Missives continue to pour forth from South Dakota, where Big Daddy Whitebeard and his ol' lady, Sue, continue to whimper about a lack of updates to Max's blog. One must assume that in their luxuriant grandparenthood they have misplaced their memories of exactly how much time a baby demands, especially one such as Max, who though loveable is fussy. He does not deal well with being put down by himself. He needs to be near, and even then doesn't sleep as much as all the experts say babies sleep. Not even close. Which means we continue not to sleep much either, though it must be revealed that Garnette suffers more than me in this aspect. Because although I can take him off her hands, she has the power (actually a pair of powers) to soothe him. Mostly.
So we've been leaning hard on Kim and Todd for advice and emotional support, and reading a lot on Dr Sears' website. Dr Sears has a section about fussy babies, how some babies are simply wired differently and do not transition well from womb to world, from wake to sleep. Max does however transition quite well from quiet to loud. In fact, by Dr Sears' measure of high need babies, Max fits every marker nearly perfectly. He just needs love and attention. We can do that. I think. This morning I asked if there were any convents nearby where we could drop him off in a basket. Ha ha.
Few photos these days. There's not much to take photos of anyway except more of crying baby and of tattered parents.
And yet through this veil of desperate exhaustion we know there are good days as well as bad. The good days are great. His smiles are fantastic. Even when he wets 4 or 5 outfits in a 6 hour span, a baby smile can make all the shit worthwhile. But still it's tiresome. Stress filled. Exhausting.
Garnette got a nap today when he finally collapsed in the sling (the only place he really relaxes) for 3 hours or so. Later she told me she dreamed that she was helping a friend of ours with her baby. She was having Garnette help her "express" milk from the breast. Garnette was milking her friend. And the milk poured forth as from a tap. Considering the troubles we've had in this area, such dreams are horror and humor rolled into one. Just like real life.

What?! Speak up, I can't hear you!

So... it's been a while since the last post. Max has been keeping us busy. Is he intolerant of lactose or not? Is this formula o.k. or not? What about this other kind? We don't know. Sure we shopped carefully and the ingredients look good but maybe he should have the lactose free. Or the soy. Or maybe he's allergic to soy. It's a minefield of seemingly mundane issues that have a direct affect on Max's mood, and therefore on our continued challenge of sleeping.

On the up side Miracle Max turned 1 month old on sunday. He's grown at least another inch and seems to be gaining weight. He is a very hungry boy, hence the bizarre stream of consciousness debate regarding if and what kind of formula to give him. He's started smiling and sometimes mimics faces and responds to Happy Voice. In short, almost in spite of our clumsy, bumbling struggle to learn how to read him, Max is a crawly, wiggly, screamy, happy, alien monkey boy. Go Max, go.

Miracle Max on the mic:


In other baby news, a few days ago our friends Bernie and Angie had their second boy, Lennon. All reports so far indicate everybody is doing well. What a nice Christmas gift.

Auntie Kim's birthday was yesterday, and we were invited over for dinner, so we went. It was grand. Max wore his new sweater knitted by grandma Diane. Max did not choose to hold still for the picture.



Max got to see his cousins Izzi and Xavier. We had tacos for dinner. Izzi made the guacamole. Xavier ate a lot of chicken. In fact both these kids ate a lot, and they're not that old. This makes a certain reality hit home. Still...



And that's that. Makes you feel all good inside. It is that time of year, after all. So hoist a mug of wassail and be kind and good to each other. Merry Christmas everybody!

Bathtime




Yes, tonight was bath night, and the warm water once again soothed the kicky beast. Bug got in on the act, checking out the tub early.


Obligatory baby in the tub shot:



Version 2:



Later, Max was installed into his NASCAR designed baby driving suit, made of fire retardant Nomex.

Strangely it is not water proof and he changes driving suits several times a day sometimes.

The last several days have been a whirlwind in slow motion, with lots of diapers.
Grandma and grandpa Kuznia left, then grandma and grandpa Corson came and stayed a day before leaving to beat a winter storm (with more visit coming after Christmas, when they drive up with Max's uncle Schuyler and his younger son Ben).

Mom did more knitting than is indicated by this photo.
The temperature was above freezing for a few days, then plunged down as a front moved in. It was 38F yesterday. It was -6F this morning (before the extra 15 or so degrees lower figured for windchill). And it's been either snowing or blowing here for days, so I keep going out to shovel.
And then as if by magic (or sheer persistence) Max turned 3 weeks old yesterday! He's growing some we think but it's hard to tell. Looking at pictures seems to show some difference in his face.
This one was Dec 11:

And this one is yesterday:


These days he's been making funny faces. And angry ones. And thoughtful ones. And looks that make us think the lights are out entirely. Today he's making screaming face quite a bit. He's sleeping more at night. Some nights. Last night. It changes around. He's also hungry almost constantly the last few days. Everything's different. Everything's the same. We loved having people and we like having the house to ourselves too. Life doesn't wait, and jobs must be kept up with, and babies tended to alike. This has been my desk lately. My job is being great about letting me do as much work as I can from home. But it won't last forever.

And daily living. The simple things like making a meal without help at all. Even a bad one. The neighbor across the alley told me the other day he has a pregnant daughter suddenly living at home. He's 56 and about to be raising another baby. He's recently updated the garage, fully insulated, with a heater.
The future beckons. What to do? Well, this guy:

Sends this advice:

Finally the new camera arrived. Our old one died the day Max was born. Guess he has the same effect on electronics that his parents do. But now I've been messing around, getting in peoples' way taking pictures.
Floyd and Nettie are still here visiting. They leave tomorrow. It's been nice having them here. Tonight we all sat together after dinner and watched Fortune Wheel.



As for Max, he sleeps his days and stays up at night. This has made for some very long nights recently. He does this a lot:

But he also does this a lot:

So it all evens out.

Concerned Citizen G. Grant, aka Big Daddy Whitebeard, writes:

"Andy,
You are going to have to speak to that boy of yours. He hasn't added
anything to his blog since Dec 3. Nearly 1/4 of his life has passed,
and his followers and supporters haven't heard from him. Inquiring
minds want to know. I suppose that Max has just been sleeping away his
days rather than getting up and tending to business.
Jeff
"

True. Max has in fact been sleeping much of his days away. It's at night that he stays awake. But he continues to grow. Garnette's mom and dad, Floyd and Nettie Kuznia, are here for a few days, and Nettie says he's definitely putting weight. You can see it in his face and legs. And did I mention he grew an inch in his first ten days? So that's good. Coming soon: grandma & grandpa Corson.
Max's 2 week birthday was yesterday and he has begun to get concerned looks on his face, like a supreme court justice deliberating cultural ideals, and then he poops. But he also looks around, is interested, follows movement, and likes having people around. The voices interest and calm him. Go Max, go.
There is a funny story about the photos, which will be updated soon. Well, maybe not funny. Not ha-ha funny. And by soon, I mean Any Day Now.
Dinner tonight: Venison sausage (venison bagged by Uncle Mike Kuznia), broccoli, and safron rice.

As mentioned previously, Max is a kicky boy. He doesn't like to wear socks. He kicks them off. He also is showing the beginnings of crawling, pushing with his feet and worming his way up my sweater when we lay down. So it was funny to hear Dr. Mackey exclaim what a vigorous baby he is when we visited her today... our first foray out together as a family. He did good. All systems normal. We're tired and happy.

Well Max, you're 8 days old today, and things change so rapidly. You reveal yourself more everyday. We've learned these things about you:

You do not like to be swaddled because you want to move your arms and suck on your fingers.
You are more awake at night than during the day.
You love to be held close, so you like your sling but don't like the cradle.
You are interested, aware, and interactive already.
You are a kicky baby, and a wiggleworm. You will not be contained.
You like us and feel better when you are near us.


We've also learned these things about ourselves:

Those loads that weighed so heavy were so easily let go.

We're totally in love. This mortal coil never seemed so beautiful.