The Greatest Show in Diapers

February 27th, 2011

How many times have you caught yourself praying for something and it never happens? I pray all the time, but sometimes I catch myself praying for something that I know I will not get, like "Dear God please let the crying stop!" "God, please release the air bubbles inside little dude's belly!!" or "God if you silence my baby now, I swear I will never ask for the Packers to win again and yes you may continue to make me bald." As an adult and life-long church goer'er, I know that you should pray to God for the strength to deal with a crying baby three straight hours with maturity and poise. Something tells me that no matter how much I pray for silly things, the bigger lesson is that I have to learn to deal with this without Moses splitting the the air pockets in Ryan's belly or any other miracle for that matter. Gas and farts are just too small of a problem. Especially with the turmoil in Libya, slavery in Africa, the NFL season in the brink of lockout and Justin Bieber cutting his hair. I realize there are great problems in the world. That just does not compute though at 3am when my little ball of gas is corked up like a bottle of champagne. So on the hunt to find the cure for my buckaroo's Colicky tum-tum, I seek the local CVS pharmacy. I am confronted by Little Tummy's Anti-Gas Drops, Gripe Water, which is a licorice smelling Colic drops and a generic version of Mylicon. We first started with the generic version of Mylicon....after 5 days of no results so we try the Gripe Water. The Gripe water worked the first 24 hours, but sure as the Bears do suck, the little dude continued to store toots for the winter. We need a remedy that works! On a outing with my brother's family to the grand baby store, the even less personal version of WalMart for babies, we were on a hunt for a cure to release the farts! Krista, my sister-in-law, described each product to me and what worked for my niece. So thinking what worked at home and what she says, I bought the Little Tummy's. Five days in to these damn drops we realized they suck too. In the meantime we have heard every horror story and read every M.D. website possible. So finally we called the doctor and explained that we either want an answer, prescription or to take the baby back and to give us a refund. After explaining to us the legalities, not to mention the ethical issues, with giving a baby back, the doctor gave us a name for a good shrink (for me, not my wife) and a suggestion for Mylicon drops, not the generic. Crap, I think this is what Krista suggested in the first place. Ten dollars and 43 cents later I am home in front of my baby and proceed to take the eyedropper, dip it in the bottle, squeeze the squishy top to suck the cotton-candy-pink-goo into the clear tube until it reached .3ml. As soon as I place the dropper into the mouth of Ryan, a powerful glow illuminated, blinding me. A burst of air immediately blew across the entire room causing items on the shelves to fall and the power to flicker. It was reminiscent of the time in the Indiana Jones movie when the lid is removed from the Ark of the Covenant.....okay, I am exaggerating a bit...a tiny bit. It was amazing though. We gave him his first set of drops on Wednesday and it is now Sunday with no long, drawn out screaming fits. I actually slept 5 hours straight on Thursday evening and Ang was sleeping in 3 hour increments. I read the side of the bottle and realized that the generic and the real Mylicon drops are NOT the same. Regardless of our deepest gratitude to the Mylicon company, I wish they would have warned us somewhere on the label or the packaging, "Warning: your baby will experience powerful and exploding farts, smiling may occur." I can not begin to describe the deafening force coming out of this nine pound farting machine. It sounds like a cannon shooting Evel Knievel over a heard of buses and if you catch him sleeping, it is similar to machine gun fire. This really brings a whole new meaning to holy crap! I prayed and it happened, but something tells me I am still going to go bald, the Packers control their own destiny and Justin Bieber will still be a cool dude regardless of his hair. In this crazy five week ride, with our baby boy, I have to thank the big guy for each precious moment. I have deemed this 'The Colic Circus' and even though he is finally farting cannon balls and has become the Greatest Show in Diapers, I need to save my prayers for when he is old enough to try and light them on fire.

You Don't Gno-me!

February 10th, 2011

Every day for the past five days Ryan has a keen sense of knowing when we are tired or in need of sleep. He has developed this cry making pterodactyls sound like song birds on a spring morning. Why the crying? Ever heard of colic? If you haven't, it is a baby term for gas build up in the baby giving them the incredible ability of loud crying and throwing fits. I believe Colic is an acronym for Crazy Out-of-control Loud Insane Crying. As we have to deal with these emotions, I realize I can't call it a good day or a bad day. This is multifaceted and too complex, i must take the bull by the horns and form some strategery. I have discovered that this kid has to be dealt with in categories similar to homeland security threat levels. Level Blue, which I named "Aw, He's Just a Baby," when he is sleeping or napping and this is his peak cuteness. Level Green, which is cleverly named "Rolling With the Gnomies", (a play on words from the song, Rollin' with the Homies) meaning he is in his car seat and we have a 95% success rating for 'no crying' incidents. Level Yellow or "He's Awake!" and being awake has a significant risk of crying and he is just toying with us, waiting for the exact moment in which to pounce. Then there is Level Orange deemed "Holy Crap" because this is a cry in which can only be defended by a diaper change. You can only hope that this means he will quit crying after a fresh diaper has been wrapped around his tooshie. If not this could escalate into a Level Red my friends, oh yes, a Level Red or "Brace Yourself Fool!" Just when you are sitting in your rocker looking at his sweet face wondering how could God give me such a precious gift, he does an about-face which can only be described in to steps. First is the build up. The build up is a teaser, like maybe it isn't going to be a cry at all, maybe just a fart or a deep sign, or grunt. Do not fall for it. This is just a warning, DO NOT LET YOUR GUARD DOWN. The second step skips crying and goes straight into screaming......God awful, ear drum piercing, toe curling, glass breaking, Sasquatch deterring, SCREAMING! 

I have only had three weeks with this kid and just when i thought I had him down and i know him inside and out, he throws a wrench in my spokes. My sweet Candyland, kite flying from a toadstool image of him is gone, the bubble is burst, the dream is ka-put. It is like I don't even know him any more....or at least I only know Hyde, or is it Jekyll?  Okay, maybe i am being a bit too rash because it is 2:50am and I just got him to sleep from a major fit, or that I am sleep deprived. Either way i need to regroup and take a step back to remember the good things (pause).......okay I am back. I have to remember that for the past five years Ang and I have wanted and tried to have a baby. After countless doctors and oncology visits in different states, we became discouraged. I remember praying one day a year ago that if God ever blessed us with a baby, I wouldn't care if he cried every day because it would be worth every minute of lost sleep. So i guess I have to live up to my word and love to live with the crying and fits. So every time we awake to the awful...i mean sweet sounds of colic crying, i will pretend it is the wind whistling through the tail on his kite, he flying from a toadstool.

We are the Champions!

February 6th, 2011

Coach Mike McCarthy gets a Gatorade bath while holding Ryan Steeno.

Did you know that Ryan was born right before the NFC Championship game? Well he was. I can actually say the happiest day of my life was the day the Packers went to the Super Bowl. Kickoff was at 3:30pm and Ryan was born at 1:34pm which gave us just enough time to clean up baby, clean up mommy and sit back to watch the game. Even though we never had a chance to sit and watch the entire game, we did have it on in the room. We gauged as to when to look at the TV to see how the Pack were doing by the cheers and jeers coming from the waiting room. Sure enough the Pack won beating the stupid Bears (which no one likes because they are stupid...face...people) and are now off to the Super Bowl. 

    Two weeks later, on Super Bowl Sunday, we are watching the Pack put the hurt on Pittsburgh in the first half  and stay alive in the second. As a Packers season ticket holder, I have to tell you, I wanted to be there bad. There is no way I can leave my Buckaroo to watch his first Super Bowl by himself? The lil' dude has known nothing but the Packers since he was born....2 weeks ago. A few examples are his car seat cover is a quilt hand-made by a wonderful woman at work, Tammy, his first Packer outfit was from Mike Lucas (who named Ryan during pregnancy, "Little Mikey") but he's only 7 pounds so he will have to grow into that one. Luckily our Green Bay family sent a newborn-size Packers onesie and his Aunt Krista just gave him a Packers fleece blanket. He was set for the game, the only thing we needed to do now is take his shirt off, paint him half green and half yellow so we can run outside in the snow. In reality, since he is too young and fragile to do that, we stayed inside...clothed...in the warm. What a killjoy, eh?! This didn't go as well as I hoped because as the game went towards the end of the third quarter he dozed off. What the! How can you fall asleep knowing the Steelers are making a move to come back and win this game? He is sleeping, looking cute. That didn't hinder, every time the Pack would do good, his Aunt Scoop from running over and giving him baby high-fives and his mother making him do baby arm-pumps. I sure would like to know what he dreams about in a time like this, but I will tell you this - I found him this morning laying in a puddle of orange Gatorade, in his crib and confetti in his Pampers. This may have just been his greatest adventure yet!

You're a Rock Star

February 2nd, 2011

Something tells me that the reason people have been in and out of the house over the past two weeks is not because I have changed our brand of kitty litter to the sweet aromatic Fresh Step or that I have drawn a new mural on the giant chalk board in our living room. I will even venture to say that no one even cares that we have a new item added to our Packer room (the new 2011 NFC Champions plaque.) Every time people come over, they bring food or presents, hand it to Ang and then grab Ryan. I stand to the side in utter confusion. How can they walk right by the Packer room, make a bee-line past the DaVinci worthy mural and find the tiniest person in the house? My cat weighs 3 times that kid, look at her....make goo-goo faces at her. So my mission is to try and work in all my new things, I have for show and tell, into the "adult" conversation between Ang and the visitor. It usually goes something like this:

Visitor: "oh, he is so cute, i think he looks like Chris."

Ang: "he is cute, I wonder if his eyes are gonna stay brown or turn colors"

Me: " yeah, I know"....(inner monologue)...look at my packer plaque!

Visitor: "His toes are so long!"

Ang: "I think he will be able to pick things up with them when he is older like I can!"

Me: "I heard Arron Rodgers has long toes, have you seen my packer plaque? Yeah, it is in the other    room, just past the mural, I drew, with chalk, cool huh?"

Visitor: "i love his full head of hair!"

Ang: "i can't believe he hasn't had any fall out yet"

Me: Can you smell that, it is the sweet smell of Fresh Step kitty liter...nice eh?"

Ang: (rolls her eyes and shakes her head) sighhh!

After my many attempts at show and tell I figure out that I just can not compete with this kid. He has it all, cool clothes, the James Dean shy act, a full head of hair, the ability to make the room laugh and say awwww (in a sweet manner, not like they do for me as if to say awwww, he must be special) Nope this kid has it all, the works-he is a rock star. As i sit aside holding my packers paraphernalia in one hand and chalk in the other I see that I need embrace the situation and not be jealous. So i will kick back and bask in his Rock Star spotlight. I just hope the next set of visitors do not think his Packers plaque-necklace and mural pajamas are too much.

 (See all his visitors below)

 

Bath Time, Sweet Prince

January 30th, 2011

Can you remember the times in which someone has ever bathed you? (keep it PG please) No? That is because as far as any of us can remember we have always bathed ourselves. There are only 4 reasons that someone else should ever give you a bath: you are a baby, you are in a nursing home, hospitalized or you are pre-twenty first century royalty. Well, I think that Ryan thinks he is royalty and not the baby. Why? Well he is obviously not hospitalized and he is much too young to be in a old folks home. That only leaves he is a baby or he is royalty. If he were a baby then he would fuss during the bath time. He should fuss because he is naked and wet and being held weirdly. This is just not the case. I really feel he thinks he is royalty. He looks at me as if he is saying "wash behind my ears good man....oh yes, be sure to wash my hair...all of it, and DON'T GET WATER IN MY EARS!.....what is the matter with you, get the boogers out of my eyes!" Plus, he is constantly having pictures taken of him as he is getting his bath by the Momarazzi. We do enjoy the no fussing. He is so cute and we get a chance to know him more each bath we give him. I guess no matter what the case is, he is worth every picture and every Spock-like eye gazing command. So as we dry him off in his array of towels with cute animal hoodies, we look forward to tomorrow where we have another chance to say "it is bath time, sweet Prince!"

The Great Escape

January 27th, 2011

We are home and trying to get settled. Unpack, love on a cat or three, try and rest....finally. Little did we know that from Saturday through Tuesday evening that we were only going to have a combined total of 5 hours sleep. Man we are tired! As the evening sets we realize lil' dude has been sleeping all day. Crap he is going to be up all night....wake him....wake him, WAKE HIM NOW!  Too late, it is 3am and no one has slept. All the days have been like this, we MUST find a routine or call the guys with the straight jackets now - I'll have the tapioca please doc. We attempt finding a routine. The routine we have landed on is one in which we take shifts with him in our arms for a couple hours in between trips to the Booby Buffet. In order to stay awake with him we have watched everything Comcast has to offer On Demand. Did you know you can watch new 30 Rock episodes and old episodes of The A-Team? We watch these shows because we discovered that finding a routine is not good enough, we must find an escape. An escape from the colic crying and the 70 trips to the changing station. Ah yes, the escape that makes the crying and poop worth staying up for - ON DEMAND! So as we stay up late nights and try to trick our little man into a routine of sleeping at night, we at least hope he is dreaming of B.A. Baracus jumping over alligators to escape the Mexican Military.