What was once innocent, inoffensive and even endearing, has now become repugnant, tenacious, and…stinky.
Who knew sweet potatoes could so change my life?
Last week, Dr. Katy told us that Ian’s 15 pounds and 27.5 (but really 28) inches were our cue to introduce him to solid foods. He can laugh, roll over, and grab hair - now, he can also eat creamed peas. Which leads to the digestion of creamed peas.
He actually took to solid foods quite well. It took him a while to realize that you don’t get much from sucking a spoon, and that feeding now takes a little patience. He doesn’t, however, understand that his face is covered with bananas because he has no fine motor skills.
Before his food came in jar form, Ian’s diapers were almost a pleasure to change. He’d smile, giggle, and squeal with delight at being Luvs-free. Kelly and I would tickle and play with him, and if a little something got on our clothes or fingers or elbows, well, it was only really breastmilk.
All of the books Kelly read and classes we took told us that a baby’s diaper has no odor. It’s not really true. A baby’s diaper smells, it just doesn’t smell bad. Kelly swears - and strangely enough, I find myself agreeing - that Ian’s diapers smelled like buttered popcorn. We didn’t get hungry, or anything. Whatever the smell, changing a diaper can’t be anything but changing a diaper. But it was as though God wanted all of my senses to be involved, pleasantly, in this wonderful bonding experience with my son.
Ian and I have bonded, and we’re out of popcorn.
As an overall experience, I still love changing Ian’s diaper. It’s something I can bring to mind, and I get a wonderful sense of fatherhood and love and the wonder of life.
It’s the details that get me. One detail, in particular. I change Ian’s diaper, and I get a sense of “faugh!” and “ewww!” and “what did you eat?!”
Natural gas is given an odor so that you can detect it. It’s not an original idea.
Sunday morning, Ian was baptized into the family of Christ - finally. We waited until we were closer to family, and thankfully everyone was able to make it. It was none too soon - Ian had begun to cry during prayer at church.
His was the only baptism that morning, and he felt very special. He was wearing a white suit, which barely fit - on Friday, Ian was measured at 27.5 inches…97% for length in his age group. I wore a charcoal grey suit, which barely fit - it was given me when I was 190 pounds…I now weigh 160 pounds. His mother was wearing camel slacks and a burgandy top with a brown jacket, all of which fit perfectly.
We carried a very unconscious Ian to the pulpit, and a wave of “Awww” swept through the congregation. The ceremony was wonderful, except for my missing a cue to answer one of the pastor’s questions. I get nervous. He then made sure to look me squarely in the eye after each question.
Ian slept through the entire baptism. He woke during the sermon, where he decided to add his own theological take on making promises and telling the truth. This is the first time he’s talked in church; before it was just sleeping or crying. Watch out, Central Pres!
Last night I watched, belatedly, last season’s finale of ‘The West Wing’. The episode first aired two days before Ian’s birth; I was working with our church’s youth group, and Kelly was home resting.
For those who don’t follow the show, this is the episode where Toby’s twins are born. He’s very somber, cynical, and brusque - probably my favorite character. He confesses to Leo that he’s worried he won’t be able to love his children as, so he’s been told, all new fathers do.
Before Ian was born, everyone told me that having a child would change my life. Nothing would be the same, my priorities would change, sleep late now, so on, and so on. Toby had heard the same things, but he was worried that he didn’t have the capacity for fatherhood. I just took them for granted. Of course having a baby would change my life. Of course my priorities would change. What sort of moron would I be to think that my life would continue as usual with a new baby?
When Toby visits the hospital to visit his son and daughter, swaddled in pink and blue, the first thing he says to them is, “I didn’t realize babies came with hats.” Such a mundane statement. So like a guy to focus on such an unimportant and mindless detail. When Ian was born, my first thought was, “Gee, what a little guy.”
But what we’re thinking - what we’re feeling - is impossible to put into words. It’s too much. How can a father accurately describe the experience of seeing his child for the first time? If we tried, we’d probably pull something. Which is why men say things like, “It’ll change your life forever” and “You’ll never be the same”.
I’m sure it’d be better if dads didn’t say anything to soon-to-be dads. Our advice comes across as naive and pointless, and all you can do in response is nod your head and say, “Yep.” But the experience of a child’s birth is so amazing, wonderful, awe-inspiring, miraculous, and a host of other inadequate adjectives, that we desperately want to share it with everyone we meet. We especially want to try and prepare soon-to-be dads for the sledgehammer of emotion that overwhelms you when you first see your son or daughter.
Which is why Toby’s banal statement made me cry.
President Bartlett asked him, “What do you know now that you didn’t know 45 minutes ago?” Toby replies, “Babies come with hats.” Bartlett chuckles and says, “Yes, they do.”
…is Ian’s latest nickname. Partly because he now prefers to play while we’re sleeping, but mostly because when we accuse him of this in the morning, he giggles and grins, and forces me to smile. Stinker.
His first official nickname was Professor Fussenberg. We’d only use this when he was unjustly (we felt) cranky. Full stomach, clean diaper, and a goofy face - what more could he want?! My mother-in-law once threatened to call him ‘Ippy’ when he was like this. It’s not much of a threat when you’re two months old, but he’d better behave himself when he brings home his first girlfriend. His mother assures me that your average thirty-year-old knows how to behave himself.
From day one I began calling him ‘buddy’. ‘Hey, buddy!’ ‘Aw, what’s wrong, buddy?’ ‘How ‘ya doin’ buddy?’ I started to feel like a bad Kramer impersonater, so I stopped. Kelly calls him ‘Eener Beaner’, which is fairly self-explanatory, and my father-in-law calls him ‘dude’.
Why do we even bother giving our children proper names?
We’ve only put Ian down a half hour before when he suddenly wakes up, screaming. This isn’t his usual “Hey, I’m awake and would like my breast now” cry. We can hear those coming. This is his Cry of Injustice - a quietly shrill, sustained wail that, loosely translated, means, “What did I do to deserve this?” This cry can break your heart. It’s reserved for pain, sudden surprises, and when we wake him after he’s only just fallen asleep.
But last night was different. This was a Cry of Ultimate Injustice, something we’ve never heard before. This was a cry designed to transcend all baby monitors. Something was very, very wrong.
I worry. A lot. I’m picturing Ian’s room, in flames, his ladybug curtains browning and curling at the edges. Or one of the cats, claws drawn, having finally decided to retaliate for a flailing left hook. Mostly I run because of things I can’t imagine.
He’s fine. The curtains are intact, and the cats are stationed at Ian’s bedroom door. “Where the heck have you been,” they accuse. I pick him up, and he downshifts to a whimper. I hold him close, stroke the back of his head, and whisper, “Shhh, shhh. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here.” I repeat this several times, trying to make up for the thirty seconds I wasn’t there. He burrows under my chin, and falls back to sleep.
I don’t know what happened. Did the roaring of a passing motorcycle from the pub down the block startle him? The dog next door? A bad dream? What does a 4-month-old’s bad dream look like? A cold bath. A bottle of formula. A too-tight onesie. Daddy going away forever, instead of 8 hours a day. That one hurts.
I guess the most distressing thing is that, whatever the reason, something was wrong, and Ian realized that we weren’t there to make it better - that he was alone. We can line his crib with ladybugs, paint a friendly sun on the wall, or hang a mobile above his head, but in the dark, they don’t matter. And even if he could see them, they still won’t help. The mobile just sits there, silent, still, and uncaring. He can’t even reach the faces smiling down at him.
I’m sorry, Ian. I really wish I could fix anything that might go wrong in your life, and I’ll try. But sometimes I won’t be there, mommy won’t be there, and you’ll need to handle things on your own. Your baby monitor will be replaced with a phone, and we won’t know that something’s wrong unless we hear your voice on the line. Please remember that we love you forever, and that whatever happens, God will always be with you.
Being the father of a four-month-old baby requires me to constantly invent new forms of entertainment. Success depends largely upon…well, I haven’t quite figured that part out yet. A colorful toy with flashing lights, whizzing dials, and thumping house music can make him cry, but gentle shaking of the bed sends him into fits of squeals.
He loves music. Right now he seems to especially enjoy “The Hustle” - at least, he likes dancing to the tune of “The Hustle”. I’m not actually forcing him to do the Hustle. It’s a dance, right? He hates the Bee Gees. He likes “American Pie” (Don McLean version), “My God Is So Big”, “Puttin’ on the Ritz”, and “Rubber Ducky”. He really, really likes the organ, but until I get our stereo working, that’s reserved for Sunday mornings.
RSS stands for ‘Really Simple Syndication‘, and is a means by which you can automatically receive a website’s updated content without having to visit the site itself. RSS is most often associated with weblogs, but is also used by services such as Google News and CNN.
A website using RSS maintains a feed, which is simply a list of the site’s current content. When new content is added, the site’s feed is also updated, and other programs, called readers, are able to access this list and tell whether content has been added.
For example, this site’s RSS feed is kept here: http://totaldepravity.gilbertsrus.com/index.xml - ‘index.xml’ is the list itself. When I write a new article, that article’s title, text, and web address is added to this list. If someone knows the location of this list, they can use an RSS reader to see my site’s content without ever actually visiting the site.
RSS is a very convenient way to stay updated of your favorite sites without having to keep returning to those sites, when there may or may not be new content. CNN uses RSS, which means you can use an RSS reader to automatically retrieve new stories, instead of checking the site again and again for the latest news.
For example, I use a service called Google Reader. I simply save a site’s RSS feed in Google Reader, and each day I can see which sites have been updated, and read their new content in one place. I don’t have to bookmark my favorite sites, remember their URLs, or remember to visit them every day. Google Reader takes care of all of that for me. And since Google Reader is web-based, I can access my list of feeds from any computer.
To begin using RSS, you’ll first need to download or register to use an RSS reader. There are many options, and most of them are free: again, I use Google Reader, but Newsgator, Bloglines, and Rojo are other options.
Current versions of Firefox and Internet Explorer are also able to maintain your RSS feeds.
Once you’ve selected and installed (or registered with) your RSS reader, simply start adding your favorite sites’ RSS feeds. First and foremost, look for this symbol:
This is the standard icon for RSS feeds, and is generally displayed somewhere on a site’s sidebar navigation. It may also appear in your browser’s address bar. If you click the icon, you’ll be taken to a page that won’t mean much to you - you’re looking at the feed, which isn’t meant to be read by humans. Instead, copy that page’s URL to your reader. The reader will now watch that site for you, and keep you updated of new content.
RSS readers are also often able to discover a site’s RSS feed for you. In that case, all you’ll need to do is enter the site’s URL.
Many sites using RSS also include links to popular aggregators, which, when clicked, will automatically add that site’s feed to the aggregator. Newsgator members who find my site can click the Newsgator icon on the homepage, and my RSS feed will be saved to their account.
For more information about RSS, I suggest reading this Wikipedia article, which also contains a list of aggregators.
If you’re short on favorite sites, you can search blog directories like Technorati or IceRocket to find sites of interest to you.
If you have any questions, or need help with RSS, please feel free to contact me.
