David's New Brother, Nathaniel

Some More Pictures, Now That He's Almost 5 Months

2 Months Already!

[pictures below]

I have to say I can't remember my workweeks passing so fast!  As much as I'd like to say that it's because of all the obvious changes in my home life, but it's probably more because we're finally seeing an end to the major winter rush (worst infectious winter in a while, in my opinion). 

In any case, it makes David's changes all the more dramatic.  I'm still amazed at how tiny he looks in some of his early pictures.  He's 11 lb, as of last week's well visit: quite a bump from his original 6 lb 9 oz.  And of course his development's dandy.

Early on, I thought I'd have to force myself not to examine David.  I remembered one of the residents back at CHOC, Nivedita More, mentioned that she never placed a stethoscope on her own kids and, even then, I thought that would be something I would strive for.  Funny thing is, except for some pulse checking very early on, I can't imagine wanting to hear his heart or look in his eyes or check his tympanic membranes.  Of course, it's nice that he's been healthy all this time and I may change my mind and check for an ear infection if he cracks a fever, but somehow, that doesn't seem plausible.

The only big exception, though, is that I've been hyper-aware of his developmental milestones and have been itching to see him smile.  He seemed to do little more than eat and sleep.  Waking meant crying.

Almost on cue, the smiling began two weeks ago.  Laughter began shortly thereafter.  We were reminded to do tummy time by our pediatrician (another piece of evidence that I'm definitely not David's pediatrician) and he rolled within moments.

Yes, our David is hitting his 4-month milestones and, yes, I'm bragging. :)

Now, we're working on crib (bassinet) training: some days are better than others, but I'm sure I'll be proud of him about that, too.

Chapter Complete

I, like many people, am overcome with the news of the death of Osama bin Laden.  And it's not because it's a celebration of death, but because it seems to promise that the world will be a little safer when we wake up tomorrow morning.  One of the first things K said to me basically relayed hope that David may live in a safer world now.

I don't for a second think that Osama bin Laden is the root of all evil.  The damage he has done will be long-lasting: he has trained others and those will go on.  He has bred hate and, unfortunately, there has been plenty of fertile soil.

Instead, I see this victory as sign that we are getting the right cooperation from our allies, that we have infiltrated their network, that we can prevent future attacks, and that we can destroy their worldwide machine from the inside out.  At the same time, I hope and pray we can make the world safer by not allowing the world to fall in such disrepair through war, famine, and greed that this happens all over again.

May al Qaeda fall before our eyes.  Forever.

This Is Why It's...

Snapping pictures daily, and this is the best I feel I've come up with.  Further down you'll find pictures that do David justice: these are just a vain, amateur attempt to record his face for posterity.  (I'm saving pictures of him getting a bath until his Prom Night.)

Amazingly, by the time most people will read this, we'll be a month in.  He's certainly grown and we could not be happier with his continued health.  David's been well enough that he's not even getting the tiny things that can bug: no real cradle cap, great eczema-free skin, no spitting-up/reflux. 

Of course, I'm still greedy.  He's prone to staying up until at least midnight before really settling down for sleep and often needs a warm chest to lay on to settle down.  Really, it's not the worst punishment.

Now, I'm just looking forward to the first real smiles.  They should happen within the next month, but knowing me (and how much I've been looking forward to them), I'll be nervous if I don't see if by mid-May...

Good to Know a Photographer...

Michael, one of my oldest, best friends and who happened to be my best man, has never lost his photographic eye. Here's some snaps he took when David was just under a week old.

To be honest, David is one of the cutest boys I've ever seen (I know, I'm probably prejudiced), but absolutely HATES the camera.  I'm grateful for digital photography because I can take pictures with abandon and get one in a hundred that's worth looking at twice.

Yet, Michael made him look good even on a day he was grumpy for the camera, as usual.  Thanks again, Michael!

How do "normal" people do this?

Hats off to people jumping into parenting without a combined two decades of pediatric experience!

I have to say, so far, we've been very blessed with David's health and sleep and eating habits.  K is exceptionally well read in regards to breastfeeding and David took to it like a champ.  Even so, it can be challenging, even to me--and I'm just a spectator.

Add on to that all the little grunts, whistling sounds from the nose, crying, unexplained fussiness (until it's explained by a diaper moistened by dew)--I feel and understand the fright of many of the parents I deal with.

And the weird thing is that I don't know that the grunts and whistles are normal because I learned it in medical school or because it was presented during residency.  The only way I know it's normal behavior is because I've heard the concerns for years and know that, in most cases, it passes.

Medical school teaches about disease.  Residency teaches how to investigate and organize and manage.  Experience teaches us normality.

Thankfully, I've got a decade-plus of experience that lets me sleep at night.

And goodness knows what it must be like to be the first-time parents of a sick child...