Pumpkin Carving Night!!!!!

October 28, 2008

So when I was in the fourth grade I had to do a report on the preying mantis. Turns out the women bite the heads off their male partners right after they are impregnated. Just one of life's little lessons I learned at a very early age. Here was another lesson I learned at a pretty early age. If you screw around long enough - someone else will inevitably do your work for you.

I learned this in the fourth grade on said report. The person kind enough to help finish what I should have, aka sucker, in this case was my mom. If I recall what happened correctly - I half-assed my way through the old praying mantis report, with my mother critiquing it. I believe her response to my effort went something like "this piece of crap is what you are going to turn in? It's terrible, a second grader would have done a better job." Devastating. Instead, however, of having me rework my report (you know, and include research and maybe some facts rather than just random drawings of insects), mom cranked out the old encyclopedia and type-writer and got to work. No way in hell was I going to impinge the family name turning in that piece of garbage. I believe we got a B+ for our efforts.

The next year when my report was on Galileo Galilei, she didn't even risk me attempting to write the report. No, she figured I would just slow her down and went to went about the report with great vigor. I believe that year we received a B (standards are obviously higher in the fifth grade) with a note back saying "I am surprised by the breadth and depth of your vocabulary Alex. Not many 5th graders know the true meaning of the word antidisestablishmentarianism, which you so eloquently worked into your report."

Always one to strive to do better, Mom promised to double up on next years report. I should point out that I'm not sure she went through this kind of effort for all six of my other brothers and sisters, but then again - she probably didn't make their breakfast and pack their lunch everyday until they were 28 either. I can't tell you - you'd have to ask them.

The reason I bring this up is because I now see how this level of parental involvement and commitment develops. It starts small, but then eventually gets bigger and bigger until they are showing up at job interviews with you when you are like 36 vouching for his abilities.

So we had pumpkin carving night at preschool the other night - and I think I've discovered how it all gets started. Here's how it went down in the Keenan household. Julie asked Parker what kind of jack-o-lantern he wanted to carve. Since PK is learning about all sorts of shapes and sizes these days he said he wanted triangle eyes, oval nose, and a smiley face. Hell, even I can do that - and I am functionally retarded. So off we go to school, and I bring with me a steak knife and teaspoon. Turns out carving pumpkins is a lot harder than one might think.

I am trying to get Parker to help (that's just genius - give a steak knife to a three year old), but he was way more interested in looking for cars and trucks that were in the classroom. It suddenly became Daddy's project - it only looked like it was done by a four year old. We take our "jack-o-lantern" into the room where every other parent was. To say some people had perhaps taken their childs project perhaps a bit too seriously is perhaps an understatement. They brought a bevy of pumpkin carving tools (who knew they even existed?) - and if I am not mistaken, someone managed to carve a to scale replica of the Sistine Chapel. That was a good time.

One week Something like one million to go.

Oct 24, 2008

Okay, so we made it through our first week with Riley. I'm not going to say it was easy by any stretch of the imagination, but having already been through it once with Parker - I have to admit that we are at least a little less freaked out. But when you are only getting something like five hours of sleep in total broken up by a crying child, you just can't overcome being tired as hell.

Story of the week? Yeah - we have one. So last night we are trying to get ourselves ready because we are having some pictures taken today. We decide that we need to give little Riley a bath. Because he still has his umbilcal stump we have to give him a sponge bath. In an attempt to keep him warm and limit the freak out, I have the genius idea to hold Riley while Julie wipes him down. That way I can keep as much of his body covered and warm and uncover only what Julie is cleaning then. Of course I was also the rocket scientist who took off Riley's diaper. That may very well have been a mistake because as I was holding him - the little man took a dump on me. I actually wish I was kidding about that - but sadly, even I wouldn't make that up. I'm holding Riley in my lap and the next thing I know this yellow chunky crap is on my shorts. I was a little freaked, but I'm holding the little man -so it's not like there's actually anything I can do about. So I just sit there.....in shit. That rocked.

Other highlights. You forget just how small newborns are. I mean they are tiny. They are also like little furnances. I can't believe the amount of BTUs that little boy kicks out. You hold him and you just start to get really warm, which, of course, causes me to get wicked sleepy - so I end up falling asleep every time I carry the little guy. He's awake for about four hours of the day, which is totally cool. It's usually from 10am to noon and the (of course) 10pm to midnight. At least he's consistent about that. Anyway, even though he can only see like three feet in front of him it is so awesome to just sit there and watch him and he is just looking around trying to figure out what the hell he's looking at.

He has also managed to put back on all his birth weight and then some. When Riley left the hospital he had lost about 4oz and was 8 lbs 5oz (that was Saturday). By Monday when Julie went to the doctor he was already up to 8lbs 11oz, which made the doctor highlight that he didn't seem to have any problems eating (that's how you know he's a Keenan). The doctor also thinks he has reflux. A little early to worry about whether or not he would need medicine, but basically the guidance we have been given is to never lay him flat. Challenging, eh? But since we are lucky enough to now have a second child with this problem, it's all too familiar. Overall, the little guy is doing pretty well. Don't worry - we're still freaked and paranoid parents, but we're actually all adjusting pretty well.

We are actually a little more concerned about Parker quite frankly. Not that he isn't totally awesome with Riley, because he is. And he's had a great week with Julie and I both at home. But it's fair to say he has been doing a little testing of what kind of crap he can get away with these days. The thing is, I doubt it has anything to do with Riley. All of a sudden we have Parker under a microscope wondering if he'll do something different now that there is a sibling in the house. I think he's been doing this testing thing for awhile, but it's just now that we're all of a sudden worrying about how best to deal with it. That's good solid parenting right there. Spend all the time worrying about the three year old over the one week old.

One thing I will say is the boy has excellent taste in music. And while I won't actually tell him any of the words, because they are....well... vulgar - he has a new favorite song. American (I actually haven't told him the song is American Idiot - he doesn't need to know that).

Day Three

October 21, 2008

So we have been home about three days now with the newest one, and I can't help but make a couple of observations. We'll start with the little man first, because quite frankly he's easier to describe. As it turns out - the infants really only have like two organs on the inside. Lungs and a colon. It's like the rest of the little man hasn't really developed yet. He eats, he takes dumps, and he cries - literally in that order. I mean Julie is feeding him, and often during the meal you hear it coming out the other side.

That's not normal. I mean it takes even the best of us at least five minutes to work it's way through. This generally leads us to change the boy's diaper. I would say in the last five days we have probably changed six thousand diapers. And I would say that probably five thousand nine hundred ninety-nine have resulted in use of the other organ (lungs) by Riley yelling so much that he might actually become hoarse.

I mean when you are trying to change a diaper at four in the morning and the man is screaming his head off it gets just a little stressful. He's like a little eight pound ball of terror or "the smallest intimidating man". The boy does not like to be cold. He's cute as anything, and then when the diaper is stripped off all hell breaks loose.

I think it all works out in the end for him, since he tends to get his revenge by either peeing or pooping mid diaper change. I'd be okay with it except for the fact that just prior to him releasing his urine furry he opens up his eyes, looks up on us, smiles, and thinks 'change my diaper will you? Take this.'

Then he falls asleep and the whole process starts all over again in two hours. Speaking of sleep (was I speaking of sleep) - the boy has given us two nights of three hours of straight sleep. That's killer for a one week old because we're actually getting like six hours. Granted we spilt that six hours up with an hour or so of feeding and diaper changes, but still - six hours and we're psyched.

And since this will most likely change several times over the next couple of days, I have to mention how awesome Parker has been. He is totally doting on Riley. Offered to get his breakfast the other day when we told him Riley was hungry. "Okay, I'll get him Raisin Bran." I mean, seriously, what kid doesn't love the bran? He is also very gentle with him. Hopefully it's not because we've freaked him out or anything - because I really don't think we have. It's just been really fun to see. I actually think one of the things that's helping him adjust is the fact that Riley really doesn't do too much (other than cry and eat) - and since we're both home this week he is getting all kinds of attention. I mean Julie is able to get up and run around (slowly) and he and I are still kicking it Lord of the Flies style down in the basement - so he might be thinking "hey - mom and dad are both here, this is awesome!" He also totally gets gushed over if he looks at Riley nicely - he's probably picked up on that too.

Julie, however, is just starting to get used to a household full of boys. Two under four and one emotionally stunted. That's going to be a difficult household. Julie has this delusion that maybe someday at least one of the three of us will dress nicely, be ironed, and care about their appearance. I don't know about Parker and Riley, but it's not going to be me.

Hey - who know's more at 4am

Riley Alexander Keenan

October 17, 2008

Okay - so it's almost 11:30 Friday night, and I am totally exhausted after the last two days. But since I am at home (taking care of the little man (scratch that - his new nickname is now the big man, more on that later)) and I don't actually see me having another coherent thought for the next six months - so I'm just going to vomit up some thoughts on the day, just to have an (incomplete) memory of yesterday. So here goes (and I'll try to keep it brief, but we all know that's nearly impossible for me).

So the doctor wanted us at the hospital at 7:15am since Julie was going to be induced. We, of course, show up closer to 8. I mean, seriously - this kid is already late, and we are, or course, chronically late - so of course we show up for the birth of our own child late.

Anyway, we get all set up by like 8:30 and checked into the room and what not. And by about 10am the doctor comes in the room to get this show on the road. Julie had not really been having any serious contractions - so the doctor puts this gel on her cervix (I don't know how she did it because I couldn't look - I'm still troubled by a bunch of the stuff I saw over the last two days). Whatever -the gel works man. Within 20 minutes Julie starts having contractions. She was about 1cm dilated at 10 - and by 12 she was 3cm. This is where the shit really started to get surreal. The doctor now comes in and is going to break her water. Not only do I not recommend not trying that at home. If someone ever suggests it or is going to have it done - I recommend leaving the room immediately.

Again, I couldn't look because, well they were working down there - and I don't need to see that, but anytime you hear someone yelp "holy f'ing shit - that hurts!" and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it, well....that sort of sucks.

Anyway, the hoover dam that was Julie's cervix has now been broken, and all I could think was 'we're going to need more towels.' This was when the contractions really started to go crazy. They were coming basically every two minutes and getting pretty intense. Around 1pm the doctor came in to check her again, and got as far as saying 'Do you want an....' "YES!" 'epidural?'

I don't know who invented them, or how they even thought of it - but an epidural is quite possibly the greatest invention for any husband ever. Husband, you ask? Yes.

So at 1pm Julie was 4cm, and as the doctor was leaving he mentioned that as soon as she got to 5cm it was going to go fast. Of course we didn't think he knew what the hell he was talking about - because with Parker, she basically got to the hospital at 4cm and we were still there for 12 hours (including pushing for 4 hours (yeah - holy crap, right?)). So we basically settle in like we're going to be there for a while. Julie starts to doze off, I get a book out and start to read. At 2:30, the nurse comes in to check - and says that she's now 5cm, so things are going to start to happen. Right. By the way, is there some sort of world record for number of times violated in a 24 hour period? If there is, I'm guessing it's related to the birth process. Everybody seemed to be checking her out.

Anyway, after that measurement - I tell Julie she should try and get some sleep because we're going to be in for a long and pretty exhausting night. She tries to sleep, and I watch her contractions on the screen they have her hooked up to, sometimes just saying 'Wow. That was a big one. You don't feel anything? Amazing"

Finally at about 3:30 Julie calls the nurse and just mentions that she is feeling a lot of pressure 'down there,' and the nurse casually mentions that it's probably the baby. At 3:45 the doctor comes back in to do another exam and just says "okay, you're fully effaced and 10 centimeters. It's go time!"

The bed is like a damn transformer - it immediately changes from a relatively comfy sleeper to a baby making making. The bottom drops out - these feet things come up, and it's just like "bring it!"

4:00pm Julie starts pushing. I can't find the appropriate words to describe what happened, but Julie pushed for four hours last time and so we were not really looking forward to this, but the baby must have been hooked up to some sort of jet propulsion while sliding down a slip and slide, because the baby just came flying out.

And the doctor who had been very nice morphs into this drill sargent. "I WANT YOU TO PUSH AGAIN! NOW GIVE ME TEN SOLIDER!" Jesus, she scared the crap out of me - I started pushing.

Six pushes (which by the way means that I had to count to ten 18 times, nobody ever appreciates that) and at 4:13 the doctor yells. "Julie, give me one more good push, here comes your baby!"

It is amazing. There isn't another experience that even comes close, and I'm just watching and counting to 10 -it's not like I really did anything. I'm balling, Julies balling. It's just spontaneous eruption of emotion.

And I go and look at my new son. And he's blue. Head to toe. Blue everywhere. WTF? Jesus, we gave birth to an alien. Parker had maconian last time so he was whisked away pretty quickly - so I don't remember if he was blue, but this one was most definitely was.

It's totally okay. I love my blue baby boy (YOU MY BOY BLUE!).

He finally starts to turn a color that can at least be described as some human shade of pink - and he looks like a little old man. It is so adorable, I start crying again.

8 pounds 9 ounces. 22 inches long. Head 14 (i guess centimeters? who knows, maybe inches).

A nurse asks if we have a name, and Julie and I kind of look at each other and say:

"Riley Alexander Keenan".

I could not be more proud. And to watch Julie go through childbirth - all I can say is she in an amazing, amazing woman.

(riley helped out his name being born with glasses on, because that is a name that exudes a dude wearing glasses)

And this will annoy Julie forever, but he already has his own music video.

I have got to get some sleep, but I will eventually have to discuss the bubbling tar that is maconian. How is one even able to produce something so disgusting

Where is the baby?

October 13, 2008

Yea. We don't know where the baby is. Okay, that's a lie. We TOTALLY know where the baby is - you can hardly miss it. The issue is more the baby has barricaded itself inside Julie's womb. I mean we head down to the hospital and everything, you know, contractions and what not - and then a week later here we are with no baby. Not only that, but Julie went to the doctor on her due date and she hadn't progressed at all -no effacing (I can't even spell that) or dilating or anything.

Not that's it's frustrating or anything, but Julie managed to go through all seven stages of coping in about 6 minutes of Saturday. It was actually quite amazing. One would have thought it literally not possible. But to her credit, by the end of Saturday she had worked through her different stages by the end of the day she was finally at acceptance. I mean she apparently does everything fast including coping. But it's all good now - we have an induction scheduled for tomorrow. WOOOHOOOO. Lack of sleep here we come.

Although I have heard that when you have an induction it takes much longer - so we might have the baby sometime next week or something. At this point it's like who the hell knows.

One thing I do know, however, is that I went with the little man on the preschool pumpkin patch trip. That was really really fun. Got to go pumpkin picking and then go look at some animals. I also got a chance to see him interact with his little buddies in school. How does he do it? Well, it turns out he just stalks them. Seriously - it's almost as though he just follows them around until they start playing with him. It's pretty funny - and a little like 'whoa dude - take a break' He has one little buddy Wade - and while we were at the pumpkin patch and PK just kept walking around going "Where's Wade? Daddy, where's Wade? You can talk to Wade's daddy, and I'll play with Wade."

The only issue with that was that Wade really wanted to hang out with his dad - and so for the afternoon it was almost as though Parker became just another sibling in Wade's family. He went with them everywhere. Um.... Hello? Father/son bonding here Parker - how about a little of it? Nope - not interested in hanging out with Dad. Wanted to hang with Wade. He's three going on fifteen. It's all about the friends.

And, as you can see from the picture above. The pre-school does not encourage smoking for the little ones.

The weekend was craptacular! Thanks for asking

Oct. 6, 2008

So how was the weekend you may ask (okay, you might not have asked, but I'll tell you anyway)?

It was a suckfest. No other way to describe it. That's right a festival of sucking. I'm not going to say it was the worst weekend of my life or anything overly dramatic like that (the weekend I spent in jail during my visit to Singapore holds that distinction).

So we are hanging out on Friday night, and Julie starts not to feel so hot. You know it -- she's starting to have some contractions. So it's like 10:45 at night and we start timing them. They're coming something like every fifteen minutes. Finally we decide that they aren't getting worse - so we head off to bed thinking "maybe we can sleep them off" (we're not so smart that way - we probably should have done that about two hours earlier).

Anyway, Julie wakes up around 2:00 (yes, an hour of sleep) - and then wakes me up around 2:30 because the contractions have started to become more frequently and stronger. Now they're like every 5 to 8 minutes and they're lasting 30 - 40 seconds. That's actually starting to sound like, crap - this kid is coming. Around 3am we call the doctor (not unlike Hilary's 3am ad I suppose).

Doctor tells us that we should probably come in. This is really where the night went from pretty fun to AWESOME (with extra awesome). Now it's about 3:30 and we didn't want to be alone having all the fun. First up, Julie's parents - sure they may have been up in Boston at the time, and were probably totally asleep, but we weren't going to let 5 hours distance and a lack of sleep ruin our attempt to have them join our party - let's give them a call! So they immediately get in the car. Seriously - we called them back something like thirty minutes later and I think they were just pulling into their driveway. Amazing.

But we didn't want it to be just about family, so we also called Melissa. Granted we called her at about 3:14 telling her to take her time - and at 3:16 she was pulling into our driveway. Weird, you mention to people 'oh yeah - we're having a baby' and people seem to get their ass in motion.

So anyway, to make a long story even longer - we drag ourselves to the hospital at about 5 AM. Turns out the contractions between 3:30 and 5 have become rather erratic so we're not sure what's going on. Whatever, the nurses strap us in (I'm using 'us' in the figurative sense of course - I didn't actually get strapped to anything) - and puts the old contraction monitor on Julie so we can actually see them (you know, just in case I thought Julie was making them up or something). And there they are.......Contractions, and they're pretty strong, or at least that's how they looked on the old monitor thing. The nurse comes in, thinks they are legit (they're 5 min apart now), starts the paperwork and calls the doctor. Of course Julie keeps asking why they aren't hurting more (foreshadowing...)

Everyone keeps leaving open the possibility that we might not be staying, and no one will actually examine Julie until the doctor arrives, which were told will be "sometime this morning". I don't want to be a pain in the ass, but we've been up since 2:30 and we'd like some understanding of what's going on. So we're hanging out, waiting, Julie's having contractions, and I figure my job is done here, so I can just fall asleep. I'm supportive that way. Doctor finally shows up just before 10. By this time, Julie has her fuzzy socks on, I've gone out to get our 1 million bags, and we figure we're having a baby today. It has been 5 hours since we arrived, after all.

Now comes the internal exam. This is awkward for a husband to watch, particularly from the foot of the bed. Avert your eyes. Turns out her cervix hadn't thinned and she wasn't dilating... basically the baby had baricaded itself in there and had no intention of coming out. Since she wasn't 39 weeks yet, they wouldn't consider inducing (yeah... 2 days short). So they kicked us out, contractions and all.

So we're driving home, and its equal parts exhaustion and frustration. I get it. The baby's not ready. But the contractions are 5 minutes apart, and even though we're no longer in the hospital, it's not like they stopped. We're ready now baby. The room is painted and everything. The good news was, I did get home in time to take the little man to swim lessons. And for someone who was afraid of water a few months ago, he's becoming a little fish.

Here we are, a week later. In fact, almost exactly a week later since it's 10:50 PM. Julie has had intermittent contractions, cramps and general discomfort all week and basically stopped working. When laying around and relaxing didn't move things along, she decided to prune four bushes and clean out the rocks in the garden today. We'll see how that works out for us. But if this keeps going, we've got a lot of household projects to tackle. If nothing happens soon, I fully expect a finished basement. Next stop - doctor's appointment Monday when they'll schedule an induction for next week. Anyone want to guess the weight of this monster? Let's see... Parker was 17 days early and 7 lb 14 oz. I figure she's baking a 10 pounder by now.

Importance of Healthy Eating

October 2, 2008


Okay, the little man cracks me up these days. He's just able to string together whole consistent thoughts with an imagination. The other day (I wasn't actually here, Julie told me the story) - he was in his play room and he made breakfast for all of his NASCARs. Jimmy Johnson got eggs, Jeff Gordon got ham, and Kurt Busch got a tomato (a tomato? I guess he doesn't like him). But the whole thing apparently went on for like 20 minutes - he was just off on his own making sure his little NASCAR boys got themselves a healthy meal.

We're down in the jumper the other day just totally messing around. That's one of the things that's awesome about the basement. Sure, its cold as hell and there are no lights - but there are also no rules. So we're chucking balls around and basically destroying the place; and he's in the jumper, so I lob a ball at him. It hits him - and stuntman style he jumps up and goes flying back yelling "WHHOOOOAAAA!" It was so flipping funny. Know why? He sold it. He committed himself to the joke of being knocked off his ass.

The only issue about laughing when the little man does something really funny - he doesn't fully appreciate that after the 20th time, it gets a little old. He's still jumping back every time I throw a ball, but you know, it loses a little something the 40th time you do it.

I will say, one of the things that's a little awkward is he still wants to kiss on the lips. Buddy, we're Keenans - it's a him handshake and a thump on the back. That's about as warm as we get here. We don't do the whole 'kiss thing' And we totally don't to the kiss thing when you are sitting on the potty and have just touched your scrotum with both your hands. That's just messed up. I know, gross.

Although one thing that was touching this morning. It's possible I had a little zit on my forehead this morning. Apparently to Parker it looked like I had a little boo-boo, so he wanted to kiss it. Awkward! But then Cookie wanted to kiss it, then Jimmy Johnson. then a dump truck, and finally a cement mixer. The zit was getting a lot of sympathy, it felt much better.

So lastly, the little man LOVES the rock 'n roll. Julie says he likes it only because he knows I like it. But I don't think so. I offer up kids music all the time. He doesn't want that crap. He wants rock and roll. Right now his favorite song is Henrietta by the Fratellis. It's fast and you can dance to it. He actually requests, "Daddy, I want to hear Henrietta" So I don't know if this works, but I've even embedded it below. And lets face it. It rocks.