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!

Get a Grip

Hello friend, it's been awhile. As I stated in my last entry, the past two weeks for me have been killer. There were highs (shooting with Peyton Manning) and lows (waking up at 5AM and getting home at 9PM). Despite my back-breaking schedule, I was able to get some decent time in with Benjamin. A medley of other noteworthy events have happened in the past two weeks - Emily's birthday, Father's Day and our wedding anniversary. Mental note - buy Hallmark® stock before next June.

So as I get a grip on life, Benjamin is getting a grip on anything within his reach. It's definitely a hoot to watch him, because he is about as accurate as the crane game at your local pizza place. But when he does clinch on to you your options are: a.) wait until he loses interest b.) tickle him to loosen his grip c.) gnaw your finger off. I've mentioned it before, a baby's grip is surprisingly strong. I could still totally beat a baby arm wrestling, but they have a shocking amount of torque in their digits.

It's funny to see him react when he is grasping at something in particular. When he successfully grabs it, the look on his face starts off as "holy cow, I did it!" And then it turns into a perplexed look that says, "umm...who put this in my hand?" We also think that he has some latent simian genes in him. His foot dexterity is very impressive. If he's really riled up Benjamin will clap with his hands (sorta) and with his feet (definitely) at the same time. His absolute favorite thing to do now is put both of this feet up in the air and grab on to them (the Baby Pose if you take yoga).

His foot tendencies are so monkey-like we actually put a banana in between his feet to see if he could hold it - of course. And the cherry on top of the experience is looking over at Schmax (he wears a cone due to allergies) staring at us and then slowly lowering his head back to the floor, as if to disapprovingly say, "you people are sooo weird, and I'M the one wearing a lampshade."

So the next big thing for the Alexanders is...air travel. We are going on a little(big) family vacation up to the lakes of Wisconsin. I will no doubt have something good to report in the near future. Just thinking about it stresses me out. When I travel by myself I am like an well-oiled piece of German engineering, looking out for #1. Even traveling with Emily makes my kettle whistle a bit. I just don't want to be that person/couple/family that holds up the line and is the target of every person's headshake and eyeroll in the terminal. And this is coming from a former eyeroller.

Best case is that we travel with little to no incident. Worst case is Benjamin cries the entire flight, barfs on a business man behind us, I'm forced to land the plane using my video game skillz, and they some how lose our suitcase and carseat. My sippy cup is definitely half-empty headed into this adventure. All travel aside I am looking forward to the vacation part. Benjamin is still a little too young to do some truly cute things - playing in the sand, splashing in the water, cherry picking, etc.

Aha! It just hit me, I can put his power-wench grip to use in the cherry orchards. I'll just hold him up to a branch and he pick with all four of his monkey-hands. Cherry toejam for all!

Don't Hate Tha Playah

Hate the game...the game of life that is. I seriously haven't had a chance to think, let alone write this past week. And it only gets worse. I'm producing 7 TV spot over the next 10 days and it has drained my creative juices. Contrary to my parent's belief, I don't sit in my office and play with toys all day.

I have lined up another cameo from Emily in the near future and this picture was taken mere moments ago.

Talk at you soon

The First 100 Days

The first 100 days of a new presidency has always been lauded for some reason as a good measure of whether or not they're going to make it as an effective leader. So with the political hype-machine in full effect, I'm going to pour a cup of coffee and document the little mental bits that come to mind as I reflect on my first 100 days with a baby.

- Baby's are surprisingly strong. I mean I can still take them down if I need to, but their grip can be like a power-winch. Especially if your hair is involved.

- Baby poop never truly comes out of clothes. Even if you get it out of the fabric, the mental stains are still there.

- As much as I wanted to believe that the generic store brand (le$$) diapers are just as good as a premium brand, like Pampers®, they aren't. Not even close. The best comparison is the nice toilet paper you use at home to the transparent rice paper they have in airport bathrooms.

- In a short amount of time diaper changing goes from a delicate procedure (removing a kidney) to an exercise in efficiency (pitting out a NASCAR).

- I still stand by my theory that socks you lose in the dryer are compiled by gnomes and restitched into onesies that appear the next time you go to the closest for an outfit. Those things are like kudzu.

- Living room furniture no longer serves as comfortable seating for entertaining, it becomes various staging areas for changing, feeding, playing with your baby. And it all has a faint smell of baby powder now.

- Let's say your big, strong baby happens to some how push himself 18 inches in about 2.1 seconds and slides off your low-riser couch - your heart will skip a beat.

- The amount of home-cooked family breakfasts has increased by 400%. Which is odd, because the new addition can't even eat food yet.

- If you own a beagle, it will howl like a coyote at the moon when your baby cries. It is either part of the pack-mentality or a way for the dog to get you to come in here and shut this thing up.

- The amount of time I have to workout has decreased, yet I've gone down a pant size. I attribute it combined work and baby stress, or I am slowly rotting from the inside out from my caffeine intake.

- If you are about to have a baby and have access to your medical insurance and your spouse's insurance, enroll in both so you are double covered. The monthly premiums will suck, but your total cash layout for the birth almost becomes non-existent. Total medical bills = close to $7500. Our $ spent = less than $500.

- If you are the one that consoles and puts the baby down to sleep, you are hypersensitive to the noises your spouse makes - "Uh, why are you using the microwave?! Did you just flush the toilet!?"

- When your baby is 18lbs at 3 months, the baby carrier feels like an oxen's yoke.

- Parenting magazine is HEAVILY skewed to moms, which is understandable but it took two to tango and it takes two (most of the time) to raise a baby. Oh, and they repeat their tips and article subjects often. I suggest a subscription to Dale Monthly.

- If you're in a crappy mood, the best medicine is a baby smiling at you just because they saw your face. And then if you can make them laugh, you won't even remember what your problem was in the first place.

- I don't baby-talk, but I do speak sing-song-y. Diaper changes or putting on clothes goes so much better if you free-style rap about it or turn it into a rock power-ballad. Plus, it's a baby. He doesn't know how terrible my voice is...yet.

- Benjamin is a large baby. He is often mistaken for a baby many months older, because of his size. When you tell someone his true age their reaction is a cross between, "Clearly you don't know the real age of your baby." and "Are you feeding him calf-starter?"

- Baby and vacation pictures are similar in that you have the nicely posed ones where everyone is smiling and standing in front of some landmark/location. But the pictures you really treasure are the ones that are imperfect, capturing real life in the brief moment in time. Life's not perfect, so your pictures shouldn't be either.

- Time means nothing and everything. It feels like we've had Benjamin for a year already, and I want him to hurry and grow up so we can do some fun stuff. But in the same instant I want to freeze him amber to keep him as this cute giggling baby who doesn't hate me yet.

- The experience of being a parent pulls the curtain back to give you a glimpse of what your parents went through with you. And as I make sacrifices of my time and money for Benjamin, it gives me a new appreciation for the sacrifices they made for me. But I guess that's what parenting is in a nutshell, giving a piece of yourself to someone else so that they can grow and thrive. It's a shame that it can take 30 years for this life lesson to dawn on you.

There you have it. Coffee cup is empty and as if he were cued, Benjamin is crying after his nap. Meaning...(Drums and guitar kick in) "It's TIME TO CHANGE A DIAPER-BAYBEE! YEEAAHHH!!"

Rutbusters

I distinctly remember times when Emily and I were at an eatery or catching a movie (pre-Benjamin) and we would see a couple out with their baby at 11:00PM - Emily and I would give them looks and mutter to ourselves, "Egads, what parents would have their kids out at this time of night?" I would like to apologize to every couple I prejudged, because I have now joined your ranks.

It struck me last Friday night that Fridays used to be special. "C'mon! I'm Friday night, not some run of the mill Tuesday or Wednesday. I have a restaurant named after me for cryin' out loud!"

But sadly our nights were starting to blend together, becoming a bit formulaic. So I made the executive decision after dinner that we're going out somewhere for dessert. Emily's reaction was part glee and part dish-dropping shock - I hate dessert and this was very out of character for me. But we needed what I am dubbing a "Rutbuster."

We eat late, so after dinner meant we rolled up to Cheesecake Factory around 10:30PM. And we had a great time. Some laughs, a little cheesecake and a few couples give us the look I knew all too well. But Emily and I had a Teflon® attitude about the whole thing. We needed some time out doing something out of the norm, even if it was as mundane as Apple Strusel Cheesecake. If they had a problem, well that's their problem.

Driving back home I did try and pinpoint why seeing a couple out sorta late with their baby seemed so wrong. I guess it seemed selfish, as though the couple was imposing their need to have a glass of Reuniti on ice on their hapless baby. I now know how baby's schedule's work - allowing small pockets of time for you to do whatever while they sleep. I also know that baby carriers are like a morphine drip for babies - give them one minute and they're out.

So my final ruling is that some times it's worth putting up with a mildly fussy baby the next day if it means you and the Mrs. get a little respite. I am an advocate for Rutbusting, but not for taking your baby to The Club to get your drink on or to a casino. If you do that, I will slowly shake my head and deep sigh at you.