Pay no attention to the moose behind the curtain

We’ve just returned from spending two hours picking out curtains. Who knew there was so much to learn? Like how your curtains need to be twice as wide as your windows so they bunch up right? Stop me, I’m scaring myself.

Ryan was a captive audience throughout our education. He sat in his stroller content as can be and haggled with the saleswoman. She wouldn’t drop the price until he threw in some formula. And we’ve also (possibly) picked out a new living room furniture set. The only stumbling block is the fate of my beloved recliner.

The Moose lodge makeover continues!

Beware of falling moose

Gina got the results of her MRI: her lower back’s in bad shape. She remains disappointed that she can’t just get a new bionic spine, but is determined to get proactive about taking better care of herself.

I continue to punish my own back by repainting the ceiling. I was up on a ladder finishing the kitchen till 12:30 this morning. Gina has come to recognize the obsessed look in my eyes, and only asks that I don’t take a header from paint fumes and fatigue. I think that’s an entirely reasonable request. Especially since, for the time being at least, she can’t pick me up.

All shook up

Ryan’s starting to enjoy his newest toy, the bouncing activity center. He stands in a pair of large bungee shorts in the middle of a saucer of toys, which lets him jump around while he spins to whichever station he wants. At first he was wary of it after he got one of his arms wedged in the shorts, but now that he’s bigger with more motor control, he’s getting into it. Yesterday it provided a good half hour of infant entertainment, until all the bouncing sent globs of formula spraying in random directions. They should really warn against using these things too soon after mealtime.

Big Mac, Lil’ Star

Gina’s with Angie and Amy seeing Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, while I’m at home with Ryan playing Papa Moose and the Bottomless Baby. He was hyper and happy until he woke up from an abbreviated nap. Then he was mister crabby pants, even after he slammed down his bottle. A bowl of cereal made him revert to his usual charming self, but upon scarfing the last spoonful Ryan still was opening wide. When the porridge stopped coming, so did the smiles. I hightailed it to the kitchen.

A second batch managed to tide him over long enough for us to run to McDonald’s. I sat Ryan in his bouncy chair and put The Jungle Book on, which is the first time I’ve tried to placate the baby by popping a movie in. He split his attention between the cartoon and gazing at my fries. The squash we started him on today must not have been as enticing.

Ryan’s in his swing at the moment. His eyes are closed but his fists are raised. If he’s going down, he’s going down fighting. Wish me luck. I’ve got to pull out his binky.

Five months later

Here’s my two favorite peeps in front of our freshly-plastered wall. I thought I’d picture it for posterity in case I’m compelled to paint it again. 

Hard to believe it’s been five months since Gina delivered our little doughball. She’s looking a bit more peppy here than on that particular night, but no less beautiful. And Ryan, what a blessing you’ve been.

Now stop growing up so fast.

Fast and furious

Ryan’s been showing some frustration drinking his bottle lately, so Gina thought the time had come to upgrade our equipment. Nipples come in speeds (who knew?) depending on how fast their flow is, and the brand we use comes in “fast” or “slow” (don’t know what happened to “normal.”) There’s also standard vs. wide sizes when it comes to the bottles themselves. Apparently most of the scientific progress of the last forty years has come in bottle technology.

With no “normal” speed to segue to, we switched Ryan to the fast nipples. Gina gave him the first one, and he guzzled the six ounces. What usually took around 15 minutes was gone in under five. He may as well have tossed the nipple aside and chugged the bottle instead. We pictured him in a baby frat with spit-up on his shirt.

We’re hoping he learns to pace himself and slow it down a little. At least until the nipple labs come out with “supersonic.”

The things we can’t explain

Mom called last night with the news that Suzie lost the baby.

Gina and I had a scare early on when she was expecting Ryan. Gina was spotting bad enough that we both assumed the worst. I remember sitting in our OB’s office waiting for the doctor in tears. When we were told that the baby was fine, mixed in with the gratitude and relief was the thought that losing a baby has to be the saddest thing in the world.

My sisters Mary and Jenny and my sister-in-law Brandi all suffered miscarriages. I was upset for each one of them, but now that we have Ryan I took Suzie’s news particularly hard. Losing a baby is hard to reconcile with the idea that God has a plan, but all we can do is trust that His wishes will be revealed in the fullness of time. Just as Mary, Jenny and Brandi were all blessed with children after their loss, Gina and I are confident that Sue and Randy will be, too.

As Suzie’s big brother I still feel compelled to protect my baby sis. Unfortunately there are some things in life I cannot defend her from. Suzie, know that we love you and everything’s going to be okay. Our thoughts and prayers are with you and Randy, and we look forward to the day you call with happy, blessed news.

“Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs.” — Luke 18:16

Must spam Moose?

So far, my blog has been getting comments from three distinct groups: my friends, my family, and Russian spambots. I get a bogus comment trying to sell me something about every other day, and for some reason most of them are perpetrated by Soviets.

I’m curious why our communist friends have shown me so much interest. Is this what Glasnost and the fall of the Berlin wall have gotten us, the freedom to target parenting sites with offers of free Viagra?

So thanks for the comments, comrades. Your friend in the West wishes you great success in posting links on Google. But I don’t want to know how you lost 30 pounds in 30 days.

The snowball effect

Remember that one wall I was going to paint in the living room? And how I then felt compelled to repaint the ceiling? Well, I’m also going to plaster the three other walls. Which I pretty much knew going in . . . I couldn’t just redo one wall and leave the other ones alone! No, I’m afraid I’ve opened Pandora’s paint can and there’s no closing it yet.

Beyond that, Gina and I have decided to rearrange the furniture. So today after work, our couch traded spots with our entertainment center. Now there’s talk of a new sofa, bookcases and curtains.

I’ve brought this on myself.

Riding in style

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about!"

Ryan’s exceeded the height restrictions on his infant car seat already, so we’ve had to upgrade to his super-deluxe stage two mini recliner. I spent an hour in the driveway tugging on its straps to make sure it was safely secured. He has to sit in it facing the rear of the car until he’s a year old, but Ryan doesn’t know how good he has it. In my day, a rear-facing seat meant watching oncoming traffic in the back of the station wagon. The thing looks as plush as my beloved La-Z-Boy and even has a cup holder. The stage three seats must have MP3 players and heated massage.

Ah, to be four months old again.