Father's Day

I suppose this post is coming a bit late, but better late than never. I have been wanting to write a little something about Daddy's Day for a while, but the whole sickness thing kind of derailed plans a bit.

When I woke up on Father's Day, it hadn't really sunk in that there was a new day to celebrate me and the things I do. I'm a dad now. How sweet is that? I got all reflective and mooshy that day and thought a lot about what the past 9 months (and the 9 before that:) had meant to me. Max is such a treat - calm, cheeky, mysterious, nimble, healthy, cute and awe-inspiring. A lot of positives (and even if I did have negatives to say, I wouldn't put them where he could read them in a few years - ha ha!!).

Max and Mommy treated me to a nice breakfast at Cora's, a primarily Ontario/Quebec brekkie-type place that puts a lot of emphasis on fresh fruit. It was really lovely. And kind of cool to look around the restaurant and see all of the other fathers getting taken out for their special days. It really made me feel like part of the club. See that guy over there? I've experienced some of the things he has. Totally cool. Things like that make me think a lot about my dad and where his mind might have been when he was my age. I'm in his club too now . . . (although now, I suppose he has silver status).

When we got home, we rested a bit and then packed up to go wander the streets of Westfest - a neighbourhood party that takes place all along Richmond, a street a few blocks from here. We showed up in time to catch a breakdancing expo and then
got caught in a massive downpour. We hung out under an awning for 20 minutes or so, waiting for it to pass. Max got a little wet, though, and was rocking some serious hair (pictured here). We grabbed some yummy Mexican food (well, Holly and I did. Max had stuff from a jar) where we heard a waitress describe mole sauce as "you kind of have to try it - it's really different. The people who like it, love it!". Yikes. Some ingredients please? While we were eating, another wave of rain hit. We tried to wait it out, but in the end just decided to walk home and get wet.

It was a great way to spend Father's day - time with my family, yummy food and good stories. Thanks to Holly and Max for making it happen! I want to share one last thing with you - some videos taken during our trip home from Cora's. It was windy in the car, Max's hair was awesome and the little guy was pretty tired. What a perfect storm of things to capture on video:

Table of contents:
1) Max loving the feel of the open road.
2) Max trying to sleep but giving one last mug for the camera.
3) Max alllmmmmoooost asleep but a car horn wakes him; Max takes swing at paparazzo.
4) Max passed out.
5) Dad having some fun at comatose Max's expense. Warning: uptight people might disapprove of the content of this video.

BLLEEEUGUUUUGHHH!

I'm not sure how it's actually spelled, but that's pretty close.

So the three of us were out on the town last night to celebrate a friend's birthday. Heck, Holly wore a skirt and makeup for the first time in Max's *entire* existence. She looked pretty good too. We were at a hip little restaurant and had ordered some pretty yummy-sounding meals when Max started to get fussy. I took him for a walk outside and he calmed right down, staring at the people and traffic like he normally does. We got back to the restaurant and set him up in his high chair to feed. I handed him half a Baby Mum-Mum rice cracker as an appetizer and as he was bringing it up to his mouth, he let out the most amazing stream of vomit we had ever seen. I mean, all we could do was stare. "How much does this baby hold?" was running through my mind.

When Max was younger, he spat up what seemed like a lot to us. Other people were always telling us he spat up a lot. So we were always checking the baby books to see what the "worry" threshold was. It seems that spitting up is OK until it becomes projectile. So, often, when Max would have his little spit-ups, we'd ask ourselves "was that projectile? What about that one?". Well, now we know. The restaurant was certainly projectile.

I whisked him away from the party (sadly - I was enjoying myself!), which was good because he lit up his car seat on the way home. Poor guy. So into the tub we went. We chilled for a while and then I gave him some apple sauce and a bottle on his way to sleep. We're not sure if it was some of the food he had (he had had a bunch of egg yolk hat lunch, so it's on probation, and some kidney beans the night before . . . and we've been suspicious of those for a while) or, as some of our reading turned up, the ingestion of "the infected secretions of a sore throat" (bleck), which fits the fact that he's been rolling with a pretty good cough since Thursday.

He's really working his way through the Baby Sickness 101 textbook this week (fever, rash, vomit, hacking cough), but we're super lucky to have made it this far without a real illness. I can only imagine how differently we would be handling this if he was only 1 or 2 months old. I think we run on some basic assumptions about his ability to recover from things (read: falls, sickness) that reduce the worry factor regarding things like throwing up and fevers that are high, but not too high. We just believe that he'll cry a bit then realize everything's cool, roll over and then look for the next coffee table to climb, with a smile on his face.

Max vs. Bubbles: A Photo Essay

The funniest thing was how he closed his eyes when the bubbles got really close, as displayed in the first photo.

In case you were wondering, Max is indeed standing by himself at the coffee table. We are going to have a real monkey on our hands.

I can't wait to get outside and blow some serious bubbles for this guy - although that bubble in photo three is pretty awesome.

An addendum of sorts

So it seems that my awesomeness was slightly overblown yesterday. At least in the dimension of being a baby whisperer. In the end, Max was lights out for 130 minutes, which in itself was pretty rocking. When I went to collect him, he was nice and toasty. I figured his heat was from being in the sun or under some sheets. It is summer, after all. I figured that kind of sleep would put him in the best mood. (editor's note: it's impossible to type a buzzer sound). He was cranky and didn't really feel like playing or crawling, just hanging on to mom and dad. I chalked that up to weirdness - not typical behaviour for Max.

So the bunch of us celebrated the first sunny Ottawa day in 4eva with a nice walk around the Market. Max drifted in and out of sleep in the stroller so the crankiness wasn't quite as evident anymore. But when I hauled him out of his car seat at home, he was on fire. Not literally, but you know . . . I took his temperature and he was a hearty 38.4 under the armpit, so not good. 9.5 months in and dude had himself his first good fever. Thankfully, our friend J is a calming influence and very knowledgeable about babes and Grandma H had a (long) lifetime of experience to draw upon. We hit Max with a shot of Tylenol, which worked pretty well at bringing the heat down.

His appetite was still in good shape and he got back to sleep OK, but it was slightly restless and featured some good moans. Eventually, he got up at 3 a.m. full of fever again. Out came the Tylenol again. This time, Max wasn't so interested in returning to sleep, so I threw him in the ring sling and had a little predawn tour of the neighbourhood. To help cool him off, I kept him in a diaper only. Yeah, we looked a little goofy, but he was comfortable and enjoyed looking at the porch lights and the occasional passing car. He conked out after a while and we got home about -30 seconds before it started to spit, but the drizzle didn't wake up Mr. Max.

P.S. When he woke up in the morning, the fever was gone and didn't return. He picked himself up a good rash on his legs primarily. From what we'd read, fevers are often caused by untreatable viruses that happen to also cause rashes, so this was no surprise. However, after talking to a few more parents, our best guess seems to be that he had an allergic reaction to something. Saturday, we had popped some sunscreen on his legs for the first time, so this fits. In any case, he's not bothered by it and is as pleasant as he's always been (see the next post for some visual evidence).

Here's feverish Max, playing like nothing's wrong at all...

Eureka

Mark it in your calendars, I got Max to nap, in a bed without being fed. I believe that might be a first. The nap is only 10 minutes old, but I'm pretty proud of myself right now. Here's the evidence:




It's been a really good weekend so far. Yesterday, Max's Winnipeg grandma had a stopover at the airport so we got to visit over wings and Coke. We had a great time catching up and reacquainting Max with some of his Western family! Later that night, we picked up our good friend J from the train station - she was in town from Toronto for a weekend visit. Max wanted to hang out with J so much last night that he didn't admit that he wanted to sleep until after 10 pm. Boo. But yay at the same time.

It had been a while since my mother and our friend had seen Max and it's not like they're getting a lot of info via our shabby thrice monthly blog. In any case, it's been wonderful listening to how many changes they see in Max since their last visits. We often don't take note of a lot of these things because we see him on a daily basis. But, now that I think about it he does look a lot more like a little boy and less like a baby. And he's a total monkey when it comes to scaling things. Coffeetables. His crib railing. Highchairs. Legs. Shelves. Dude can't crawl properly, but it looks like standing isn't going to be an issue.

So, to wrap up this entry, I have to say that earlier today, before the whole nap thing, I thought the front page, 72-point headline was going to be about Max's swim class today. It was Survivor day and swimmers were supposed to hit the pool fully dressed (because when bad things happen around water, you're not usually wearing swim trunks - makes sense). So Max and Dad went swimming in all of their duds. That, combined with the fact that the pool might have been warmer than ever today, made for a great swim day for Max. He went underwater. He wore a lifejacket. He actually got to be the wolf in "What Time is it Mr. Wolf?" Cry factor: about 15%. The highlight was either during "If You're Happy and You Know it...do a starfish float on your front", when Max totally took it like a man, or in the warm pool after class when Max cracked his first ever smile within 100m of the pool facilities. Needless to say, in preparation for his next swim class, we will be investing in a body-length swim suit. Clearly the warmer he is in the water, the happier he is. I guess he got my genes when it comes to a general hatred of cold.

So I'll leave it there, except to say that Max is still pleasantly napping 50 minutes later. I am awesome.

Here are some pictures:

Nine months . . .

To my dearest Max,

Happy nine month birthday, my boy. Apparently, nines are going to be lucky in your life so we should take every chance to celebrate them. It is so hard to believe that you have been "out" for almost as long as you were "in". It seems like the nine months that you were "in" went so much slower than these last nine months, even though everyone was so anxious to meet you. Sometimes, I have a hard time remembering what life was like before you came into this world.

For all of the times in the very early days when I cursed and wished for the time to pass and you to get a bit bigger so your dad and I could get some of our sanity back, I'm wishing for the reverse these days. You are such a joy to be around. I am really enjoying your company as we embark on our daily adventures.

You are doing so many wild and wonderful things, from adventure crawling everywhere to sticking your tongue out to soothing yourself back to sleep at night. I can actually see your little gears turning these days as you learn and adapt to new situations. You are learning to feed yourself and I love how much you have learned in only two attempts. You are standing for prolonged periods. It is crazy to think that you might be walking near the end of the summer.

Although I am very much looking forward to our late summer time and adventures with your crazy dad, it makes me sad to think that I only have six more weeks of just you and me time. I am going to try my best not to dwell on the days that I lost with you early on when this motherhood thing hit me like a Mack truck and really enjoy this summer with you.

I love you oceans, Max Julian Stardom. My heart is full of love and you are the most important person in my life. Just don't tell your dad, OK?

Love and hugs,
Mum

Blah blah blah zzz?

Friday night, Max was in the midst of his first night of warm awakeness - I had to take him for an 11:00 walk around the neighbourhood and he even managed to stay awake for 45 minutes of that. After we got back, I was somehow able to pry him out of the sling and get him into his crib without waking him up. 20 minutes later though: loud crying. I told Holly "Forget it! I am not going back in there - he can figure this one out". Not our standard approach. I actually felt kind of mean. But there we were in bed, listening. I wish I had a sound recording, but this will have to do:
"HIC HIC HIC...WAAAAAAAAAAAAH" (Pause)
"HIC HIC...WAAAAAAAAAAAAH" (Pause)
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAH WAAAAAAAAAAAAH" (Long pause)
"HIC HIC HIC HIC...WAAAAAAAAAAAAH" (Pause)
"HIC HIC HIC...WAAAAAAAAAAAAH" (Pause)
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAH WAAAAAAAAAAAAH" (Pause)
"HIC HIC HIC...WAAAAAAAAAAAAH" (Pause)
"BLAH BLah Blah blah..."

Silence.

This baby does not get himself back to sleep on his own. Ever. So to hear him shift from 60 to 0 via self-babbling was pretty awesome. He didn't get up again until sunrise. Sometimes he amazes me. Like all the time.

Three for the price of one

So two Thursdays ago, Holly decided to take Max with her on a weekend getaway with Great Auntie M to Peterborough for the Morrison family reunion. Friday morning, Max came down with the sniffles and we debated whether or not he should still go. Holly felt that it was important for both of them to go, so off they went. (*Apparently, a great weekend was had by all...but I'll leave it to Holly to blog the details herself) I did a bit of housework on the Saturday and Sunday, and even got to catch up with some friends at lunch on Sunday (yay Wii and ribs at the Screids!). I used Sunday night to do some cooking (both food for adults and for babies) and called both of my folks. Over the course of call #1, I felt my throat getting scratchy. . . over the course of call #2, it got worse and I knew I was getting sick. Now quite familiar with two-day incubation periods, I figured I had picked up what Max caught. I took the next day off work and cocooned myself in the basement, waiting for my family to get home. When Holly arrived, I lumbered upstairs to find that she had also come down with Max's cold Sunday night. So there we were. All three of us simultaneously sick for the first time. I ended up missing three days of work. We took shifts hanging out with Max. We did not take shifts hacking, sniffling and feeling sorry for ourselves - that was a constant. Of course Max got better first. Just now are Holly and I starting to feel 80% again. Come to think of it, I kind of prefer everyone being sick at the same time to an illness bouncing back and forth between the lot of us - at least this is over faster.

What else did we get up to this week? We went to play Ultimate again later Thursday. It's been really nice of Max's grandma and Great Auntie K to babysit once a week so that we don't have to worry about exposing Max to mosquito madness at these rural muggy swamps. Also, two weeks back, Max's auntie L babysat so that Mom and Dad could have their first date in months and months. We went to go see Iron Man - a good way to spend an evening. Was it our first film of 2008? I think so. Thanks!

Swimming was actually a lot better this week. The last time I took Max swimming, I had the idea of bringing one of his favourite bath toys. Too bad we were a little late and we had to rush the getting changed portion of our program and I left it in my shorts pocket. Then, Holly put this plan into action for her Aquafit class and it seemed to distract Max quite a bit. So this Saturday, we set off for swim class with his little fishies and I did not forget them this time. Max started off as per usual - crying through getting his hair wet, half of the jumps off the side and then all of the starfish practices on the floating foam rafts. But then, silence and fishies-chewing throughout all of What time is it Mr. Wolf? and The Grand Old Duke of York. Seriously. So the cry factor plummeted this week to about 55%. While chatting with the instructor in the warm pool after the fact, Max fell over from his seat in the pool and fell in the water, but after the water cleared from his face, he was perfectly fine. Just maybe, over the last two weeks of the class, little dude will have a whole class without crying. Unlikely, but just maybe.

After swim class, we were invited out to Great Auntie K's cottage to celebrate Grandma Heath's 55th birthday (woo-hoo golden plate discounts!). Max dodged most of the black flies (they were all biting his grandma), enjoyed his first summer view of the lake (no WAY we were going for a swim with him but Holly made it in the water for a brief dip), visited with the neighbour, and enjoyed some fresh Quebecois air. Saturday was capped with a huge gourmet birthday meal of king crab. We had a great time so a big thanks to our hostess with the mostess!!

Now, we're in the process of waiting for the little monsieur to adjust to the heat. Apparently, "32 degrees, feels like 41" has the effect of shifting his bedtime back a couple of hours. It is currently 9:40 pm and he is happily playing on his blanket in the living room and we're both yawning like crazy. Great. All that time to work his bedtime back so we could have a little "us" time in the evening... RECLAIMED!! There is a good chance that we might not make it past the pilot episode of Battlestar Galactica for the next few days at least. We refuse to move his crib into our room to combat the heat (we're the ones with the air-conditioning unit)... that's too much regression for one month.

So things are plugging along. After the positive feedback from the frog video, here's another one of Max giggling. Enjoy.