E-MAIL ANDY OR DENISE

At last, some new Jeffrey photos ...

(mit Entschuldigungen zu meiner Familie in Österreich)

 

 

 

Monday, September 28, 2003

Jeffrey, as always, is oblivious, but for the rest of us it's a bit of a sad day here. After six long months at home, playing a big part in introducing our young guy to the world, this afternoon I'm heading back to work again. People have been asking me whether I'm excited by this prospect, many assuming I'm chomping at the bit to escape my parental duties and get back to the working world, but they couldn't be further from the truth. Of course, it will be nice to hang around adults again, and after a long stretch of voluntary poverty, it will be good to start earning a regular paycheque. But still, I can't help feeling I'm turning the corner on something that I'll never be able to recapture.

Denise, too, is facing some big changes. After six months of relying on full-time support staff, she's suddenly faced with the reality that's she's the Numero Uno caregiver in the house, and many days she'll face that daunting task all alone from dawn to dusk. It's no different from what millions of other mothers have faced, and I'm sure she's up for the task, but still, this big life change isn't coming without a little bit of trepidation.

When I look back on our summer together, I think the most vivid memory will be the two of us walking together. As most parents quickly discover, strolling is a key survival strategy for any desperate parent who's climbing the walls and running out of ideas for entertaining baby. But for me, and for Jeffrey too, I think, our long walks together became a treasured bonding ritual. Without a trip downtown for a cup of coffee and a sit in the park, the day never seemed quite complete. Both of us were especially fond of walking with the aid of Jeffrey's Snugli, a wonderful harness contraption that strapped little Jeffrey up at chest level, giving him a wonderful view of the great big world, and giving me the freedom to walk almost anywhere without worrying about stairs, esalators, curbs or any of the dozens of other roadblocks that hinder walking in traditional strollers. With Jeffrey strapped aboard and a bottle of milk sitting on ice in my fanny pack, it wasn't at all unusual for the two of us to hit the road for three hours or more, while mom stayed at home and recharged her batteries.

One unfortunate downside of the exercise, however, was the strain it began putting on my back. It didn't feel all that bad at first, but who've thunk that while we were merrily traipsing around the city, our tubby little boy would suck back enough milk to take him to triple his starting weight. By the time I finally gave the Snugli up forever, a few weeks back, I was experiencing sudden, shooting pains in my lower back that left me doubled over on the floor. It felt like somebody had stuck a cattle prod in my spine.

I had hoped to switch to our family stroller, but after pushing that ungainly old thing around for a couple of afternoons, I realized it wasn't the solution. In fact, almost every stroller I tried out suffered similar woes -- they were all designed for somebody five feet tall, and felt awkward and ungainly when pushed by my 6-foot-3 frame. Hunched over the handlebars, I found my back was as sore as ever, not to mention my shins, which kept bashing into the undersid eof the carriage. Finally, after a long search, I settled on a great, but way too expensive solution -- a swanky new sports stroller that converts into a bike trailer. It's a joy to push around, with nice tall handlebars, big bicycle wheels and shock absorbers that make for a wonderful, smooth ride. Designed for all kinds of weather, it seals up tight to keep out the rain, and should keep Jeffrey protected even during the fiercest of winter days.

So things change for us, but in the end the two of use keep rolling along. And I imagine that's what will continue happening, with a few adjustments for my work schedule. After six months together, I have a confidence and a breadth of experience dealing with Jeffrey that I think few other dads could hope to match, and I'm hoping to carry that momentum forward despite the many distractions that loom.

	Jeffrey's swanky new sports stroller	He seems to love grabbing his feet nowadays.	A beautiful father-son portrait, don't you think?
Snack time	Mom and Jeffery share a moment at the Experimental Farm.	Jeffrey's Snugli, a contraption that gave both of us hundreds of happy hours together this summer.	dma hIt wasn't at all unusual for the two of us to take two- or three-hour strolls togetherthis way.

 

 

Friday, September 12, 2003

As I type this, an off-key rendition of the Rubber Ducky song from Sesame Street is wafting out of the bathroom.

Rubber Ducky, you're the one,
You make bathtime lots of fun,
Rubber Ducky, I'm awfully fond of you ...

Jeffrey, meanwhile, is kicking and flailing around in his big new inflatable ducky bathtub, seeming suspiciously intent on flipping over and drowning himself. It's been a rough couple of days for all of us, I suppose.

The li'l guy finally seems on the mend after a few miserable days suffering from his first nasty cold. We knew it was inevitable, but the ddid little to soften the blow. He woke up crying a few nights ago, soaked in sweat and hot to the touch, and since then the nights have been sheer hell. At least once a night he'll wake up screaming and utterly inconsolable. After emptying my bag of tricks in an effort to calm him, there was little to do but put him back to bed and watch helplessly as he cried himself back to sleep.

At least he's eating again. When all this started (early Monday morning, I think) all he could force down was a little more than three or four ounces the entire day. Finally, on the doctor's recommendation, we fed him a big bottle of water, and that seemed to provide a little relief. He was so listless he could barely lift his little head, and after napping all day he collapsed into bed for good just after suppertime.

As I said, he seem to be doing much better now, but he's still going to bed very early -- around 8 p.m., which is about two hours earlier than his normal pattern, waking up noisily several times a night and struggling to get back to sleep. We'll see if the pattern changes, but the one positive thing that's come out of this is a few precious hours of non-parent time in the evening, something we haven't been accustomed to before now.

Striking a thoughtful pose as Grandma holds him during his recent stay in Sault Ste. Marie.	Jeffrey and cousin David share a tender moment.	Cousin Rachel lugs Jeffrey around at the family's cottage on St.Jospeph Island, near the Sault.	Jeffrey splashes around in his new inflatable ducky tub.

Thursday, August 28, 2003

Would you like to swing on a star?

I've just returned from our first big road trip as a family, a long circuit across southern Ontario to visit family in Port Franks, a little resort community on the eastern shore of Lake Huron, then up the Bruce Peninsula to the port of Tobermory. From there we caught a ferry up to Manitoulin Island and drove the rest of the way to Sault Ste. Marie. Jeffrey did pretty well through the long hours on the road, but his patience for the carseat is wearing a little thin. By the end of the trip, even with Denise sitting in the back seat, he grew increasingly grumpy and agitated. Like most babies out for a car ride, Jeffrey spent most if his time sleeping, which unfortunately meant he was up at 4:30 the next morning, right eyed and ready to start his day. Dad, needless to say, was dragging his ass a little.

As I said, I'm home now, but Jeffrey and Denise have stayed behind for an extra week of quality time with Grandma Duguay. Denise's dad, Guy Duguay, is back in Ottawa with me as well. He's out in the yard now, putting the finishing touches on a beautiful deck that encompasses the entire yard. Next summer, I'm sure we'll be spending endless hours out there frolicking in the Mr. Turtle pool or wreaking havoc on the tricycle.

In the meantime, though, it's just me and Guy, doing the bachelor thing for the first time in what seems like an eternity. Oooooooooh the sleep is

wonderful! I'm suddenly free from having to nap with one ear open, free from a bleary-eyed life where the difference between being lucid or comatose hinges on the petulant whims of a five-month-old child. Still, I miss the little guy. In what's soon to become a familiar ritual, I spent a few minutes last night cooing and singing incoherently into the telephone, trying to pry a giggle or a little babble of recognition out of him. Denise says he seems fascinated, althougha little confused, by the sound of my disembodied voice on the phone.

Meanwhile, it's been a busy few weeks of developmental milestones for Jeffrey, who's now sitting up on his own for short periods, bending over and chewing his toes, and reaching out and pushing buttons on his various battery-operated toys. He even rolled over once, althoug he seems reluctant to make an encore performance. We've also abandoned the rapidly shrinking baby tub and started him in the grownup bathtub, with the help of a little plastic tub harness that helps him stay seated upright.Perhaps the biggest development of them all, though, was his first, tentative introduction to solid food. Sadly, I wasn't there to witness the event yesterday, but I'm told he knew exactly what to do, opening his mouth wide to let in the choo-choo. He seemed a little baffled by what ended up in his mouth, though, and screwed up his face with a little grimace of surprise. Still, he kept eating like a trooper, and managed to get down a few ounces before it started spewing into his little lap. I hope to have a few cute photos of our food-stained little guy in time for my next installment.

Thursday, August 7, 2003

What a difference a few months make. Here's Jeffrey in the tub as a skinny, terrified little newborn, left, and as a plump, happy little four-month-old in the same tub. He weighed in at 17 lbs. this week.

Our poor little boy is slowly recovering from his first bout with the common cold. I suppose it could have been worse, but we were a little worried there when he started waking up in the middle of the night almost gagging on his own phlegm, letting out enormous, wet coughs and tears of frustration. He's still coughing a little and a little groggy at times, but with a little help from a humidifier he's sleeping through the night again and seems much happier.

As things get back to normal, our latest obsession is trying to coax Jeffrey into his next big developmental step -- rolling over on his own. Whenever we can we try to lie him on a blanket, or on the bed and push him back and forth, trying to get the idea across. "That's it. Just lift your little leg liiittle higher aaaaand (grabbing his ankle and tugging him into an clumsy faceplant on the mattress) ooover you go!" He's getting better all the time at rolling onto his side, but he's not quite ready to make the next step.

Denise's other obsession lately has been packing for our first big out-of-town trip, a marathon driving odyssey that will take us southwest down to London and then north to Sault Ste. Marie. Lugging a baby along makes everything exponentially more complicated, especially on a long trip like this, and we're not really sure what to expect during those long hours on the road. Considering his past behavious in cars, he'll probably sleep most of the way, which likely means some long, sleepless nights for us as we keep our well-rested little nightowl company once we get where we're going.

Meanwhile, Denise is also in the midst of the slow, quite painful (for her) process of cutting off little Jeffrey's breastmilk supply and switching him over to formula. It's not without some regrets that we're taking this step, but now that out little guy is four months old (and thriving at a hefty 17 lbs.), it seems like the liabilities are starting to outweigh the benefits. Denise hasn't actually breastfed, per se, for more than three months now, so we've been getting by exclusively by pumping his breastmilk mechanically, a very labour intensive process that's sucked up almost all of Denise's time and energy. It's ironic that she's spent so much of her resources trying to feed her baby that she has little left to actually spend any time with him. Now, with our trip approaching, we decided that rather than face a logistical nightmare trying to pump on the road, we'd be better off putting him on the bottle. What about plain old, fashioned breastfeeding? Well, for the ske of experimentation, Denise tried it last week for the first time in months, and as we feared, litle Jeffrey nearly chewed her nipple off. Too much time drinking out of a bottle has given him such bad habits that now she'd might as well latch her breasts onto a hungry hyena.Frankly, Jeffrey was never a good breastfeeder to start with.

Rapidly outgrowing his tub.	Drying off after his bath	Horsing around with daddy	Sharing a moment

Monday, July 28, 2003

I'm told that some babies just skip the whole crawling thing and jump straight to walking, and it sure looks like Jeffrey is a likely candidate to do the same. For weeks now, every time we pick him up, the first thing he does is flail his little feet around looking for something to stand on. He still needs a lot of work on his balance, but his legs are strong enough now to easily support his weight for a few minutes at a time. He likes nothing better than to stand in Mommy or Daddy's lap, walking tall and looking like he just can't wait to run and jump and give his parents a nervous breakdown.

He has little or no interest, however, in a lot of the activities that would normally be precursors to crawling. He has little patience for lying down on the floor, even when toys and stuffed animals are dangled tantalizingly above him he quickly starts crying and demands to be picked up. He shows little interest in rolling over, although he does seem able to roll from his back into a sideways position when the mood strikes him.

With all the standing up he's been doing, we figured he was ready for his exersaucer, a very cool little platform that holds him up suspended in a standing position, surrounded by all manner of interesting toys and gadgets. At his age he still doesn't last long, but in the few minutes before he exhausts himself he seems to have a gas, twirling knobs and pushing buttons with delighted little yelps. I'd post a video if I had one, but sadly my no-good video camera is in the shop for repairs.

Standing to show off his new outfit			Jeffrey checks out his exersaucer
	Sunday at Britannia Beach

Saturday, July 19, 2003

It's been a hectic few weeks of visitors and other happenings, but despite the rush there's a sense that things are getting easier all the time. Despite a few grumblings from the crib every night, Jeffrey is still sleeping through the night, and letting mom and dad get back to a more normal sleep cycle. For a few weeks there we thought we might be heading into the colic zone, with Jeffrey wailing like a banshee, like clockwork, for an hour or so at suppertime, but that seems to have faded. He seems very happy now, day and night, and only seems to cry when he's moments away from the bottle hitting his mouth and he loses patience.

After a few months of staring at nothing but our faces, and perhaps the television set, Jeffrey is starting to take a real interest in the world around him. He's just recently discovered what his hands are for, and he's starting to clumsily grab for things and try to shove them in his mouth. He'll rattle and bang toys that are dangled in front of him, and even try to latch onto things and pull himself up into a sitting position. His little back and neck are getting stronger all the time, and he's able, with a little help, to sit up for as long as 30 seconds at a time before gravity gets the better of him.

Jeffrey is sprouting a little more hair every day, and despite his growing mountain of baby pudge seems to be developing into a very handsome lad. I know, I know -- all cooing parents thinks their baby is the most beautiful one ever, but in this case we've actually verified it with independent experts. In a word, he's perfect.

Jeffrey with his yodelling teddy bear, one of several wonderful gifts from his family in Austria.	A smile from Denise's cousin Monique.	Dipping his toes into the lake	Checking out Grandma Tomec	Three generations

 

Wednesday, June 25, 2003

Hitting the bottle. CLICK TO ENLARGE

It's 10:30 p.m., I've just finished tucking Jeffrey in, and I can't help but do a little dance as I shut the door behind me. Believe it or not, that door won't open again until 8:00 or 8:30 tomorrow morning! It's the milestone every bleary-eyed parent dreams of ... Jeffrey is sleeping through the night.

Anyone who's ever been a parent will no doubt understand my elation. It's been a long three months of 2 a.m. feedings and 4 a.m. feedings and 7 a.m. feedings, but it appears we've turned a big corner towards a saner future. No more sitting in front of the tube watching infomercials at 3:30 a.m. while Jeffrey sucks back his midnight snack

	I'm sure this will make wonderful fodder for humiliation someday when Jeffrey's girlfriend stops by for a visit. CLICK TO ENLARGE

Needless to say, a lot of the fellow parents I bump into are jealous and more than a little bitter. I met one mom on the beach yesterday who's still getting up two or three times a night to feed her 8-month-old baby. They've tried everything, but the little guy just wants to party till dawn.

It certainly appears as though we've lucked out in the genetic lottery. Actually, he's probably been ready to sleep all night for a few weeks, but I was too dense to pick up on his signals. I guess I was anticipating his hunger, jumping out of bed as soon as I heard him stirring, assuming that in another couple of minutes he'd start screaming. Then one night last week, around 3 a.m., I heard him stirring again. I got halfway out of bed, felt a nauseous wave of exhaustion sweep over me, and said "Screw it, I'll wait till he starts bawling." Next thing I knew, it was 8:30 a.m., and Denise actually had to go into his room to wake him up.

Well, I'm sure there's many a sleepless night to come when his teeth start to come in, or he gets sick, or any one of a hundred other reasons that I can't even begin to anticipate. But for the moment, I'm settling in for a beautiful, blissful sleeeeeeeeeeep...

Wednesday, June 11, 2003

	CLICK the image to hear Jeffrey squeal with glee.

One of the most rewarding things about being a parent is being able to watch your little guy transform from a gurgling, drooling, poop machine into a real, live human being. It's a long road, but every day seems to bring a new milestone to show his progress.Just a few weeks ago he started smiling, and now, suddenly, he's grinning and laughing like he's got the world by the nipple.Each day now, we catch him trying out a new vowel sound, a whoop or a squeal that we had no idea he could make.

I keep being struck by what a difference this is from my prior "parenting" experience -- namely with cats. Like kids, cats are cute, clever and get themselves into all kinds of trouble, but after a couple of years you realize the cute and clever things they're doing today really aren't that different from what they were doing last month or last year. With kids, though, as soon as you think you have them figured out, they come up with something new.

Each day, we watch Jeffrey's wobbly little neck muscles get a little firmer as he lifts his head and scopes out his surroundngs. He turns his little head when he hears interesting noises -- especially Mom or Dad's voice. His keen little eyes, once blank looking, now follow you across the room, and stop to gawk at anything new and different. A few weeks ago, he wasn't even aware he had hands, but now he's starting, in a very tentative, fumbling way, to reach out and grab things. The other day he reached out and, managing by some fluke to hook a finger around the rim of my glasses, he pulled them right off.

Jeffrey's also, for better or worse, started taking a keen interest in television. A company called Baby Einstein has put out a really cute series of videos aimed at kids as young as a month old. Babies, of course, aren't really interested in plot development or funny one-liners, so the video makers keep it very simple, flashing colorful images of toys, puppets, geometric patterns -- anything that will attract little eyes and get baby's neurons firing. The one tape we've bough so far has Mozart soundtrack which, studies suggest, stimulates the same neurons in the brain that are later used for mathematics.

We're not sure if Jeffrey is getting any smarter by watching it, but he sure does seem fascinated. His attention span isn't good for much more than 10 or 15 minutes, but while he is watching he's utterly facinated, starting intently at the screen, flapping his little arms and making little squealing noises when he spots something of particular interest. Although I'm a little worried about creating a little couch potato, I have to admit the tape it's something of a guilty pleasure. Those 10 or 15 minutes of blissful silence can make a world of difference for any stressed parent's sanity..

NEW QUICKTIME MOVIE: Jeffrey grins and makes silly noises for the camera.: DOWNLOAD (534k). Again, I've saved this file with the new Quicktime 6. If you have trouble seeing the movie, download the free software here.

Tuesday, June 3, 2003

Jeffrey is nine weeks old today, and we celebrated by hauling his poor little butt back into the doctor's office and sticking him with a very sharp needle. It was the first of many immunization shots, and he didn't handle it well. He was fine for a couple of hours while we ran around and got some grocery shopping done, but by the time we got home he was a souldering little volcano preparing to erupt. There were tears. There was screaming. And once his parents were done, Jeffrey cried a lot too.

A trip to the doctor's also meant another weigh-in, and we're proud to report little JD tipped the scales at a very healthy 12 lbs. I imagine he was probably a pound lighter by the time he left the building, though, having left behind in the doctor's office a poop as big as a schnauzer. Ironically, it had been a shocking eight days since our constipated little guy's last bowel movement, and we were just in the process of explaining his washroom woes to the doctor when, as if mocking us, he let loose with a massive pantload. Oh well, at least we have a couple of days reprieve now from his endless, incredibly rancid baby flatulence, which seems to get a little worse with every day between his bowel movements.

Poor Jeffrey. I just had a mental image of him reading this some day.

Ottawa's littlest hockey fan has a tantrum as his beloved Senators are defeated by the New Jersey Devils, crushing our Stanley Cup dreams for another year.

Wednesday, May 28, 2003

After many nights of listening to Jeffrey shreik and grunt in outrage at the thought of being put in his crib, I think we've finally cracked the case. A couple of nights ago, after yet another half-hour of listening to the tortured cries from his bedroom, I marched in on a weird impulse and simply flipped him over onto his tummy.

And then, dead silence. I stood there, gobsmacked, and watched as about two minutes later his eyes shut and he passed out like a sailor at the bottom of a rum barrel. It was as if somebody had smacked him senseless over the head with one of those big cartoon Acme anvils -- except there were no little birds tweeting in circles around his head. Since then he's slept longer and more peacefully than he ever has in his short little life.

Such a simple solution. I probably would have tried it weeks earlier if it hadn't been for the dire warnings of the health establishment, which will probably look upon my behaviour as child abuse. It seems that studies suggest babies who sleep on their backs have lesser chance of dying from SIDS than kids who sleep on their tummies -- although studies suggest there are a host of other risk factors that also contribute to SIDS deaths. Anyhow, the very vocal "back to sleep" movement has pretty well kiboshed stomach sleeping among North American infants -- and is also, by the way, helping to bring up an entire generation of kids with strikingly flat heads.

So what's a parent to do? Should we listen to the nervous nellies and continue to let Jeffrey writhe in seeming agony in his crib every night, or should we relent and let him do what seems to come natural for him? For the moment, at least, we're letting Jeffrey decide.

We do take some comfort, though, in the added peace of mind that come from our high-tech baby monitor, which includes an incredibly sensitive sensor pad placed under Jeffrey's mattress. The pad is sensitive enough to detect even the most gentle breathing, but if movement ceases the monitor unit emits an ear-piercing alarm.We've inadvertently tested the device many a night when we've hauled Jeffrey out of his crib for feeding and forgotten to switch the monitor off. Nothing like a little alarm blast to get your blood pumping at 3 in the morning.

Monday, May 19, 2003

Summer has officially arrived in our corner of the world, and Jeffrey is not especially impressed. He's stripped down to his diaper now, passed out in his little car seat (his fave napping spot), finally asleep after two straight hours of tears and frustration. Earlier this afternoon I strapped on the Snugli and took him out for a long walk downtown. He slept like ... well, like a baby the who time, but he arrived home in a foul mood. He ate far too much, refused to burp, and still demanded more, until finally he barfed and promptly fell asleep.

At age 7 weeks, I think we're safely out of the danger zone for colic now, but little JD is definitely showing his grumpy side. Almost every night at around dinnertime he has a little episode where he cries uncontrollably and almost nothing will calm him. We finally broke down and got him one of those battery-operated swings last week, and tonight Denise and I spent the better part of an hour taking turns sitting beside him as he rocked, ready to pop a soother back into his mouth every minute or two when he'd spit it out and start to scream. Maybe we're spoiling him, but anything is preferable to listening to his sad little howl of abandonment.

The highlight of Jeffrey's week was his first visit to the Children's Hospital of Eastern Ontario, where a specialist had a closer look at what his family doctor had at first diagnosed as a hernia. Turns out it's not a full-blown hernia, but rather a less serious condition called a hydrocele. Click on the link if you want all the gory details, but basically it means there's a little hole in Jeffrey's abdomen that's letting fluid leak into his scrotum. If the hole were bigger, it would probably mean surgery because of the likelihood that a bit of his intestinal tract might get jammed in the opening, with very messy results. As it stands, the doctor thinks the hole will likely close itself up without surgery. We'll be back for a follow-up in a year to make sure, but it looks now like it's not going to be a serious issue.

A big hello to the Bacon boys, Jonathan, Andrew and Daniel, who were deprived of their mom over the the long weekend so she could come down from their home in Sudbury to ogle our little boy. Jeffrey says thanks, Auntie Thelma, for your loving attention, and Denise and I are thankful, too, for taking a little of the pressure off these bleary-eyed parents for a few days. Below is a new batch of baby pictures, mostly shot against the gorgeous backdrop of Ottawa's famous Tulip Festival.

Auntie Thelma

Monday, May 12, 2003

Well, I think another week has settled it. We have a monster baby.

Jeffrey's official weigh-in last week almost broke the scale at an astounding 11 lbs. To put it into perspective, that's almost double where he stood just a month ago in the hospital, when he slipped down below 6 lbs.and we feared he might wither away to nothing.

We met a bunch of other parents and their kids at the well-baby clinic last week, and I cast an envious eye at a baby who looked about Jeffrey's size, but appeared leaps and bounds ahead of him. Holding his little head up without assistance and smiling like an angel as he looked up at his mom, he seemed so much more alert and coordinated than anything I'd ever seen from Jeffrey. "How old is he?" I asked, figuring he couldn't be too far off Jeffrey's 5 weeks. "Oh, he's four-and-a-half months," she replied.

MONTHS! Yikes! So it turns out Jeffrey's not a dullard after all, just a big, BIG boy. At the rate he's growing, I imagine by the time he reaches that other scrawny kid's age we'll be entering him in sumo wrestling competitions. Check out these latest pics, some of them shot just yesterday, to see how his features are filling out. We're already nostalgically packing up some newborn outfits that he'll never fit again.

The other parents at the clinic we pretty impressed by his size, but what really blew them away was his noisiness. Although the doctors have tried to convince us that all babies make noises like Jeffrey's, that's not the feedback we're getting from other parents, who are astounded by the monstrous snorts, sqeals and grunts that come out of him round the clock -- often out both ends at once. For those of you who still don't get it, I've attached a video clip of his activites last night ...

NEW QUICKTIME MOVIE: A "sleeping" Jeffrey groans, coughs and farts for the camera, but doesn't appear to be catching many Z's.: DOWNLOAD (500k). I saved this file with the new Quicktime 6, so you might not be able to view without upgrading. If you have trouble, download the free upgrade here.

Tuesday, April 29, 2003

Light a little candle for our man Jeffrey, who is four weeks old today. We celebrated with a trip to the doctor's office, where our growing boy weighed in at a very healthy 9 lbs., 8 oz. -- although it feels like triple that sometimes when we're dragging his expanding little butt around. He got a more or less clean bill of health, except for one minor development that we'll have to follow up on in comng weeks. It seems that little Jeffrey has a hernia.

It's a long story, but basically it appears that a little piece of Jeffrey's intestine has slipped through a little hole in his pelvis and slid into his scrotum. It's actually fairly common, we're told, but it could create problems later if the little hole closes up again and cuts off that piece of intestine. Right now they want to keep an eye on it, but, in the worst-case scenario, it will mean minor surgery to slip all his bits back into their proper place.

CLICK TO HEAR JEFFREY "SLEEPING"

The only other health concern we've been dealing with in the last little while is constipation.We got a little freaked the other day when our little poop factory went almost a day and a half hours without a bowel movement. The doctor says it's likely because we've been supplementing him with formula, which has a tendency to gum things up a lot more than breast milk Anyway, it all, um, cleared itself up yesterday in one HUGE pantload that left me, um, breathless.

We were also a little worried for while about the bizarre, and sometimes violent, squawks and grunts that seem to be coming out of Jeffrey 24/7. Listen to the attached audio file to get an idea of what I'm talking about. Dunno about you, but I've never heard a baby make noises anthing like that before. Again, though, the doctor says it's nothing to be alarmed about. Her only advice for the jittery, and increasingly sleep deprived parents who have to sit up listening to this cacaphony every night a 3 am, is to shut the baby monitor off and try to ignore it. Dunno if we're ready for that yet. Maybe we'll just have to invest in earplugs.

Thursday, April 24, 2003

Well, our various visitors and the parade of well wishers have finally left, three weeks later, and there's nobody left but me, and Denise ... and baby makes three. I know all his family are eager for fresh photos, so here's a new batch to keep you at bay...

With cousin David Vanlandeghem, age 10		With Grampa Duguay	With Aunti Margaret Vanlandeghem

Astute readers will no doubt have noticed that my postings have been getting thinner and thinner lately. That's mostly because it's difficult to type while wearing a straitjacket. I'm kidding. Sort of. It's getting harder all the time to get routine things done, to be ambitious, to stay awake long enough to complete a thought. I think all the time about funny little anecdotes I want to write in my journal.But mostly I just try to sleep.

I know now that there's nothing -- not books, not prenatal classes, and certainly not cautionary tales from other parents -- that can truly prepare you for the way parenting will completely obliterate any semblance of your old life. Your old ambitions, your hobbies, your energy, all slowly vanish into a blur of holding the baby, feeding the baby, changing the baby's diapers, soothing the baby, worrying about the baby.

The process is a lot like brainwashing: You're deprived of sleep. You're made to repeat boring, repetitive tasks at random times of day or night. You're constantly told that your petty needs and wants aren't important. You're peed upon, pooped upon and puked upon until bit by bit, your dignity is stripped away. You're bawled out for not following orders (Feed me! NOW!) quickly enough.And finally, when all your defences are broken down, you start to love the very person who's the source of all your misery.

Speaking of bodily functions, I can't believe how much I've been peed upon in my few short weeks of parenting.Are these expensive diaper brands, with their multimillion dollar ad campaigns, good for anything, or should I just wrap Jeffrey in leaves and twigs and be done with it? Are we doing something wrong? It seems like no matter what we try, I can't put Jeffrey in my lap without feeling a sudden, warm gush in my lap. I was ready for the spitting up part, which is well documented (though not the part about baby power-puking out his nose) in child-care books, but nobody ever mentioned the golden showers.

Ok, enough bitching for one night. Despite frequent moaning from his parents, Jeffrey is doing fine. He's putting on weight steadily -- to the extent that we're already seeing the beginnings of a double chin. He eats voraciously and still sleeps all the time. Often, by some feat of baby multitasking, he seems to accomplish both simultaneously. So far, we've only really determined three reasons why he cries: Because he wants to be held, because he's being changed, bathed or otherwise manhandled against his will, or because he wants to eat. Hence, it usually doesn't take Sherlock Holmes to deduce what the little guy wants. If you're holding him in your arms and you're not attempting to change him, he must be hungry.

At the risk of jinxing it, it's starting to look like we lucked out in the genetic lottery and made ourselves a baby that doesn't know the meaning of the dreaded C word (colic, of course.) Hope I haven't spoken too soon.

Saturday, April 19, 2003

Today we turn this space over to young Rachel Vanlandeghem, 14, Jeffrey's oldest cousin: Hello! I'm Rachel. I'm from Sault Ste. Marie and I'm here with my mom and my brother David to see my cousin Jeffrey. Jeffrey is adorable!! When I held him he wasn't fussy at all. He just sat there and stared at me. He slept a lot and he eats a lot. I fed him a bottle and he drank the whole thing in 10 minutes. I have three other cousins who are younger than me, but I only really remember holding little Daniel when he was a baby. He's around 6 now, so it's been a long time since I held a baby. We're leaving here Monday, but tomorrow we're going to stay here and Grandma is going to cook a great supper with ham and scalloped potatoes and yucky cabbage rolls. I'll also be spending more time holding Jeffrey. There's not a whole lot else you can do with a baby that little.

Wednesday, April 16, 2003

Irrational fears are as much a part of the new parenting experience as dirty diapers and sleepless nights. Are we feeding him enough? Is he eating too much? Why does he sleep so much? Does he sound sick to you? My God, he's stopped breathing! Uh, no, there he goes again.

TWO WEEKS OLD!

Desperate for some kind of external validation of our shaky parenting skills, we very enthusiastically brought Jeffrey in for his two-week checkup today. And we're proud to report that the doctor chose not to call child welfare authorities and have us carted away in handcuffs. In fact, little JD seems to be thriving beyond expectations. He weighed in today at 7 lbs., 10 oz., which doesn't sound like much, but represents a dramatic improvement from where he stood in his first few days.

In the past week, the doctor figures he's put on an average 45 grams a day in weight -- which is pretty extraordinary, considering that 30 grams a day is the target we were shooting for. Denise still can't see it, but I'm noticing a little bit of pudginess in his face, arms and legs, where a few days earlier we saw nothing but gaunt skin and bones. The changes so far have been subtle, but they really hit home earlier today at the doctor's office, when we bumped into another couple that had just had a baby six days ago. I held Jeffrey up beside the other wee one, and was blown away by the size difference.Was our little boy ever that small?

One other event of note on this, the 15th day of little Jeffrey's life. Today he received the very first piece of mail addressed to him: His provincial health card. Hey, at least it wasn't a bill.

Saturday April 12, 2003

We've both spent countless hours staring at our sleeping baby's perfect little eyelids, but what lies beneath has always been a bit of a mystery. Every once in a while we'll catch brief peek-a-boo glimpses of Jeffrey's little eyeballs, but always fleeting. Last night, though, our little boy came alive in a way that completely blew us away. We had just returned home from a stroll along the Rideau Canal when all of a sudden his eyes popped open, and stayed that way. It was like he'd just woken up for the very first time, his keen little gaze scanning all around the room, peering into our faces and taking in every nuance. It must have been half an hour before his lids slid shut and he resumed his status as a narcoleptic newborn.

It's not a big deal, I know, but it's one of the first of countless tiny steps Jeffrey will take on his way to maturity, a sign that he's leaving the angelic, peaceful newborn stage and starting to explore the bigger world around him.

Another sure sign of his transition came today while resting his head on grandma's shoulder. Alerted by the sudden sound of his mother's voice, he lifted his head up and held it aloft, bobbing his little neck uncertainly and scanning the room for what must have been at least 30 seconds before gravity finally got the best of him. Another milestone arrived yesterday when Jeffrey's little umbilical stump -- the short, beef-jerky-like bit of dried up tissue left behind after I ceremonially snipped Jeffrey's umbilical cord a few moments after birth -- had shrivelled up and fallen off, leaving behind a beautiful little baby belly button.

It's all happening so fast now. We're keenly aware of just how fleeting these first days of parenthood are, and how quickly we're hurtling into parts unknown.

Thursday, April 10, 2003

Well, here I am again, typing with a baby in my lap, trying desperately to ignore the urgent rumblings percolating up from his nether regions.My beloved kitty, who in happier days would be curled atop my warm computer monitor, is on the carpet staring at us resentfully.

A lot of people have asked me how Mez is handling life with his new "little brother," and I have to say so far the reviews have not been entirely positive. For the first couple of days after we got home from the hospital, kitty tried ever so hard to pretend Jeffrey didn't exist. She'd eagerly sniff at every new blanket and baby toy, yet despite the fact she was sitting in plain view of the baby, she made a point of never so much as casting an eye in his direction. Sudden whimpers or movement that would normally startle kitty's hair-trigger reflexes were met with complete apathy.

That's slowly starting to change as the days go by. Yesterday, while Jeffrey napped in the living room, Mez cauuuuutiously crept up and perched on her hind legs for a moment to peer over the edge of the chair. Seeing that the squirmy little interloper posed no immediate threat, she gingerly bent over and sniffed ... first his feet, then his crotch. I don't imagine Mez will ever be best of friends with the creature who stole her bedroom, but no doubt she'll fill many idle hours staring at him. So boring is your average housecats's life that even a new enemy comes as a pleasant surprise.

Meanwhile, Jeffrey had a visit today from the Ottawa Sun's other resident baby, little five-week-old Charlotte Walters-Ralston. It wasn't a very auspicious meeting for the two potential suitors, neither of whom woke up long enough to acknowledge each other. Still, it makes for a cute picture.

CLICK TO ENLARGE

 

Tuesday, April 8, 2003

"Ooooopen wide, open wide! Coooooome on boy."

Denise's voice wafts up the stairs, coaxing, chiding, occasionally pleading. This is now the soundtrack of my life. If it's not feeding time, it's almost feeding time, or it's way past feeding time and little Jeffrey is screaming like an Eritrean orphan. Food is Jeffrey's life -- a strange prediliction for a catatonic little lump who won't even open his mouth unless he's being gently rapped on the head, tickled or poked.

	CLICK TO ENLARGE

OK, so maybe food isn't his life so much as food and sleep -- all sadistically timed to maximizes the potential inconvenience to Mom and Dad. Two nights in a row now, he's started screaming within 30 seconds of my head hitting the pillow. We finally hauled out the breast pump last night, Denise desperately hoping that I'll be able to take over and let her snooze through his 2 am feeding. As usual, though, Jeffrey had his own plans.Last night, he started wailing earlier than usual, so I gave him a bottle at 1am, put him to bed, but immediately had to retrieve him after he started to cry. Held him at bay for another half an hour, fed him a little formula, and again tried in vain put him to bed again. In the end, I had to wake Denise up for a proper feeding at, you guessed it, exactly 2 am.

Like many newborns, Jeffrey's concept of day and night is hopelessly screwed. All day long, he sleeps like Homer Simpson at Sunday Mass.(I don't think we're taken a single daylight photo of him where his eyes are open.Come 11 or midnight, though, and he's dancing La Cucaracha and pumped to party 'til dawn.

(Oh-oh. Denise just came upstairs, dumped you-know-who in my lap with a sight, and went to bed.You really haven't lived until you've tried typing with an infant dozing in your lap.)

Where was I? Anyhow, it would all be unspeakably irritating if he wasn't so damned cute. Denise and I catch ourselves getting cranky every once in a while, and baby will invariably make a funny gurgling noise, or let out an earth-shattering fart, and, despite our exhaustion, we're start giggling and beaming at our precious little poopypants. Looking down at my lap now, it appears he's right on schedule. His little eyes are open (for a change), he's staring right at me, curling the toes on both feet together as if he's saying a little monkey prayer. "Oooophhhhhhht!!" he says and gived a little stretch.

What's not to love?

Sunday, April 6, 2003

BABY'S GROWING FAN CLUB: GRANDMA DUGUAY ...
DENISE'S COUSIN, MONIQUE

CLICK TO DOWNLOAD QUICKTIME VIDEO (2.2 MB)

Nothing will ever be normal again, but on our first full day at home, life is at least starting to take on the outlines of a routine.This morning, Jeffrey had the first bath of his little life, and if cleanliness really is next to godliness, we might want to think about renaming our little boy Damien.The moment the lukewarm water touched his teeny, naked butt, he let loose the shreik of the damned. I know, I know, it's not possible for a newborn, but after reviewing the video a dozen times I'd swear there's one point where the little scamp actually stands up and tries to leap out of the tub.

It was definitely the most energetic outburst we've seen so far from our narcoleptic newborn, who can't seem to wake himself to save his life. Waking Jeffrey up and trying in vain to cram some food into him before he falls asleep again has become a new olympic event in our home, forcing us to invent ever more creative strategies -- some gentle, some strangely sadistic -- to keep him alert and hungry.At various time, we've tried tickling his feet, stroking him under the chin, burping, changing, lifting his arms up above his head, scrunching him up into a little fetal ball, grabbing him around the neck like a strangled chicken and rocking his little body back and forth -- all to see his little eyes open up by the tiniest crack, then close again as soon as he starts to eat.In this slightly demented variation on parenting, the pinnacle of our achievement is to actually make poor Jeffrey cry. A crying baby has an open mouth, at least. and if you're desperate enough to see the little guy eat, you can work with that.

Today also saw the first of a steady stream of scheduled and unscheduled visitorsdrop by to gawk at our new arrival.Many adoring sighs all around. He really IS a handsome lad, with far fewer of the blemishes and bruises that befall a typical baby during the birth ordeal.Our guests seem particularly smitten with his big, manyly hands and feet, his long, slender fingers and toes. The consensus seems to be that he's gonna be a big, big boy.

Denise, meanwhile is coping well, but still in a lot of pain and starting to feel the first twinges of baby blues. She's very alarmed that her new blood pressure medication is making her woozy, preventing her from safely carrying her baby, and making her even MORE sleepy than she already is, if that's possible. She spent most of the afternoon napping, and will likely spend most of the night again lying in a semi-stupous with a half-sleeping baby attached to her breast.

Saturday, April 5, 2003

Well, our precious little package has finally made it home (I can hear him cooing gently to himself in the next room as I type) and the feeling of relief washing over our little family is hard to describe.It looked for a long time like today was going to end with the same disappointment as the day before. By morning, it looked like the worst of little Jeffrey's jaundice crisis had passed, and with favourable blood tests back this morning, the nurses had us convinced we were just a matter of an hour or so from being released from their care. We excitedly packed up our things and phoned Grandma Duguay, who was still waiting alone at our place. Then word came back that Denise's wonky post-partum blood pressure had again taken a turn for the worse, and it looked like we were again facing a night -- number 6 -- in hospital exile.

Fortunately, it didn't turn out that way.They started Denise on a new blood pressure medication, and after cooling our heels at the hospital until nearly 5 p.m., we finally got the OK to flee. A pathetic little postscript to this tale reflects just how tired I am. With a spring blizzard still going strong, we bundled little Jeffrey up in his finest winter weather duds (all three sizes too big, I'm sure) and upon reaching the car, I promptly plunked the car seat into its base the wrong way (facing forward instead of backward) and it jammed into place, half in and half out of position. It took almost half an hour of bickering and cursing to finally figure out how to release the *&%$# thing.

So, were finally home, and none too soon, I might add. Grandma Duguay, who was no doubt climbing the walls alone at home, finally has a little boy to hold. Denise, who's been struggling with the hospital food, isolation and the horribly uncomfortable hospital room furniture, can finally properly eat, sleep and feed her little guy in peace. And I'm finally free from my bizarre life as a semi-prisoner at the Civic, spending 18 hours or so a day locked up in a tiny little hospital room with a hungry child and a cranky mom.

Jeffrey, meanwhile, appears to be doing well. He's finally gaining weight, after dropping prefcipitously to less than 6-and-a-half pounds -- though largely thanks to the strange addictive powers of SimilCrack, which they've basically forced us to supplement with as Jeffrey struggles recover from his jaundice episode. Baby is now awake much more often, and we're finally getting a good look into his keen little eyes, which are following movement around the room and stare at you with an uncanny sort of placid wisdom..

MORE SHOTS FROM OUR FINAL DAY AT THE HOSPITAL:

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Friday, April 4, 2003

A friend of mine told me just a few days ago, when parenthood still seemed like a distant fantasy, that every family has its own unique maternity ward story, and "you will have your own story soon enough." As these photos of my suddenly psychedelic baby confirm, our story definitely isn't proceeding according to script.

Last night was awful. Jeffrey's sleepiness of earlier in the day crept ever more steadily into full-blown lethargy. It became harder and harder to wake him for his feedings. He'd cry enthusiastically for supper, then take one tentative suckle and fall fast asleep. Last night it took the both of us tickling and cajoling him almost constantly to get him feeding, despite the fact that he was obviously voracious. The routine went on like a broken record: Cry for food, issue a muffled little protest when a breast is flopped into his face, suck it back like a camel at a desert oasis, fall asleep halfway betwen gulps, wait for daddy to shake his hand or tickle him under the chin, take a few sips, then fall asleep again. After an hour or so we'd give up, put him to bed, and he'd immediately start to cry and make suckling sounds. We'd pick him up and start the whole merry-go-round up again.Over and over we went through this frustrating routine, until before we knew it it was 8 am and the orderlies were bringing in breakfast. I don't think I slept more than half an hour the whole night.

CLICK TO ENLARGE

This morning, as we tried desperately to feed him some more, finally even resorting to a bottle of the dreaded SimilCrack, we were informed that he had a pretty bad case of jaundice. It's nothing life threatening, but it does explain his lethargy. Ironically, the best defence to help his liver cleanse the impurities in his bloodstream is a good, steady liquid diet -- the very thing he was denying himself amid his exhaustion. Finally this afternoon, as we were packing up and waiting for the OK to take Jeffrey home, we got word that his condition was serious enough to cancel our plans and keep us locked up in that increasingly claustrophobic little hospital room for at least another night. For Denise, who's obviously been through a lot this week, it was yet another cruel joke played on our April Fool's Day family.

Jeffrey was whisked back to the Observation Room, where he's being treated night-and-day under the bizarre purple hue of the ultraviolet-light incubator pictured above, and Denise was left tearstricken in her hospital room, overwhelmed. With the hospital still locked down under the SARS scare, she's totally cut off from waiting friends and family in the outside world, lonely, sick, sleep-deprived and worried about her baby. I've snuck home for a few hours of respite while she catches up on her sleep, but it looks like it's back to the Civic again for another bad night. Dunno if our family's story is ever going to roll around to the joyful homecoming.

Thursday, April 3, 2003

With Denise still a little groggy from the drugs, the nurses whisked little Jeffrey away again last night and fed him a bottle. I suppose it's necessary, since the little guy has lost about 7 or 8 per cent of his birth weight in the past two days. But, man, we may have been better off if they'd handed him a crack pipe. For a while there it felt like all the gains we'd made in the breastfeeding department had come to naught. JD took little interest in the mammary flopping in front of him, only venturing a tentative suckle or two before falling asleep again, obviously dreaming of that sweet bong of Similac his dealer had hooked him up with last night.It took a few more tries, plus a generous smear of the fake milk on Denise's nipple, before he was at it again, but very tentatively.

Sadly, I'm already a far greater expert at the intricacies of breastfeeding than I ever imagined, or feared. I can go on at length about the tickle-him-under-the-chin maneuvre and the merits of the football hold over a lying down posture. Yikes! When can I go back to work?

Anyhow, after much gnashing of teeth, the breastfeeding thing is going much more smoothly now. Little Jeffrey is eagerly suckling for a half hour or more at a time. And despite finding it a challenge even with four or five hands holding and squeezing and teasing and propping, Denise finally managed tonight to get through an entire feeding on her own. But we're still a little worried about the nurses luriing him away tonight with their evil nectar, so I'm heading over in a couple of minutes to bunk down in her room and spend the night lending a hand. With any luck we'll be free to go tomorrow, so this one last effort should help Jeffrey to Just Say No.

All our baby-burdened friends already seem quite jealous at the amount that little Jeffrey is sleeping. I know newborns sleep a lot, but this laid-back little guy can barely stay awake to eat, and seems impossibly easy to please. Just pick him up, hold him tight and whisper a little "shhhhhhh....." in his ears (simulating the sounds of the womb, I'm told) and he falls right to sleep.

NEW QUICKTIME MOVIE: Jeffrey sneezes and squirms in Mom's arms: LARGE (2.4 MB) or SMALL (750K)

Wednesday, April 2, 2003

Denise is doing much better today. After a rough night, zonked out on meds, sleeping poorly and unable to see her precious little bundle, she was pretty miserable, but this morning they wheeled the little guy into her room and they've been inseparable ever since. Breastfeeding seems to be progressing very well, despite dire warnings about the difficulty involved.When presented with an appropriate mammary, young Jeffrey kind of looked at us and said "I wasn't born yesterday, y'know!" and seemed to figure out what to do very quickly. Considering his gluttonous genes, I don't imagine he'll be a picky eater.

Denise's condition has stabilized nicely, and tonight they've moved her from out of the birthing unit, where she was basically under intensive care, to an ordinary hospital room.

Our time here at the Civic has been hugely eased by the dedicated maternity ward nurses, who've been infinitely patient and sensitive to our needs during a very stressful time. Our only regret about our hospital stay is the concentration camp-style atmosphere that pervades the place in the midst of this SARS scare. The hospital is locked down tight, big warning signs are up in every corner, and security guards are turning away all visitors. Unfortunately, the growing list of people who want to spend time with our little munchkin will simply have to wait.

That includes Grandma Duguay, who spent the day sitting at our place twiddling her thumbs.With any luck, we'll be home Friday and the parade of gawkers can begin.

Tuesday, April 1, 2003

Well, what a day it's been. Labour seemed to go pretty well except Denise's blood pressure was too high. They put her on a magnesium sulphate drip to control it, and along with the epidural it ended up putting Denise to sleep through much of the labour. They kind of shook her awake for the final two hours of pushing, and the rest is history.

The real April fool came later in the evening, though, when Denise started to bleed profusely. They had to put her under general anesthetic and take her into the OR to fish out a little bit of placenta that got away. She ended up spending the night in pretty bad shape, hopped up on all manner of drugs, so she never really got serious time with baby. It was all quite terrifying for a little while, but we appear to be safely over the hump now.

Tomorrow will be a better day, I'm sure.

Lots more photos, but I don't have time to sort them all out. I'm running out of fuel fast.

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QUICKTIME MOVIES (Fairly poor quality, since I had to crunch them down to size for quick downloading)
weigh-in (650 KB)
bigger version of weigh-in clip (1.2 MB)
huge version of the same clip (2.4 MB)