It has been a while since the last update. Max turned 8 weeks old last sunday! 8 weeks! I guess they all do that. But it feels like a real accomplishment. Max is a really alert baby, and he's interactive and smiles a lot, but he also continues to have issues. Sleep continues to mostly elude us. G hasn't had a stretch of sleep more than 4 hours since he was born. Actually 4 hours is a rare treat; usually she only gets an hour or two at a time. She's getting maybe 5 or 6 hours of sleep every 24 hours. Max is getting only slightly more. I'm getting about as much as Max. Is the problem that he isn't getting enough to eat, so he doesn't sleep well? Or is he not sleeping so then he has trouble eating? Today was his 2 month check up with Dr. Mackey, and she assured us it's some of both. While he has gained weight he hasn't gained as much as she'd like, so it looks like the diet is the egg. Or the chicken. Someone remind me which came first. We'll be going back to supplementing his diet with formula. We're hoping he doesn't give up on the breast, but getting enough to eat is the most important thing. Hopefully this new feeding plan will help that. At least I'll be able to give him a bottle and let G get some sleep.

But that's our obsession, and things are good overall. I did have to ask someone yesterday what month it is. Seriously. Needless to say we have not been focusing our attention on getting pictures taken, but we do have a few. More later. I think.

Oh Max, we love you so much. We will walk you around the house as long as you want, and you can cry as long as you need to. You're the most amazing little guy, and you're so very sweet. When you smile you light everything. I can't say it enough: we love you so, so much.

Socks:


Max and Mommy:


Bright eyes:

This goes out to Sue, who brought a tear to my eye today simply by saying:

"Dylan's birthday today was a great success. We have pictures of Justin sitting on his father's head, grandpa reading stories, and Dylan with his hands in the birthday cake frosting. How can you beat a day like that.
Relax. You too will sleep one day. I hope it may happen soon."

What the hell?! So for having the power now as then to stun me with her wisdom, I send this out to Sue, and to Jeff and Dave and Mary and mom and dad and little babies who smile when you kiss them.

Good evening. This is your Flight Control Captain, Max Corson. Thanks for flying with us today. Our airspeed is just under 7 weeks and we're flying at an altitude of Cloud 9.
I wanted to let you know that we've got a little more turbulence ahead of us, so I've turned on the fasten seat belts sign. We'll be out of it in no time, but until then, please return to your seats and fasten those belts.
Sit back, relax. We'll have you on the ground just as soon as we can.

Crew take your seats.

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: