My little guy is awesome. He's a pretty happy baby most of the time (I'm not bragging here, I'm thanking the Grand High Poo-bah of the Universe for throwing my wife and I a bone) and he's smiley and adorable and we love watching him. He's cute when he sleeps.
In the daylight.
In the darkness, there are concerns. Baby bad dreams where he cries in his sleep - they break your heart. The moaning that isn't bothering him much but will keep his mom or me awake. Sudden inconsolable crying in the wee hours (this happened more early on and is not so much a problem anymore, knock on all the woods). And of course (especially for mom) there's the "IS MY BABY STILL ALIVE I HAVE TO CHECK ON HIM TO MAKE SURE HE'S BREATHING EVERY 10 MINUTES OR ELSE HE MAY NOT BE BREATHING IS HE BREATHING I DON'T THINK HE'S BREATHING OH GOD SOMEONE GET ME A MIRROR TO HOLD UNDER HIS NOSE SO I CAN MAKE SURE HE'S STILL PUMPING OXYGEN IN AND OUT OF HIS TINY LUNGS...oh, he just moved thank God," phase that happens...and in some cases continues to happen...for a long time.
But those are not what I write to you about right now. What I want to discuss is how my adorable, smiley, giggly, happy little guy somehow turns super-creepy in the middle of the night.
Here's what happened. He was making some sounds and I was up, so I went in to check on him. I noticed that his eyes were open. But even though his eyes were wide open, staring sideways out of the crib, he made no movement of recognition when I approached him. He didn't turn his head to follow me when I came in the room, he just kept staring sideways out of his crib. Even as I stood in front of him looking down at him, he didn't seem to register my presence. It was strange. And then he moved his head, slowly, toward me. And when I say slowly, I mean it was horror-movie-cliche sort of slow head turning. He rotated his head a quarter turn, but it took him like 10 seconds to do it. And then, expressionless, he stopped when he was staring straight into my eyes. His face muscles didn't move, didn't twitch. The only thing that moved was his neck. And then he stared into my face like he was judging what my soul might taste like.
I was so off-put, I literally said out loud "Whoa, that was way creepy, dude," then crammed a pacifier in his gob and got the hell out of there. The next time he made noise, I let my wife go deal with it. Even demons don't want to mess with an over-tired newborn's mom.
Monday, February 17, 2014
Eating Giraffes and Pooping
"So, nice name for a blog, ya weirdo," is what you are undoubtedly thinking if you found this by accident while researching the digestive habits of African herbivores. Or maybe you were doing some late night cramming in order to ace your zoology test. Or maybe you're looking in the dark corners of the internet for a fetish so strange, I can only assume you're some sort of German big-game hunter with crippling emotional issues. No, this is a blog about my kid. Or rather, my response to my kid. You see, he's my first child and he's little and cute and dependent and I am a first-time father trying my best not to get him killed.
As a little guy, around 5 months old, he can't do much. He can cry and suck milk out of a boob and giggle and fart and burp and seem very interested in the world around him, but there isn't much he's consciously doing. You stick something in his mouth, he sucks it. He gets gassy, he passes that gas through his mouth or butt. He pees willy-nilly. He see's something interesting, he stares at it for a while until he gets bored.
There are only 2 things so far he really does with a purpose. The first is actively reaching for things around him - toys, towels, blocks, really whatever strikes his fancy at the time. What strikes his fancy a good amount of the time is a Giraffe named Sophie.
A quick aside on Sophie. Sophie is a giraffe toy that is made out of molded rubber and has a squeaker inside it that goes off when you apply enough pressure. These toys are French or something and are a big freakin' deal in the baby toy market. They cost like 25 or 30 bucks retail (we got one from someone at the baby shower). They are a dog's squeak toy. You know the little rubber bones or balls or squirrels that dogs chase around that makes squeaking sounds when they bite down? That's Sophie. Only instead of a ball or a chipmunk, it's a giraffe. I looked up the price of a squeak bone...I can get a pair (that's TWO) for 3 bucks. But take the same thing, produce it in France, and market it to a baby, and it's 10 times as much. I don't get it.
Anyway, digression over. So the little guy does enjoy his dog toy. In fact, one of the things he most likes to do on this earth is grab Sophie by the neck and chew on her legs. Actively grabbing onto and playing with Sophie (or his block/taggie monkey/etc) is one of the 2 things he actually thinks about and works at. He has a purpose.
The 2nd thing he does is poop. He gives thought to it. He stops what he's doing. He's wiggling away, wiggling away...then he stops. He concentrates. He puts all his effort into the task at hand. And then when he's done he goes back to what he was doing. He's in his jumper, jumping around jumping around, having a grand ol' time. Stop...concentrate...no jumping, just....there we go. And then it's back on to jumping. He doesn't alert us to his need, he doesn't cry afterward (usually) he just stops and puts all his little focus and effort into pooping and continues on his day until the smell wafts up to his mother or I and we change him.
So that's what I named the blog. Those are the 2 things the little guy concentrates his effort on at this stage. Eating giraffes and pooping.
As a little guy, around 5 months old, he can't do much. He can cry and suck milk out of a boob and giggle and fart and burp and seem very interested in the world around him, but there isn't much he's consciously doing. You stick something in his mouth, he sucks it. He gets gassy, he passes that gas through his mouth or butt. He pees willy-nilly. He see's something interesting, he stares at it for a while until he gets bored.
There are only 2 things so far he really does with a purpose. The first is actively reaching for things around him - toys, towels, blocks, really whatever strikes his fancy at the time. What strikes his fancy a good amount of the time is a Giraffe named Sophie.
A quick aside on Sophie. Sophie is a giraffe toy that is made out of molded rubber and has a squeaker inside it that goes off when you apply enough pressure. These toys are French or something and are a big freakin' deal in the baby toy market. They cost like 25 or 30 bucks retail (we got one from someone at the baby shower). They are a dog's squeak toy. You know the little rubber bones or balls or squirrels that dogs chase around that makes squeaking sounds when they bite down? That's Sophie. Only instead of a ball or a chipmunk, it's a giraffe. I looked up the price of a squeak bone...I can get a pair (that's TWO) for 3 bucks. But take the same thing, produce it in France, and market it to a baby, and it's 10 times as much. I don't get it.
Anyway, digression over. So the little guy does enjoy his dog toy. In fact, one of the things he most likes to do on this earth is grab Sophie by the neck and chew on her legs. Actively grabbing onto and playing with Sophie (or his block/taggie monkey/etc) is one of the 2 things he actually thinks about and works at. He has a purpose.
The 2nd thing he does is poop. He gives thought to it. He stops what he's doing. He's wiggling away, wiggling away...then he stops. He concentrates. He puts all his effort into the task at hand. And then when he's done he goes back to what he was doing. He's in his jumper, jumping around jumping around, having a grand ol' time. Stop...concentrate...no jumping, just....there we go. And then it's back on to jumping. He doesn't alert us to his need, he doesn't cry afterward (usually) he just stops and puts all his little focus and effort into pooping and continues on his day until the smell wafts up to his mother or I and we change him.
So that's what I named the blog. Those are the 2 things the little guy concentrates his effort on at this stage. Eating giraffes and pooping.
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