Bub

At 7:30 this morning I was woken up by a gibbering six month old ready to get his day started. I had went to bed five hours prior, so I did what any other self loving parent would do- I ignored him. Luckily, he talked himself back to sleep and we started the day together at 8:45- which is more my style.

Last week we realized the little Bub had been playing us. We came to the realization that he was almost always falling asleep on one of us before being put down. Sure it’s endearing, but we were afraid we were creating a little sleep monster, destined to be held by one of us for the sake of falling asleep until adolescence- so we decided to nip the little Bub in his little bud.

Along with a more defined bedtime/naptime routine we decided to trade out his cradling bassinet for a flat mattress. Those are two pretty big changes in his life to try at once- he would still be sleeping next to our bed however, and we would all endure what was about to happen.

Well, nothing much really happened, sorry to say. We let him cry alone in his bed, and after about fifteen minutes, he was asleep… for thirteen hours. The next night for twelve. And again the following night for twelve. Night four he woke up once to change his wet diaper and have a bite, and the nights after that have become a blur of waking up sometimes once, sometimes not at all. Lately he just talks or peeps randomly throughout the night, and then falls back to sleep. We’ve been pretty lucky so far.

I attribute the good sleep to his new flat mattress- he likes to kick around and move like he’s having his own horizontal dance party. All night I hear the swish-swooshing of his legs flailing about. It’s quite distracting really. I know, poor me, my baby’s sleep distracts me. I came in from work one night and opened the door to his legs straight up in the air and him bringing them down forcefully against the mattress over and over again. In the shadows of the nightlight he reminded me of the creepy girl from The Exorcist. I don’t know if one should count that as sleep, but since he’s not crying, I will most certainly count it as sleep.

Abs
This is how I found Arlo one night- but with his legs- he can’t quite get his body up yet, but when he can this is what I expect to find.

Speaking of leg lifts, the fact that Arlo can lift his legs up to a 90º angle is quite a feat. They are meaty! Let’s just say Arlo is a very healthy baby with thighs so big they have their own thighs. He also has upper and lower cheeks on each side of his face. His real chin sits between his lower cheeks, but is a mere dimple compared to his second chin that hides the entirety of his neck. It’s not just my observations mind you, Kylie confided in my that she was afraid his fingers were going to spontaneously explode they seemed so swollen.IMG_2235

But hey, we love him, even with that hair. His skullet has fallen away. For about a week he was completely bald with the exception of about 19 wispy long hairs that danced on top of his head like they were advertising used cars on an old dirt lot. Now those 19 dancers wave about surrounded by an ultra thin carpet of downy hair. His most prominent hair feature are his eyebrows. They are dark, usually angry looking, and much of the time seem to be not two, but one single brow traversing across his face like a drunk caterpillar.

Oh, I know what you’re thinking, Say something cute about him- he’s your son. Well I’m just afraid of becoming that parent that gushes over his child when everyone else thinks he is a hideous monster. I’ve expressed that sentiment before. I mean, who goes around telling a parent the truth, that their child looks like a brown naked mole rat? So I prefer to be safe, and point out what seems to be apparent. Honestly though, I’m sure there are some cute things about him… I know one for sure- his favorite toy is a whisk. That’s cute!

Arlo is a half a year old today. Happy half birthday Bub! Maybe your Papa will go out and buy you a brand new whisk! The little Bub is growing up so fast I’m going to be forty before I know it.

Aw shit! I turned forty years old last month! Seriously, I did. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me. I know it shouldn’t, but forty… my god. Everyday I think about how much of Arlo’s life I might not be around for- I mean I’m having an honest to god midlife crisis right now. I dwell on this thought and get sad.

Clint
I’m not crying, it’s just raining on my face.

I was talking to a guy at the bar last night, he seemed to be about sixty years old- He was telling me how his son is thirty-three, and also his best friend. He was saying how fun kids are when they are as young as Arlo, but now he and his son will go have a beer together and catch up. I told him that sounds great, but when Arlo is thirty-three I’ll be seventy-three, that might not work out so well for me. He looked at me, smiled, and said, “Dude, I’m seventy-three.”

Our conversation coupled with his surprising (youthfulness) made me feel a little better about being an older father. I’ve joked with Kylie before that I wanted to make my own best friend- and hopefully I have- and maybe I’ll be around to hang out with Arlo a longer than I thought- if I don’t do something stupid. Since turning forty and dealing with these thoughts, I’ve also had a sort of “enforced epiphany” if you will. I’ve come to the realization that whatever choice I make for myself, it’s not just for myself- Arlo is ultimately affected too. Meaning, if I cross the street without looking both ways, it doesn’t matter if he is at home with Kylie that moment, because if I get hit by a bus, he will bear the effects for the rest of his life.

Or how about a lighter example- Let’s say I decide to eat two bags of chips everyday- I’m not talking little fun-size Frito-Lay bags- I’m talking full flavor kettle cooked Cape Cod Dark Russet potato chips-capecod Two bags everyday (that would be a dream)- I’m not even sharing them with Arlo- But he would be affected by the consequences of my actions- His friends would make fun of him for having a fat greasy father (who would probably be living alone in a van down by the river because his wife kicked him out for being disgusting)- which adds another consequence to Arlo’s life because of my action- he would grow up in a single parent home.

Really, a single parent home, all because I like to eat chips. Poor Arlo.

Update!!

(as of right now- I haven’t posted this yet, but it seems appropriate use of red lettering and exclamation marks)

In honor of Arlo’s Half Year Birthday we just fed him his first solid(ish) food! Kylie has been talking about wanting to feed Arlo some avocado for months. Well, it just happened ten minutes ago… and he showed that avocado who was boss!

IMG_2240

IMG_2241
Funny, Your Papa has the same guilty look when he eats a bag of chips- Happy Birthday Bub!

 

Coo

It’s 2:07 am and Arlo and I just finished watching Straight Outta Compton. We made a drinking game out of it. Anytime the movie made us want to punch a white guy or a cop, we drank- Arlo finished his bottle and passed out in less than an hour so I put him down- light weight.

SOC

Anyway, I still have a little Fernet Branca in my glass so I figured I’d drop a line since I have to work the next few days and by the time I decide to write again Arlo will be flipping me the bird on his way out to college or something.

I gotta come clean though, Arlo wasn’t wearing that onesie tonight (Straight Outta NICU). That pic was taken over a month ago. I don’t even think he fits in that onesie anymore. BUT– It is now 2:27 am, we did watch Straight Outta Compton tonight, and Arlo did get milk drunk and pass out, and I am sipping on some Fernet Branca.

Now that I have set the scene… Sorry it’s been a while! We’ve been having a wonderful time though. I can’t say it’s been story worthy though… Lots of milk drinking and a whole lot of pooping. That means a lot of sitting around feeding, and a lot of changing out dirty diapers. That’s my whole story. Good one, huh?

I can’t really say anything super interesting has happened- well, what you would find super interesting, but I guess here are some things…

  • Today we switched Arlo to cloth diapers (he’s finally physically big enough for them) I know, we thought about having a party for him to celebrate the achievement but we’re just not those kind of people

Wow, I feel like there were a lot more things to talk about but now I don’t know, every time I start writing something down I realize how boring it probably is for you to read….

  • One night Kylie walked into the living room and yelled at Arlo and I for being too loud. We woke her up while she was trying to sleep. I blame his loud toots but Kylie says I was yelling “Wwwwweeeeeeeeeee!” too loud. (Boys will be boys- am I right?)

I guess that’s it for my list of mildly interesting things that have been happening…

Remember when I said he doesn’t cry? Well fuck me, he does now. But not a lot though, he cries just enough for me to have to admit that he does. And he’s not an asshole about it- yet- but he likes us to know when he wants us to know something. Soooo… chalk that one up for progressive communication skills?

Speaking of communication skills- he still doesn’t have a definitive smile- or “coo” like babies do- what’s up with that? We get some crying but no smiling? Sure, his face contorts to all sorts of shapes and some resemble a smile, but he doesn’t do it on purpose- he doesn’t light up when I walk into a room (like his mom does). What is definite and very purposeful is his resting bitch face- this kid (unfortunately) takes after his Papa and just gazes intently with furled eyebrows and a facial expression that says, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sorry kid.

What else? Hmmm… He’s going to be two months old tomorrow… so that’s cool. We were going to have a party for him, but again, we are just not those kind of people.

Oh! Oh! I know! Pick me!! Arlo’s cousin was born! A week ago. I won’t go into the details (because I wasn’t there (and it’s not my story)) but his cousin Parker is here now. Mama, Papa, and baby Parker are doing just fine and are settling in at home. Arlo and Parker have hung out a few times in the last week but I was always working so I never got to see the ruckus- but I did get to see them hang out tonight. I’d show you a picture but I forgot to get permission. But maybe I can describe what it looks like…

Ehh, never mind, I was going to paint you a beautiful picture with my words but I’m too tired. Just imagine one baby with an oversized trucker double chin and the other with oversized clown hands laying next to each other with no interest in each other whatsoever. Sure, there is a lot of cooing and smiling but all of that is coming from the mothers and fathers standing above who have been waiting for this moment since last October. (…Sigh…)

UPDATE! I got permission! Here ya go…

Worm

I was walking around downtown today and I saw a little toddler break free from his parents and book it. He made it about six yards before he toddled flat on his face. It was at that moment I realized why I haven’t written anything lately- it’s because Arlo isn’t quite that entertaining to write about yet because basically he’s just a glorified worm.

The fleeing toddler toddled. He was fun to watch. Arlo? He just lays there. Sure, he grunts- he squeals- sometimes you think the squeal will turn into a cry- but it never does- he also makes a new creepy alien chirpy sound- and he still makes funny fart noises out of his butt and mouth. So, yeah, if you are looking for audio entertainment, he’s your man.

I mean I guess he’s visually relatable though. He has two arms, two legs, twenty fingers and toes like all of us (and they are all super tiny and adorable mind you). Sometimes he smiles a big gummy smile after a big toot. But he doesn’t do much else. In fact, yesterday I laid him down in the garden next to a big earthworm and started watching both of them. For a moment I forgot about Arlo and I just watched that earthworm lead his fascinating life.

  • I just looked up a fun fact about earthworms so your time at this website wasn’t wasted… Did you know the largest earthworm ever found was 22 feet long, “from it’s nose to the tip of it’s tail!” To that I replied in my head, earthworms don’t have noses you stupid internet!

But yeah, if you were wondering what’s going on in this neck of the woods right now, that’s it. He eats, sleeps, poops, toots, sleeps, eats, poops, toots, sleeps- put those actions in your iPod and press shuffle/repeat all and you’ll figure out why I haven’t written too much lately.

Arlo did have his one month birthday yesterday. Hooray! But developmentally he’s negative two weeks old because he’s not even supposed to be born yet. But good for him! He’s a real go getter! A week ago he weighed 6 lbs. That’s pretty awesome in my book. He’s supposed to go back for a weigh in tomorrow so we’ll see how well he’s pushing those lbs. I assume he’s gaining weight because last night (in the middle of the night) I went to pick him up and he seemed HUGE! Moments later though I realized I also had my pants on backwards, so go figure.

We’ve had him home for two weeks now and and I’m not going to lie, it’s still a little weird. An unexplainable weirdness though- weird like I know he’s mine, but I keep waiting for his parents to stop by to pick him up and take him home. Weird like sometimes he still startles me when I walk into a room not expecting to see a baby. Weird like sometimes we’ll be in the same room and I just plain forget he is there. Weird like I feel like I’m just acting like a dad, in the same way I feel like I’m just acting like an adult.

Weird like he should still be in Kylie’s belly, but if he was, it would even be weirder.

 

 

***update***

10 Oz. The fatty gained 10 Oz in a week!

Roommate

Guess what? Arlo is out of the NICU. We are out of the hospital. We are home! And all of a sudden Kylie and I have a new roommate.

He broke his way out of the halfway house on Mother’s Day. It was the best gift he could give his mama- he made my gift of a plant look like a dead tree branch. His last hurdle was passing a “carseat test”. It’s recommended for all newborns that have been born before thirty-seven weeks gestation. The “test” involved him having to hang out strapped in his carseat for ninety minutes without his stats dropping below certain levels for too long. Kylie went for a walk during it as she was stressed beyond belief (he had failed the day before). I decided to stay in the room with him and read.

I didn’t read a lick though. I stared at his monitor and watched three different waves and four different numbers go up and down and dip and rise. Ninety minutes. Ninety minutes of stress. Ninety minutes of me coming up with impromptu superstitions… Oh! his stats just went up- I have to keep my left leg crossed over my right- Oh shit! Oxygen level dropped- take another sip of Le Croix- OOooo! Back up now- Okay, a sip of Le Croix every time oxygen saturation dips to 87- Everythings working, don’t move… Big DROP- Fuck! Sing- sing- sing to him- Let’s swim to the moon… Okay, back up, super stable, don’t move a muscle. I did this for ninety minutes. I’ve never come so close to literally pissing my pants. But his stats didn’t dip for too long, and he passed.

Immediately we packed our stuff and headed home. We pulled into our driveway and realized we had to unpack two weeks worth of hospital accumulation. We brought him in first and we looked at each other, “So…. what do we do? I mean, where do we put him?” We had had over two weeks of unofficial baby training in the hospital- but at the hospital there were specific and defined places to put him- like a bassinet- and besides, in the hospital his mobility was limited to the length of his wires and tubes. But we were home now, and this kid was wireless. If I wanted, I could have set him on top of the refrigerator and there wouldn’t have been a nurse around to bat an eye. But I knew if I did something like that for a cheap chuckle, Kylie probably would have taken a bat to my eye.

It’s funny though, we had bought or been given a handful of baby holder things- but suddenly I was too afraid to put him in one because I didn’t know if they were safe for a premie. I mean, it seemed a carseat barely was! So we decided we would look at all the safety precautions for premies for each specific apparatus that we had for him before we set him in anything. So at that moment, with a car to unpack and a life to get started, we put a blanket on the floor, and Arlo on the blanket, and that’s where he hung out his first hour at home.

Since then, we have been figuring it out, and we have figured out one thing for sure… He runs the show- he’s a pretty loud and selfish roommate whom I would probably call an asshole if he wasn’t so damn cute.  He doesn’t care to wait for his hospital feed schedule anymore- he wants it when he wants it and knows he’s gonna get it. I feel like all I do is wash his dishes and wipe his ass. I even cook his meals! If warming a bottle of breastmilk can be considered cooking (I guess Kylie actually makes his meals). And to top it all off, his favorite time to poop is anytime I’m holding him. But he does seem to be quite the happy little camper though- so far he almost never cries (I will regret writing that line I’m sure)- although he did cry out at me last night when I decided to relieve my bladder before relieving his hunger pangs- my bad buddy.

We’ve had only one major surprise with him since bringing him home- he’s a terribly loud sleeper! Different sounds all night! Seriously. Here is a visual list of what I imagine is actually in his little sleep rocker at night…

 

Sometimes I hear a cute little Mogwai…

 

mogwai

 

And sometimes an insatiable Gremlin…

 

gremlin cue

 

There’s always a baby hippo snort or two…

 

hippo

 

But those change to Ferris Bueller’s deafening dummy snores…

 

sleep dummy

 

And then to just some heavy grampa breathing…

 

grandpa

 

But there are always many toots sprinkled in- actually, Kylie calls them toots because she thinks it’s cuter that way, but this little guy gets the Fat Bastard award because he really is on that level with his “toots”…

 

Fat Bastard

 

And when he’s not tooting up a storm, I hear his hands moving around and imagine this guy laying there…

 

moor der

 

But whatever sounds I hear coming from where he sleeps, and every time I check on him, he always looks like this…

 

dreamer

Welcome home Arlo Ray