A Family Outing

Early yesterday morning we headed to Mt. Vernon, Illinois for a couple of meals with my family. Family gatherings like this are few and far between, so for many who came, it was the first time they got to meet my daughter.

Actually, for almost everybody it was the first chance to get to see her, and for all of them it was the first chance to get to hold her. The last time my sister and dad got to see her was the day she was born and nobody got to hold her or touch her. Not even us.

So yesterday was a good experience for us, probably more so than for anybody else.

The plan was to meet at McDonald's for lunch around noon, eat and talk for a little while, then go waste some time until we met up with my dad at Chili's for dinner. But, as everything often goes with my family, plans get thrown out the window the second we make them (The very first, original plan was to have everybody meet at Applebee's for lunch - this lasted about 3 days before being changed).

We ended up spending a lot of time at McDonald's, so much so we only had time to feed Evelyn her dinner before crossing the street and going to Chili's. We had hoped that after lunch we could go check out a movie or a mall - both of which seemed less appealing upon further investigation, once we got to Mt. Vernon.

Anyway, more to the point. We got to see my Grandma Williams, who obviously fell in love with Evelyn the second she laid eyes on her. My aunts, Leota and Sherry. Leota and I talked while Sherry took pictures. Grandma had a great time, as she always does when being around her grandchildren.

My youngest sister, Avery, came afterwards with her daughter, Katie. Katie seemed to be a little shy at first, but warmed up to her cousin after a couple of hours. Avery got to hold her youngest niece and we sit and talked for about three hours before she had to go to work.

My Grandma and Grandpa Withrow came after Avery and for a moment there I thought she was going to strangle Evie. I don't think I've seen anybody hold a baby so tight and so close. See, my grandma loves babies, so she clung to Evelyn like velcro. Grandpa got to hold her, too, and the first time I tried to take a picture, I noticed Evelyn was "flipping off" the camera. This wouldn't do, so I told my grandfather why I was taking a second picture, only to see, for the first time in my life, him raise his middle finger to the sky. I guess he just didn't want Evelyn to feel left out in the picture.

I wish my camera trigger was faster to have this on film...

Then we went and fed Evelyn in a parking lot because when Jen had tried breastfeeding in the McDonald's, some very impolite people - not affiliated with my family, might I add - could not stop staring in our direction. When I would catch their glance with a "What do you think you're looking at" look their french fries would become the most interesting thing in the world.

Stupids.

So we went to dinner at Chili's. Grandma and Grandpa Withrow came along, my aunt Leota had to get to work so my Grandma Williams and aunt Sherry headed back to Fairfield (or F-town, as the kids say).

Now, I have to talk for a second about my dad. Apparently, without seeing him but hearing me talk about him has lead my friend James to believe he looks like Bruce Willis in "Die Hard." He does not, in fact, look anything like Bruce Willis in any movie he's ever done, whatsoever.

My dad is an electrician, and in all truth, probably the best Wayne County, Illinois has. No... no probably. He is the best in the county, and maybe the best in the southern half of the state. That's not just me talking, I've heard people talk about his work as though admiring an undiscovered painting of Michaelangelo or da Vinci. I've been on jobs with him that took some men days to complete, and we finished within a couple of hours because of his understanding of the wiring process.

I don't take this moment to advertise his talents for no reason. I say this because my dad just got off work and looked like it. Now, he's an electrician, remember? Not a plumber, but sometimes their work clothes tend to look about the same. My dad showed up wearing a t-shirt that, I have no doubt, started out that morning as being white, but now was a khaki color that matched his brown pair of Dickie's pants.

And, as usual, my dad unashamedly walks into Chili's and asks for a seat.

It was good to see my dad.

We got sat down and ordered our drinks and food, and Keshia (my oldest, younger sister) and her husband, Michael showed up with my youngest niece, Kassidy. To see them sit beside each other, you'd think Kassidy and Evie had known each other for years. Kassidy just saw her and smiled... and then head butted her. Evie just looked around like, "Did you see that crap?" But didn't cry and a good time was had by all.

Then the meal started and poor Evelyn got passed around like a Frisbee on a college yard.

Afterwards we spent some time at the local mall with Keshia and Mike, and then took the long trip home. But of course, there were plenty of pictures taken and when all was said and done, Evelyn slept the whole way home and well into the night.

Overall, it was a good trip.

The Joys of Tummy-Time

I don't know if you've ever heard of it. I know I hadn't until a few months before Evelyn was born. I don't know who named it, where it came from, or when it started.

Tummy-Time.

Is there even supposed to be a hyphen in that word? I don't know.

Regardless, it is my daughter's least favorite fifteen minutes of the day.

Wait. No.

This fifteen minutes ruins her day. Completely.

What happens is, during tummy-time, you take the infant and lay them down on their stomach. The benefits are numerous, and I'm not sure anybody really knows why we're supposed to do it. The reason being one of my coworkers insists that it is so a baby's head doesn't have a Frankenstein like flatness to the back of their skull from constantly laying on their back, and from the physical therapist it is to strengthen their necks so they can look up and develop their muscles in their neck and back, and from at least one doctor it serves to help their motor skills in looking up and build arm muscles.

I think its safe to rule out the Frankenskull theory, but the other two? Well, they better get their stories strait.

Even so, Evelyn despises these moments when she is forced to do something every member of my side of hates with an unnameable fury - exercise.

Well, it's not so much we hate it... we just seem to not do enough of it. So... there's that.

Still, she hates it. She cries and screams and makes these noises I am sure planet earth has not been subjected to since the age of dinosaurs. Jennifer insinuated today that she shrieks like a pterodactyl. My question is, "How does she know what a pterodactyl sounds like?"

Evelyn hates it, but she does seem to enjoy being coached. The more we cheer her on, it appears, the more she works without the banshee screams. I used to picture myself standing on the sidelines of the Rose Bowl, cheering on my players and instructing them with mind-blowing offensive plays. Today, that dream lives on in tummy time with great strategies like, "Just look up, Evie! You can do it," "Good girl! Now push yourself up a little higher," and "Slot right, 32 Blast on 4, ROLL!"

She's still not rolling, but we'll get there with more practice. Maybe some two-a-days.

Anyway, that's my fun blog on tummy-time. It will get easier, and she's not doing bad at all.

So that's the joys of Tummy-Time.

The Daycare Lady

So, long story short, we met with a daycare lady and it went well.

I'm actually supposed to call her today to make sure she reserves us a spot, and confirm that she's going to remain our daycare provider until forever. But I think I've lost her number.

The problem with daycares is that you are letting a complete stranger watch over your helpless child while you go about your daily business. These people have your kid for 8 hours a day (ours will only be for 5 hours a day, 3 days a week thanks to my work schedule) and you have to make sure you trust them not to mess stuff up.

For instance - you want your child to learn physics and they teach them basic math. What are they thinking? Like she couldn't handle it at the ripe old age of 7 weeks...

Perhaps you want your child to speak clearly and enunciate well, but they have a problem with their R's and L's making them both sound like W's. Doesn't mean that's wrong or they're bad people, but kids pick up on that stuff.

Or if you're a real stickler for the English Language Proper, and they go around saying stuff like, "Ain't nothang yer kin du 'bout ih, Mah," when what they should say is, "Mother, I do not foresee a solution to your dilemma."

Maybe you want your child to eat with silverware and plates instead of off the ground, but the daycare lady just throws bits of Kibble on the floor and lets the children fight over it.

We've heard stories. It's all I'm saying.

So when we met with Tysee (I really hope I spelled that right because I have to write the woman a check sometime soon) met with us last night, it was comforting to see the environment Evelyn will be staying in and good to know her and her daycare are not only safe but met our standards - which were set pretty high after the last daycare we interviewed at.

Speaking of that experience - the other daycare we checked out - if you happen to run a daycare, do not do the following:

A) Hire a lunchlady who has spent so many years smoking she has a perpetual fog hanging out of her mouth when she breaths and a voice that would terrorize even the most war-hardened marine.

B) Leave an infant just sitting in a bouncer, completely unattended on the opposite side of the room, alienated from the rest of the kids. Especially when that infant is big enough to get out, walk around, and burn the place down.

Or

C) Point out the various places of mold hanging from the ceiling to a potential customer. Neither did we want to see that, nor will we bring our daughter to be a part of your services.

Because of this place, we decided that we'd be pretty picky. We checked out dozens of websites and most of them even dropped the ball. But a friend of Jennifer's at work recommended her daycare lady who, at the time, didn't have an opening.

I called her and we talked about it, and once she had an opening we scheduled an interview. Easy as eating cake and ice cream.

So we get there and look around and things worked out.

Plus she laughed at all my jokes, so she's good people.

Mark the Date

Last night Evelyn slept for a full five and a half hours.

Since learning about her slight reflux problem, we've been trying to keep her propped up until her medicine kicks in. We've been letting her sleep this way, too.

It works.

So right now go and write the date down on your calendars, if for no other reason than to have a good excuse to celebrate. My daughter slept through - pretty much - the whole night.

Now, onto a different topic.

I truly do not mean what is to follow as some sexist commentary, or some keen way to insult, put down, or make a derogatory statement about the difference between husbands and wives, or men and women in general. This is simply an observation about my wife and I and how we differ in our parenting techniques.

So, in the true nature of this blog, I made a top ten difference between me and my wife in our parenting tactics list.

Why not, right?

So here we go.

10. She - The baby cries, she somehow tunes her out until she's ready to deal with it. He - Curls up into the fetal position and plugs his ears, hoping the crying stops soon and will give the baby a car when she turns 16 if it gets her quiet now.

9. She - Takes tons and tons of pictures of EXACTLY THE SAME THING. He - Takes a picture when the baby does something funny, only to realize that right when the photo was snapped, the baby did something different and less interesting.

8. She - Feeds the baby milk from her own body. He - will never, ever attempt to taste this fluid despite what anybody else says (Insert: "You've got to try it at least once" dialog from weird co-workers here).

7. She - Gives commentary on every diaper change to the baby who probably has no clue what she's talking about, despite how cute she tries to make her voice sound. He - Gives commentary to anybody who is listening about how gross this looks.

6. She - Drops stuff all the time, but has never once even came close to dropping the baby. He - Has never fumbled a football in any type of football game he's played in (To be fair, I was a lineman in High School and nobody goes for a fumble in "two-hand touch), but has almost dropped the baby at least twice, which now causes him to be incredibly scared he's going to drop her every time he picks her up.

5. She - Can wake up 15 times in one night for random feedings, diaper changes, just to rock her to sleep and can function normally the following day. He - Wakes up one time to change a diaper and falls asleep at his desk at the minimum of one time the next day.

4. She - Has discovered new applications for her phone to keep the feeding times regulated. He - Just uninstalled the Star Wars Lightsaber application for the fifth time.

3. She - Can feed the baby, wash the dishes and talk on the phone while watching television all at the same time. He - Can feed the baby and wish he had more hands.

2. She - Has lost all her weight gained from the pregnancy. He - Found it.

1. She - Is starting to dread going back to work and knows she'll miss the baby while she's gone. He - Is looking forward to her going back to work so he can start secretly teaching the baby about Doctor Who, video games, and comic books in an effort to make her a nerd like her dad without the baby's mom knowing.

And there you have it. I hope you laughed. I haven't really ever dropped Evie, but at times I think I have almost dropped her. Hence, I pay very close attention when I hold her. When Jen holds her, I should also point out, that though she may be asleep, nobody can loosen her grip on the baby.

So... weird.

The Genetics Doctor

Today we had an early appointment with a genetics doctor and a physical therapist for Evelyn.

I had flashbacks to her birth.  I didn't realize it before, but I have developed a keen dislike for trips to the hospital.  The reason being is that no matter how much good news, they always seem to have that curveball of bad news they like to throw at you.

With that said, there were no curveballs lobbed at us today - not really.

For starters, Evie has gained over three pounds since her birth and grew two inches taller. Hopefully, when she's old enough to read and understand this, she won't begrudge me for broadcasting her weight gains like her mother would do, were I to do the same thing for her.

All of her motor skills and the like were actually above average - no surprise there as any child of mine is no doubt born above average.  Seriously, she tested great.  That's not coming just from a proud dad, the physical therapist said so, too.

The genetics guy gave us our only disappointing news and that was that he believed Evelyn to have been born slightly premature.  He said he could tell because when he tapped her foot a certain way, she shook her leg a little.  He's the shaman, I'm just repeating what he said the chicken bones said to him. 

Either way, he assured us by the age of four months, she will be fine and all the shaking will cease. No big deal there.

We did, however, learn why Evie likes to eat every two hours and only seems to get a good night of sleep in her bouncer. She has heartburn. Reflux. Whatever. It's fixable with some medicine and she'll be fine in under a week.  So good news there, too.

Overall, I'd say it was a good visit to the witch-docotor's office.

Just kidding, I only say that because I feel like making a joke. He was very professional and even complimented my beard. So he must be good, right?

Right. 

Evie's First Movie

Sunday night, Jennifer enjoyed her first Mother's day. Not to be outdone, Evelyn enjoyed her first movie.

We went to watch Iron Man 2.

Before you say anything, we didn't have to. Jennifer wanted to see it. Not just me. Evelyn didn't have much say in the matter but she must have loved it because we've watched movies from Netflix, DVD's on the Xbox and just tried to sit through one, thirty minute episode of The Office and Evelyn is usually escorted out of the room for an average of ten minutes whilst the t.v. is put on pause (Thank God for DVR) so she can ... calm her excitement, shall we say?

But through Iron Man 2, with all its explosions, yells and gunfire, she sleeps strait through it.

Robert Downey Jr. 1. Steve Carell 0.

The most humorous part of the evening though, Hollywood could not have written.

Right as we bought our tickets, the woman behind us - whose family and friends were noticeably absent - asked, "The Backup Plan for one?"

Without skipping a beat, my wife goes, "Awww..."

I knew what she was thinking, and later she'd spell it out for me anyway. "That poor woman was going to see a movie by herself. That's no way to spend Mother's Day."

And later still, she'd try to be optimistic, "Well maybe she was meeting someone."

I couldn't resist. "Who? The only other lonely woman from her office?"

Well we laughed even if you aren't giggling about it. I'm the first to say that we're human and sometimes prone to think or say mean things. It's not like she reads this blog and now knows we're laughing about the experience.*

We got sat down towards the back of the theater and Jen fed Evelyn. This was my first experience of being with her while she did this with nothing but a thin sheet over her. Wait, have I said that we're breastfeeding before? Pretty sure I have, but if you're reading this and wondering what the sheet is for, now you know.

I have to be a little too honest. If I saw one guy trying to sneak a peak over, under or through that sheet, there would be war.

War Machine! He was in the movie. It was such a great movie...

Sorry... ahem.... yeah.

It is just a weird feeling seeing my wife practically exposing herself in front of strangers, even if she's doing it to feed my daughter. That's all.

When it was all over we had dinner at Grindstone Charley's. If you've never eaten there (you're not missing anything in my opinion) it's a nice little place to eat. Especially if you're my wife and you want to eat there on Mother's Day. It is completely okay, I mean, if you are my wife and want to eat there but only on Mother's Day.

All in all, our first trip with a baby to the theater was a success.

We loved it and so did she.

Happy Mother's Day!

*If this was you, we are very sorry to laugh at your expense.

Running on Fumes

I know I have talked about our lack of sleep quite a bit lately, but the past few nights have been ridiculous.

I know, you're reading this wanting to say, "I told you so," but you can stop right there.

Evelyn hasn't been eating in her normal schedule, and her sleep schedule has mutated into a series of short naps. If I had an old uncle named Manfred, his behavior would probably be similar to this. You know, sleep here and there, eat whenever, and poop his pants ever few hours? That's what its like.

And when she cries, it is like a deafening banshee blast to my ears. Somehow, Jen is able to tune it out, but (God help me!) I'm going deaf.

This is transpiring every night now. For hours at a time.

Did you know that sleep deprivation is a type of torture banned by the Geneva Convention because it is so inhumane?*

The lack of sleep is not only affecting our sanity, its affecting our sanity!

Small joke.

But it seriously is wearing us out and we are both running on fumes. I almost fell asleep three times at work today, realised I hadn't updated this blog as scheduled yesterday, and actually did black out once on the toilet.

And don't make that face like you've never done it.

Long story short: I apologize for the late update and hope to get a nap in sometime soon.

*This may or may not be true. Chances are it is not.

She's so tiny!

Everybody says that Evelyn is small. "She's so tiny" is something everyone who sees her declares. So tiny and so cute.

We get it.

Jen gets annoyed with it. I don't blame her. We had Evelyn a week early and she was small. To my wife its the equivalent of hearing every person say, "Oh your daughter has a handicap," "Oh wow, look at the size of the mole on her face!" or "Your child is not normal."

We know it comes with the territory. She's small, but she's grown almost a pound a week since coming home and now actually looks like every other baby her age. At least, I think so.

But this has made me realize that try as every parent may to believe their child is perfect, the next Einstein, or something incredibly special, everyone else is oblivious to this fact.

Sometimes I want to cut the person off rudely and say, "We get it. She's small. But guess what, your kid is nonathletic, horrible at math, and should probably get used to wearing shirts with a small plastic tag that has his name lettered on. Oh, and why were his first words, 'Would you like to try a Big Mac?'"

That's the angry dad in me. He stays restrained with giant chains in a dungeon locked away in the recesses of my mind. He will be unleashed when a bully threatens my children, when a parent-teacher conference begins with "I just don't like Evelyn," and when the Ice Cream man decides to short-change her for Popsicle.

I know people don't mean it wickedly or even are attempting to point out flaws. I would venture to say that 100% of the time they are meaning, "Oh she's so cute and new." New. Not Small.

But we've gotten used to it.

Really.