Quick Hit - Don't Wake the Baby

This was just a funny life moment to me - I'm standing at our kitchen bar working (my new past-time, ugh) and Emily says that she is making a treat for us. She cuts up some fruit and all of the other fixins for a smoothie, pours it all into the blender and walks to our office at the other end of the house and runs it with the doors closed.

If an alien ship was observing us it would be inexplicably bizarre behavior, "Why does the Woman transport their foodstuffs into the Data Transmission Room for smoothization? Does not compute...DESTROY!"

But I totally understood her motives and completely appreciated her effort to not wake the baby with some late-night smoothin'. That's all. Life is funny and smoothies are delicious.

The Family Vacation - Part 2

As promised, the conclusion to the cliffhanger that was our vacation up to Wisconsin for the 4th of July holiday. When last we left off I had regaled you on how fantastic Benjamin did in the actual traveling part of our trip, and mentioned that he got sick.

Before I get to the sickness, let me tell you about the one vacation day we did have with Benjamin. It started out with Emily and I getting to join the breakfast caravan to a legendary Scandinavian restaurant called Al Johnson's, WITHOUT the baby. This was a simple pleasure that we both enjoyed, and probably was the reason we slowly sipped our coffee and chewed our food 32 times to stretch out the occasion.

Al Johnson's is renowned for its Swedish pancakes, everyone gets them, except for me. I just don't like them, but I give them one bite each year to win me back over. I prefer some nice old world oatmeal with fresh berries - yes, I get sufficiently made fun of. Even when I place my order the waitress looks at me like, "We serve oatmeal?!" And it usually takes forever to get my food because the guys in the back are trying to quickly read the instructions on the back of the oatmeal box. Oh well, my cardiologist appreciates my choice.

We get back from breakfast and it's time to hit the Door County Fourth of July parade. I really do love this piece of small town Americana, where a parade is made up of war vets, local businesses and patriotic people who love their families and country. The kids go crazy for the candy, I just enjoyed the moment seeing my son sitting on my wife's lap waving a little American flag. I never thought those words would ever come out of my mouth. Now THIS was a nice family vacation moment I could check off my list.

The next opportunity to make some more memories was at a local man-made beach on Lake Michigan. But with the amount of gear we had in tow you'd think the beach we were going to was Omaha. It would almost be easier to bring sand and dump it at the lakehouse and turn the sprinkler on. We get to the beach and the fun begins - all of those picture book memory moments were about to happen. But the reality quickly sunk in that Benjamin is just too young to really partake. Emily dipped his feet in the water (freezing lake water) and he was nonplussed, but he was captivated by seeing the little waves trickle over the sand and stones. Each wave brought with it a new bit of magic to him, that was neat to see him transfixed on something so natural and simple that adults routinely dismiss it.

I'm told I hated the sand when I was a baby. I have passed this loathing on to my son. Totally hated it. We quickly ran out of things to do with a baby at the beach. We smeared $7.00 worth of baby sunscreen on him and it was so thick it felt like trying to swallow peanut butter with a dry mouth. Then we just took turns holding up a tented beach towel over him to make sure he wouldn't get burnt. Then he had to eat, followed by sleep, so our beach blanket bingo was short and sweet.

That night we had a nice meal with all of the family at a place that fries anything, I think my menu was even battered. He who eats oatmeal also chooses to shun deep-fried foods, so I ordered the "Broasted Chicken". Take a moment and think what the preparation method of "broasting" could mean. If you're like me it means a combination of "broiled" and "roasted" - sounds delicious, right? Negative. "Broasting" means you deep fry the chicken in a pot with the lid on it, because you don't want any of that fat and oil to bubble out of the pan now do we? Barf. It was a great event, but I wanted to smack the cook up side his head with this broasted carcass sitting on my plate.

(The next order of events may not be 100% accurate, but it's the way I remembered it)

Even though it is summer time, Wisconsin nights drop down to the low 60's. Perfect for us, problematic for babies. Towards the end of this night we noticed that Benjamin was feeling really warm and wasn't his usual jovial self. We took his temperature and he was a little warmer than usual, nothing to go crazy over. This was, however, the first fever Benjamin had ever had. We made him as comfortable as possible and went to sleep.

I can't remember what time it was (3:30am?) when we wake up to the sound of choking/coughing/death knell of a forest creature, to instantly discover that it is coming from Benjamin. We pull him out of the crib and his hands and feet are freezing, but he was burning up. We took his temperature again and it kept rising like an oven preheating - 100...101...101.5...oh no. Panic sheared through our sleepiness, not really knowing what to do with a feverish baby and the closest real hospital is 45 minutes away. The hilarious thing to me now is that we were trying so hard not to disturb anyone else in the house, to the point where I'm using my iPod's illuminated screen to shine on us instead of the lamp - dumb.

Our sister in-law and mother of 3 was thankfully in the next room and gave us some great advice and calmed our fears as much as possible. We gave him baby medicine and after 24 hours the fever had broken, but there were a few moments where Emily and I shared some serious non-verbal communication to each other that said, "Is our baby going to live through the night?" New parent hysterics, sleep-deprivation - call it whatever you want. I had a genuine sense of fear for the life of my little baby, even to the point where I started to imagine about all of the things he wouldn't have a chance to experience. I don't even want to think about it again.

The legacy left from his sickness is something called...The Croup. Not to be confused with the C.H.U.D. The Croup is a respiratory affliction that blah, blah, blah WebMD stuff goes here. It is a cough that makes babies sound like a sea otter. My non-professional diagnosis is phlegm in the deep throat, but a baby has no idea how to get it out like we would. The trouble with the Croup is that when your baby does cough up some gunk, they could choke on it. Maybe Hendrix had the Croup too.

So began "Baby Watch 2008." Emily and I elected to spend the rest of our vacation (for the most part) staying close by Benjamin's side in order to suction out the crud when he coughed it up - not something you'd find on a Carnival Cruise brochure.

My wave of emotions went like this - relief that his fever broke, concerned about the Croup, frustrated that the prototypical vacation was compromised by the Croup, came to terms with the situation, then really enjoyed the time with Benjamin. It occurred to me that maybe him getting sick was actually the best thing to happen to our trip this year. Emily and I had already done everything there is to do in Door County in years past, but how often do we both have a week away from work to just interact with our baby?

The rest is sorta history. We cut our trip a little short to get him checked out by someone a little more professional than the small town Dr. Quinn, but even that was a fun little experience. So all in all, it was a nice family trip. Still not a "vacation", but we have plenty of time to scratch those off our lists in the years to come.

Can I Press Pause? - by Mom

*Mom is back by popular demand, because I've been (you guessed it) shooting and traveling, so thanks "Mom" for your contribution!*

Do you know what a contagion is? It describes what a drill team does when the first girl throws her hands in the air and just slightly after, each girl behind her does the same, until the motion is completed by everyone. It’s similar to what happens when you push down the first domino in a carefully set up pattern of dominos.

This is a perfect metaphor for Benjamin’s development. He’s not only doing new things, but each new thing leads to a subsequent new thing that seems to happen in quick succession. At the beginning of the month, Benjamin’s first tooth broke through. Less than two weeks later, a second tooth appeared. A couple days after that, I was giving Benjamin “tummy time” and he rolled over onto his back. In the time it took for me to call Dale and my mom, he had rolled back over from his back to his tummy, completely unassisted. The grin on his face after doing this seemed to say, “Did you just see that??? I’m awesome!!!”

Wow, I feel like everything is going so quickly, and our little boy is growing up fast. And if these things weren’t enough, Friday night, Benjamin emphatically uttered the phrase, “Oh yeah.” He seriously did, I’m not making this up. Dale heard it, too. I know you think we’re just eager parents trying to pass random sounds off as words, but the phrase was so clear. We both just looked at each other in amazement and laughed. I’m not sure why he said this… perhaps he loves Kool-Aid… or perhaps he loves Ferris Bueller’s Day Off… we’ll never know. Regardless, he’s a genius!

These things are met with excitement and a sense of pride. However, strangely enough, an unexpected emotion comes with it. There is a bittersweet feeling that occurs as I watch my little baby grow up. I love all the new things he’s doing and I’m excited for what’s to come, but I also love his sweet “baby-ness" and am not ready to move beyond that just yet. Is it okay for me to forbid him to grow up any more… at least for a few months so I can give each stage a bit more time? I wish I could just press ‘pause’ and enjoy this sweet moment a little longer…

…though I could do without the “nursing with teeth” thing.

The Family Vacation - Part 1

We made it back. The Alexanders packed up our goods and went up to the Wisconsin side of Lake Michigan (Door County) via Chicago for a 4th of July extravaganza. This was the 5th time we had gone up there with Emily's extended family for a week of amazing weather, Americana celebration and family fun.

So naturally I expected all the fun of year's past PLUS the additional fun of having our own child there to join in the memory making. At least that's how the brochure read inside my head. But there was an X factor that I hadn't banked on or even considered as I planned our Normandy-like travel plan - Benjamin getting sick (a whole nuther entry).

This quickly shifted the event from "Family Vacation" to family trip. The distinction I make is that a "vacation" is where your fun quotient meets or exceeds 75% of your time. You are able to relax, live more care-free and your only real concerns are tan lines. A "trip" is not void of fun, but it is no longer your main or only goal. Your time is occupied with near constant resource management (time, fuel, foodstuffs, etc.) and your head is on a swivel so everyone in your party survives. It's the difference between going to Mexico versus discovering Mexico.

In my previous post I cited that when I travel by myself I am like a machine, tuned with German precision. So I had to deal with self-inflicted worry trying to manage myself along with wife and child. And my temper did flare up once, no one's fault but my own (sorry). And looking back, the airline flight was THE smoothest part of the entire process.

Sidenote - flying is on the verge of getting really pricey. We traveled on my miles and I have status so all of the nickel and dime charges don't apply to us, but it would have been an additional $100 each way just to get our bags there. I'm surprised they don't charge you for the little paper bag tags. Hear that? That's the sound of a guy at American Airlines emailing his manager with a new "profit center" idea.

Benjamin was PERFECT on the flights. He proved my patent pending adage - everyone loves a baby who isn't crying. It was interesting for me to look at people's reactions on the plane as we walked down the aisle carrying a baby. They see the baby and then casually look away, but their body language reads "please don't sit by me, please don't sit by me, please don't sit by me..."

It's like those scenes in WWII movies, where a German officer is walking through a train car and people don't want to make eye contact, but they also don't want to look away like they have something to hide.

But when it looks like they are in the clear they get all cutesy with your baby, because they know some other sucker will have to deal with in-flight crying/pooping/spitting up.

One final thing for this installment that stuck out to me: Typical flight by myself - flight attendants speak less than 12 words to me - "Hi..." "Ice?" "Bub-bye..." Fly with a baby - they will practically let you fly the plane.

This guy (TJ) was our first flight attendant. He was a very nice friendly guy, but he mistook the in-flight PA system for an AM radio talk show mic. He started with some DFW airport trivia (it's grounds are bigger than Long Island) followed by how he had overcome various illnesses (ahem...) and ultimately how he had to move home (bing-bong, turn up air, fan self with magazine). We thought it would make his day to take a picture with him, so this one's for you Teej!

More to come soon, toodles.

My Real Life Barbie Doll - by Mom

When I was younger, I loved playing with Barbies. I had several of them. I also had the Dream House, Dream Pool, Silver Vette, furniture, tons of accessories, clothes, shoes, etc. But the funny thing was, I didn’t really PLAY with my Barbies. What I mean by that is I didn’t make them move or walk or talk, I just dressed them in different outfits, posed them, and when I finally got my LeClic disk camera, took pictures of them. But beyond that, there wasn’t much actual “play.”

Until four months ago, the fun memories of dressing up Barbie were long gone. But now, I have been blessed with my very own, real live Barbie Doll. I don’t know what it is about him, but I love to dress Benjamin up and put him in funny scenarios.


You may have noticed my affinity for this activity from earlier Blog pictures, such as ‘Benjamin with a mustache’ and ‘Benjamin reading to a bunch of rubber duckies.’ On my camera, I have many more of these types of photos… so many, they would bore you.

It’s just funny to me to imagine my baby doing non-baby things, like reading a newspaper or lifting weights, or in this case, a rapper rapping about why his momma is a pla-yah hay-tuh. (If you don’t get this, ask your kids or neices and nephews.) When an idea for a funny scenario pops into my head, I grab the camera and any necessary props and start taking pictures. I am 100% sure those are the pictures he will come to hate, roll his eyes at, and try to destroy before we show them to his future fiancé, friends, and family at his rehearsal dinner.

The greatest thing about it is that he’s so cooperative. He loves the attention, and he likes to stare at the camera when I shoot. Other than the costume changes, which he could probably do without, he goes along with just about anything Mommy wants him to do for the picture. (We’ll see how long this lasts.) The latest scenario: naked baby wearing bunny slippers. Way better than Barbie!