Cookies, not nookies.

Valentine’s Day was fun. Not in that special, romantic, dim-the-lights-with-some-Marvin-Gaye kind of way, but in the what-do-we-do-now-that-we-have-a-kid kind of way. What made it even cooler is that it’s an anniversary of sorts – the day that Felix was conceived (maybe). Potentially. I mean, his original due date was November 9th, so subtract 40 weeks from that date and you come up with. . .February 14th.

Maybe it was those scallops last year. I tried again, with a home-style crab-bake this year, which lacked a little bit of the sultry romance of some perfectly cooked scallops but was still delicious in its own right. A little artichoke starter, some corn, three dipping sauces. . .yes, the perfect prelude to a night of feeding Mr. Felix and falling asleep at 9:15pm.

I think he’s hungry dreaming of this crab:

But seriously, this kid just keeps bringing us love in bushels. Check it out, we were able to get him to sit up (okay, make him sit up, but still):

And the Mexican side is coming out a little bit:

  

All told, he’s developing insanely fast. Every day he’s more aware, and making strides observationally and capability-wise. We checked the BabyCenter checklist recently and the only thing he’s ‘not’ doing is reaching for objects. He can grab like a champion, his head control is great and he’s sleeping in about three hour increments. Also, he’s super verbal – which I love, and has the wife dreading the fact that he may be a perpetual talker like his dad. So we’re (mostly) happier at night and more aware during the day. Valentine’s Day, however, was just another day of love – just not that kind of love. I can say this: Felix will likely not be having a brother or sister on November 1st of this year.

flying solo

100 Days of Felix

Felix turns 100 today – 100 days, that is.

I don’t know if I read this, heard this, or made it up, but I believe that some cultures (Korean?) consider the first 100 days sacrosanct. Historical survival rates were not what they are today, and the milestone was celebrated symbolically with the representation of 100 days being a springboard for 100 years. Longevity, health and best wishes are tantamount in this instance and a celebration would ensue. This is my interpretation or (mis?)remembrance, at least.

In our case, we will lavish Felix with breast milk, a good story or two, a few walks around the neighborhood and some champagne. Well, Felix won’t be having the champagne, but this definitely is reason to pop some bubbly.

As far as we can tell, his development has been great thus far – he rolled over for the first time last week, he’s actively grabbing and holding his pacifier, his verbal range is hilariously vast and he’s growing out of his 3-month old clothes, at least height-wise.

His weight is on the low side, however; he was 10 pounds, 8 ounces at his recent weigh-in by our lactation consultant. We knew he was slim at the two-month check up, as he was in the 12th percentile, but our pediatrician told us that the weight was not a concern. As long as his bowel movements are normal & consistent – they are – and his development otherwise seems normal (it does), we shouldn’t worry. So I try to enjoy him and laugh when people tell us how long & lean he is.

They also tell us how much hair he has. I mean, constantly. Instead of the cliche “he’s so cute” that people give babies, we get the “he has so much hair” or “is it a girl” or “wow, what a head of hair” all the time. It’s kind of funny, because both parents have thick, curly hair and we always used to half-joke about our child being a werewolf, just covered in hair head-to-toe. He’s not quite there, but he does have quite the coif. I have this theory that he has so much hair now because his mom’s father is bald, and one of the first things we learned about genealogy is that the ‘hair gene’ comes from your mother’s father. So basically, he has it now because he won’t later. Hopefully that’s not the case, but makes for a compellingly funny story as it stands now.

And apparently a lot of things are compellingly funny to this little dude, because he’s always laughing. I love it. It melts my heart, and I hope he stays happy and laughing until he’s 100 years old. He’s quite a ways away, but 100 days is something – and we’re proud and happy that he’s made it this far, and we can’t wait to see what the next 100 days have to offer.

A Good Place to Work.

I am fortunate in that I am very close in proximity to Felix during my work day. My office is located 3.1 miles and eight floors up from our home. It’s an 11-minute commute most days, though with L.A. traffic – even on suburban streets – it’s been as long as a 41-minute drive. That is still a true pleasure considering I worked in El Segundo and Santa Monica for more than five years.

me & Felix Bae

I often think back to what I would do if I still had to spend upwards of 2.5 hours per day in the car. It was miserable then, and it would be downright tragic at this point – Felix wakes up around 7am and goes to sleep around 730pm; I’d get to see him for an hour, tops, per day.

We had brunch this past weekend with a couple whose husband works in Century City – they live in Woodland Hills – and daughter is just over a year old. He lamented the lack of time with their child, and urged how important weekends are to the family. That could be me, and who knows what the future holds – it may be me again down the road. But until then, I’ll do my damndest to ensure that I’m physically present for Felix’s development as much as possible.

My father had a flexible schedule as well – he was at my school events, my ballgames; he’d help with my homework, he made me breakfast. . .and I truly appreciate now how amazing that really is because real life circumstances generally dictate something less than the ideal. I really believe that gave me both the support I needed to be confident – just knowing that he was there for me instilled the willingness to fail necessary to have the ability to be great.

pops & Felix

I know that sounds corny, but the old “you never know unless you try” theory was a mantra of mine while growing up. From winning a poetry contest in elementary school (Casey at the Bat) to writing letters directly to pro baseball players asking for autographs (thank you, Don Mattingly) to applying solely for the three universities I’d be willing to attend (eg no ‘fallbacks’), to trying out for the baseball team at UCLA (four times), to asking the CEO directly, in his office, for a raise at my first real job (“get back to your desk until you bring me some numbers to back it up”), I think that knowing my father was always there with encouragement and a baseball glove regardless of the circumstances and outcomes really enabled me to try. And trying is the most important aspect of life, really.

I would love to mirror that flexibility and instill the same confidence in Felix. Hopefully my career continues along the same path (literally, in a geographical sense) and I can be close to Felix whenever he needs or wants to see his father. Being able to spend quality time with my son every day is something I am very thankful for and will always appreciate, and every day I know that I really am in a Good Place.

The First Checkup.

At Felix’s first serious postpartum checkup, he was to have two major milestones:

1) formal measurement

-and-

2) vaccinations.

I’ll start with the second item, because that is an issue that’s been at the forefront of raising a newborn in the past decade thanks to a certain celebrity whose belief in pseudoscience triggered an alarming danger to our children and society at large with the misguided belief that vaccinations cause autism. This not only proved not to be the case, but not even the affliction of her child, who was actually cleared of the autism diagnosis a few years after she wrote an aggressive book and campaigned internationally on behalf of her “cause.”

I’ve always been a firm believer in vaccinations for, well, obvious reasons. In addition to the fact that they are effective and protective, it was pretty much a no-brainer for me and my wife. The only hesitation we really had was watching Felix indoor two separate needle pricks while gaining his first layers of antibodies. Both fortunately and unfortunately, these were not his first experiences with needles as he needed to be tested for jaundice on back-to-back days once we returned home from the hospital. Accordingly, we psyched ourselves into believing that he was more prepared, which for a nine-week old baby is probably not the case. But I guess you can say that that’s our version of pseudoscience and it helped us with the follow-through. Felix took the shots relatively well, crying and screaming for only a limited time before my wife was able to breast-feed and enable him to forget about the shock of injection.

We were warned that he may show flu symptoms for the next couple days so our pediatrician advised that we keep an eye on him and his temperature. Everything appeared great until about 7 PM that evening when he cried and screamed in agony that we’ve never heard. Our doctor and her staff had alerted us to purchase liquid Infants’ Tylenol (acetaminophen) Should this occur, so I hustled over to Walgreens, ransacked the medicine I’ll, headed home and administered the first drops of non-breastmilk that Felix had ever consumed. Or so I thought; my wife reminded me that we had been giving him vitamin D drops every morning since she left the hospital. Apparently breastmilk, for all of it’s nutritious splendor, is missing solely that vitamin – probably a result of the fact that babies historically received enough sun to not need the supplement. Overprotective modern society – that’s a point for you, Jenny McCarthy! – has caused the pendulum to swing this way, and thus we administer. Within an hour, Felix was back to his normal self and that was the sole dose that he had to ingest.

Now the other anticipated milestone of the visit with the measurements. At least anticipated by me; my wife does not pay them too much heed, and good thing – Felix his length was in the 60th percentile, but his weight was in the 10-to-12% range. At nine weeks old, he weighed out to 9 pounds and 15 ounces. To put that in perspective, his cousin, the son of my wife’s sister, weighted more than that upon birth.

First and foremost, I must say that Felix is very healthy in every other regard, and our pediatrician told us as much. She said that she is not overly concerned as the percentiles are very rough and subject to large variations at this age – her quote was “I don’t even begin looking at the percentiles until the child is two years old. I’ve seen small babies become large  adults. I’ve seen large babies become average size adults.” The important thing at this point is that his bowel movements are regular, his demeanor is normal and that he is eating with regularity. Check, check and check – so we moved on and noted that we will do our best to feed as much as he wants, which is still every two hours.

The most exciting element right now – at 11 weeks – is that Felix is making progress now and it’s starting to get fun. I mean, it was fun since day one if your definition of fun is constant fear, anxiety & fear of failure. But now there’s responsiveness and consistent alertness. He’s grabbing, gripping, reaching, smiling, verbalizing, almost laughing and following us with his eyes. Additionally, he recognizes our respective voices to the point that he’ll turn his head toward the sound when either of us walks into the room while speaking. Good stuff, and super cute – he’s definitely more of a human by the day. And even at night, he only awakens twice (maybe three) so our sleep pattern has become more consistent.

We were even able to celebrate our 8th wedding anniversary with a night away from Felix – rawr? no, more like xxnnaaa shoo – during a staycation at the Ace Hotel in DTLA. It was fun, but it really was more rewarding to come back home to our baby. We know that the real action is starting now, and we don’t want to miss more than we need to; especially now that Felix Bae is turning into Felix Plae.

Happy New Baby

“Happy New Baby!”

This is already Felix’s second calendar year in only his 60th day of life. I enjoy stats like that. Another stat – this one that I’m not so enamored with – is 3. That’s how many drinks I had last night. On New Year’s Eve. The time they are a-changin’. It was rewarding to be with Felix, however. As Irene says, he can’t even see his hand much less know our names so there is no chance that he had any idea that it was New Year’s Eve or what NYE even is – but he stayed awake right through the time we left Jonathan and Angeline’s at 12:30 AM.

It was special indeed, Felix’s first New Year’s Eve,  And it was also low-key. Irene and I didn’t do low-key for the first seven years of our marriage. Every event was an opportunity to spend our vespertine hours with friends, venture into the unknown and quite frankly imbibe until the sun came out again. Luckily, we had 2013 to acclimate but a complete lifestyle overhaul does not come easily. The dogs were our first definitive shift of priorities and responsibility level but this is an entire new social planet. Even when Irene is occupying Felix and I have a couple drinks, I stop right there. The second I start feeling buzz the second I start feeling hyperaware and guilty. “Thou shalt not inebriate thyself around the baby.”

Which made New Year’s Eve very, how shall I say, unique this year. I know things will progress more towards a new normal but for now it was pretty funny and how staid everything was. I guess the fact that I am clearheaded and alert enough to begin working on this  post at 9 AM is enough of an indication as to our level wildness these days.

And speaking of wild, Felix is definitely coming alive. Smiles are more frequent, laughs more defined and his eyes are starting to track objects; namely, himself in the mirror. It’s pretty cool when he’s on his swing just giggling at the reflection of himself under the mobile. Irene constantly wonders what he is thinking, and it’s beginning to be evident that he really is developing that brain of his.

I have an unhealthy obsession with his stimulation, though. At least, I think it’s unhealthy – it comes from the proverbial ‘good place,’ but maybe he needs to relax and maybe I need to relax. We have our eight-week appointment on Monday, so we’ll find out what the doctor says.

Perhaps it’s his primo, Max, that’s causing me this undue burden. Irene’s sister, Gaby, has a beautiful, 20-month old that is just now really developing personality – getting into that wonderful, precocious mischief that toddlers are prone to get into, and talking and walking and running and falling and smiling and asking questions and holding his own bottle and recognizing when he poops and. . .well, I don’t want to rush it but it’s difficult to contain my expectations and hopes when I’m exposed to this elder child so frequently.

I enjoy each moment with Felix – but I “can’t wait” until he’s old enough to recognize and respond and react. I’m so damn excited. But I know that these moments are precious as well, so we make sure these moments are appreciated as well.

I will say this – the holidays have now given a whole new meaning to the word ‘awesome.’ When I saw Irene’s grandparents get to see their great grandson for the first time, it was incredible. The entire family was smitten, and from a selfish perspective – I was truly able to enjoy the spirit of Christmas. We really ended up having a good time with all of the relatives and as corny as that sounds – isn’t that what the Holidays are for?

Now on to the New Year, where Felix will hopefully crawl, eat solids, walk, and maybe even utter a few words. There I go with the expectations again. But let’s hope it really is a Happy New Baby and a Happy New Year, 2014.

The Newborn Wall

I’d like to think my first month was reality, setting the tone for a demanding-yet-manageable infancy. I’m realizing more that it was a honeymoon. As the clock struck midnight on Cinderella, the calendar turned to December and Felix began getting fussy. Not typical, baby-deer-crying-kind-of-cute style, but whered-he-get-that-lung-strength-shit-i-better-go-check-on-him-now style. Multiple times per night. For hours. EVERY night.

I tell myself that this is not only my New Normal, but Normal for every new parent. Everybody’s Normal is different, as I find out with every google search. What is Colic? How long can babies cry safely? How long can I go with 1.5 hours sleep per night? The answers range from “your baby is perfectly normal” to “RUSH to the hospital IMMEDIATELY” for each query. I like to think the reputable sites are the .gov, .org or .edu, but the message boards contain just as many useful anecdotes as the nonprofit domains contain conflicting advice. So onward we go, learning on the fly & realizing that parent organisms have been raising child organisms for the past googol or so years.

One thing that’s been especially difficult, and exacerbated in the last two weeks, is the overwhelming demand on Felix’s mother. The physical, mental & emotional toll of breastfeeding 10+ times per day while trying to resume her interior design practice has been overwhelming to watch. I truly sympathize with her, and owe her the world for being able to withstand the pain, discomfort and hormonal overload that comes with being a newborn’s mother. I can’t do justice to her other than to say that I truly admire her strength and that I’m proud of her for doing such a great job. She wrote about it here in heartfelt fashion, I’ve already seen the catharsis of sharing her story assist in helping her get stronger by the day.

It’s not all hazy mornings and exhausting nights, though. Felix is starting to smile – or is that gas? – And he’s up to 9 pounds, having gained a full pound in the last 16 days. He still has a full head of hair that the chicks love and is starting to fill out some of his features and look more decidedly humanlike. Also, I must admit that there was a kindred, manpride when he had his first diaper “blowout.” I immediately texted my high school buddies now have sons received equally cheerful texts. Too much information? Get used to it, especially if you are a hands-on parent. I’ve already heard comments on peeing all over himself and the parent, penis size texture/color/size of poop, and the curd-like nature of his spitup.

I do have a special note as well. The Ergo Baby – get it. Especially with the Infant Insert. It not only calms & comforts Felix but it enables me to be able to actually complete tasks (and eat!) while minding the baby. Initially, I just wanted to pick him up and carry and/or rock him every time he’d cry and his mother was occupied, but this eliminates the use of my hands for anything of note, like ‘using them.’ The ergo was a godsend, and while still a tad bit clunky, it both encourages good posture (bend at the legs), keeps Felix close and keeps my arms free to grab stuff, eat (!) and type.

It is truly exhausting and I really do learn each and every day – I’m also starting to realize that element of “seeing everything for the first time again” through his eyes, as each time his eyes focus or follow an object or sound, there is genuine awe. For both of us.