he's about to say "Dad, stop taking pictures of me naked, enough already." Because Ben still has the umbilical cord and it can't get wet, we can only give him a sponge bath. Usually, the sponge bath is reserved for quadriplegics and dare devils who came up just short of that last school bus. Newborns have this benefit but seem to hate it. These 2 pics are just before and just after the bath. I didn't include a pic of the actual sponge bath because the look on Ben's face says "Call Family Services, save me!"

Buddha Baby

I am on a spiritual plane only attainable by Buddhist Monks... ohmmm ohmmm ohmmm

Natural Mom

Look how fast Caryn moves around little Ben. She's amazing! Ben is feeding better and better. He gets into the cutest food coma afterwards. His eyes kind of cross and although they're open, they're completely glassed over. He coos a little bit as if to say, "mmmmmm."

Introducing Bennet James Bronfenbrenner

Caryn and I would like to introduce you all to Bennet James. He was born at 3:12PM on January 9th. He weighed 7 pounds 6 ounces and was 19.5 inches long. He's perfect, Caryn and Ben are doing very well, and we're all a little tired. More details later, just wanted to post a few pics to appease the masses. Sleep Ben, it's been a long 72 hours.

We're Not Getting Any Younger

Since getting back to work after New Years, Caryn has been frantically trying to get midterms made and papers in order so she can hand off the duties to her long term substitute teacher. Although trying to wrap everything up at the last minute is keeping Caryn's mind off of delivery, it's also getting us extremely anxious. Yes, procrastination seems to be genetic. The doctors and nurses keep telling us any day now but Fee is determined to stay in there until the last minute. Stubborn little bugger.

The Countdown Begins

We went to the doctor on Thursday for Caryn's weekly check-up. The doctor listened and poked and announced, "congratulations, you are full term." I already knew that but hearing the doctor tell us made me a little uneasy. Basically, labor can start at any time; while Caryn is sleeping, while enjoying a delicious Arby's sandwich, during 4th period math in front of 15 tenth graders. Who knows? It's the anticipation that's killing me. Every time Caryn calls me, my heart skips a beat. Women at this stage get "braxton hicks contractions" which are like warm up contractions for the real thing. Her stomach gets rock hard for about a minute. The great thing is that there doesn't seem to be any pain involved...yet. People have started guessing what day Fee will ride the slip and slide into our life. There's no pool of money but you'd always have the claim that you "knew" when he'd arrive. Just a reminder, the actual due date is January 12th. Happy New Year!

Lub Dub

I know what you're thinking. "Three posts in one day? Space it out!" Listen, it's freezing rain and snowing outside plus there's a lot of exciting stuff going on. I've had a really nice stethoscope for a few years without really knowing why. Now I know. We can hear Fee! It's faint, but Caryn and I both heard Fee's rapid heartbeat this morning without the use of the OB's fancy machine. (side note: the first time the doctor used one of his heartbeat machines on Caryn, he looked up and said "I think we lost this one." The moron meant that the batteries were dead but Caryn immediately translated it into "we lost the baby." Before her eyes got too watery, he realized his error and explained himself but, come on, what type of a**hole thing is that to say.) I digress. Anyway, hearing Fee's heartbeat in our own house without any doctors around was really cool.
With less than a month left, I am realizing more and more that this baby is coming. People keep asking me if I'm ready. How the hell do I know? I'm excited and nervous. I can't wait to meet the little guy and have him wrap his tiny fingers around my hand. I can't wait to just look at him while he's sleeping. There's so much I'm looking forward to. Am I ready? Of course not. You can't always be ready in life. Sometimes, you just have to dive him head first. In Fee's case, he's diving "out" head first...hopefully. There is a time and place for a cannonball. This would not be one of those times son.

Sassafrass

Check out sassy Caryn! (she is being escorted by Reese, the Duchess of Sass) Caryn is 36.5 weeks pregnant in this picture. Forget weeks, she looks good for 36.5 DAYS pregnant! If Sassland were a country, she'd be the president. Her primary export is Sass. When Caryn walks past, you become sassified. Caryn's tears have enough Sass to make Beyonce say, "that's a lot of sass." If Reese had this much sass, she would explode. Keep it sassy.

What's Up Martha Stewart

Check out the nursery! Admit it, you wish you could throw on a diaper, climb into the crib, and drift off into a bubble filled slumber. The wall looks so nice you hardly even notice the chair rail!

Except for one missing element, my vision for the nursery is complete. That element? A baby.

Fruit Of Labor

Today is December 12th and Fee is due on January 12th. Just like that, we are one month away from diaper bags and sleep deprivation. At this stage, Fee is a little larger than a cantaloupe and just as juicy. Unfortunately in a month, his "juice" transforms into stinky poo. Come to think of it, the same thing happens to a cantaloupe after a month. I guess the biggest difference is that Fee will never get served during brunch.
This also means I only have a month left to call him Fee. He will no longer be a Fetus but a living breathing poo-machine...and that machine needs a name. WE think we have it narrowed down to 2 front-runners and 4 more maybes. I think Caryn has actually decided on the name but hasn't told me. So, for now, WE'RE not sure. The illusion that I have a choice is what keeps me happy. Reality can really get you frustrated...much like a rotten cantaloupe.

Just Practicing

I am a multitasking machine! Here I am enjoying a beer, watching football, giving the cat attention, and taking care of the baby. For now, the baby is Edgar the stuffed rabbit. I put the stroller together while carrying baby Edgar as well. It was easy. Feeling confident I'd mastered fatherhood, I decided my experiment was complete. Plus, after assembling the stroller, I stood up and watched Edgar fall out of the Baby Bjorn and onto the sharp open pair of scissors on the floor. Hot water burn baby! Hot water burn baby!