Jordan is finally done with the apnea monitor! Yesterday was the last day for the monitor after seven and a half months. I think in the last 2 months it has only gone off for loose leads. Even before that it was almost entirely false alarms. Either way, we are done with it now. We are finally done with all of his NICU equipment!
Jordan is starting to become a big boy, so we gave him something that big boys have. Jordan now has an 8pm bedtime. It has been very easy. He really doesn’t nap much during the day if you keep him busy so he is always tired at night. At night we just make sure he is fed and changed, give him a pacifier, and read him a story. After we put him in the crib he’s asleep in 5 minutes. I am going to miss this in 12 months when he’s a toddler.
Finally, we learned what the grandparents want to be called. This is weird for me. My parents are now grandparents with grandparents nicknames. Parents aren’t supposed to be grandparents. I’m 30 years old and my grandma is still Nana. Anyway, my parents are now NA-mah, and Granddad. My in-laws are MEE-mah and Pop Pop. They’ll always be ‘mom’ and ‘creepy old dude’ to me.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Fancy Footwork
I wonder if this camera tastes like the last one???
I know this blog is about Jordan, but furry dogs sleeping on their backs are automatically funny.
Now I am free to smoke next to the baby's crib. One of the true joys of parenting.
I just realized that when he takes his first steps, they'll be walking away from me.
He just realized that too. About another 6 months till freedom!
This one is really special to me. When we met with the therapists last month, they said that because Jordan was born so early he didn't spend as much time curled up in the womb as he should. Normally this leads to weaker abdominals. That means the babies won't be as willing or able to play with their feet. That means a delay in walking of another month or two. I don't know if he is at the normal time for feet play, but the therapist didn't bother to tell Jordan what he can't do.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Happy Mother's Day!
The mother's in Jordan's life. He is being held by my mother, my mother in law is in the pink shirt, and a very special mother is standing behind them.
My father in law is in the striped shirt, and that other guy is dressed like a tourist.
Yum! That camera looks tasty.
He ate too much camera.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Doctor No More
Went to see the pulmonolgist yesterday. Naturally, my boy kicked butt! The doctor said that once the baby is over the cold we can get rid of all of the oxygen in the house. I think since we already paid for the oxygen (OK, the insurance paid for it), that I might just close all of the doors to the bedroom and open up the valve all the way. We can make our own oxygen tent for one night. Sleep like we were Michael Jackson. Before you leave a comment calling me crazy, ask yourself if you have ever wondered what it would be like to live in an oxygen tent with your pet monkey. You’re just jealous because I have the opportunity – or at least I will once I get a pet monkey.
The doctor also said that two weeks after we lose (or use) the oxygen, we can get rid of the damn monitor. We celebrated last night by doing something we always wanted to do, but we never could. We let the baby sleep in a onesie with a zipper. In the past we always had to keep him hooked up to the monitor with the leads. We couldn’t have him wear a zipper onesie because the wires are not long enough to come out of the neck and he’d just pull them loose anyway. Last night, no leads so we got him to wear a zipper. He didn’t care, but we loved it.
The doctor also gave us more good news. We don’t have to see him again for four months! Yesterday was the first time I did that long drive to Jax in several months and I don’t know how we could do it everyday last summer. Anyway, we have to see the eye doctor at the end of this month and then we don’t have to drive to Jax to see a doctor until football season!
The doctor also said that two weeks after we lose (or use) the oxygen, we can get rid of the damn monitor. We celebrated last night by doing something we always wanted to do, but we never could. We let the baby sleep in a onesie with a zipper. In the past we always had to keep him hooked up to the monitor with the leads. We couldn’t have him wear a zipper onesie because the wires are not long enough to come out of the neck and he’d just pull them loose anyway. Last night, no leads so we got him to wear a zipper. He didn’t care, but we loved it.
The doctor also gave us more good news. We don’t have to see him again for four months! Yesterday was the first time I did that long drive to Jax in several months and I don’t know how we could do it everyday last summer. Anyway, we have to see the eye doctor at the end of this month and then we don’t have to drive to Jax to see a doctor until football season!
Friday, May 2, 2008
Guest Post
I got tired of doing all ofthe posts for this blog, so Jordan asked if he could take over for a day. Here's Jordan:
I Can't Imagine Why Anybody Would Want To Stop Crying
Life has so many wonderful experiences to offer. Like sleep. Or ingestion and evacuation. But I find life offers few opportunities more rewarding than screaming like a maniac until your voice cracks with the strain, so that the entire universe can share in your distress. That's what life is all about, right? The sheer exhilarating thrill of nonstop crying at the top of your lungs. It's such an important part of why we are here—why would anybody ever want to do anything else?
Don't get me wrong—I like squirming, drooling, and sporadically attempting to focus on colors and shapes as much as the next guy. But of all the various activities one can choose to pursue in life, crying is tops as far as I'm concerned. In my opinion, I find nothing is more fulfilling than a good steady holler. It takes no experience to begin, and within moments, all one's needs are instantly met! It's my favorite part of the day.
Heck, I'm crying right now!
I suppose some people might enjoy wasting their days with sleep or gentle cooing, but not me. No, sir. Not when there's all that fantastically loud crying to do. In fact, I love crying so much, sometimes I wish I could be awake 24 hours a day, just to hear the crying I miss out on hearing when I am asleep. I mean, I assume I cry in my sleep, too. Whoa. There's a strange thought: What if I stop crying for a moment when I'm asleep? That would be tragic.
Yes, there's nothing like a good, healthy, air-raid-siren-style bellow to renew one's red-faced passion for living. What you want, I've found, is to pitch your voice at about the decibel level of your standard jet engine and then hold it as long as possible before taking in air. That's the sweet spot right there. That's the ideal volume for a good cry—the kind of crying that isn't so much melancholy or sorrowful as it is a full-throttle roar of earsplitting shrillness.
It's so easy. Getting started can be as simple as being startled by your own hand.
In my opinion, anyone who isn't screaming his lungs out is just letting life pass him by. You'd think, after seeing how happy crying makes me, people would follow my example. But all around me there are tall, shadowy figures who seem to actively avoid the most pleasurable part of existence. Everywhere I look I see them: standing behind my stroller as they walk around town, or leaning in over me in my crib and making faces. Whole loads of people, not crying. Don't they realize what they're missing?
Look, I'm not a purist. I understand there are times when it might be perfectly acceptable to stop crying. Like when something is placed in your mouth for you to suck on. Or when somebody jiggles you for 40 seconds. Both are perfectly understandable and justifiable reasons to stop crying momentarily. But to be completely silent for more than, say, a minute? That's just crazy.
Take my parents, for example. If it wasn't for my tireless efforts, they'd sleep through the night! Can you believe it? I don't think it's because they're too old—I suppose I don't know how old they are exactly, but I can't imagine it's any more than, say, one. They've still got plenty of life in them. Yet they hardly ever cry, and when they do, it's usually softly, in the middle of the night, and exhausted-sounding. What happened to their lust for life? Don't they realize that every moment they waste sleeping, fiddling with the car seat, or holding picture books in front of my face is precious time they could be screaming their heads off?
How can I get them to embrace life and really make the most of wailing like a mythical banshee for hours on end?
I just don't understand these people—and not only because I have yet to grasp the concept of others as separate selves outside of me. Don't they know that all they'd have to do is take a good deep breath, let her rip, and the air would be filled with glorious noise? They can't be having a good time just sitting there, grinning slightly, and communicating through facial expressions and this bizarre series of coded grunts I have yet to decipher.
What do they spend their time doing? Comprehending spatial relations? I'd die of boredom in a minute. They must've been young once. Surely they can still remember the good times they had, splitting the very air with sonic knives of nigh-unendurable intensity. I would hate to think that someday I might be so jaded and cynical as to turn my back on wriggling and panting for breath, using every ounce of my being to emit a general, undifferentiated distress signal to all within earshot.
Spending entire days without crying? Why, it goes against the very thing that makes us human.
God, I hope I never become like them.
I Can't Imagine Why Anybody Would Want To Stop Crying
Life has so many wonderful experiences to offer. Like sleep. Or ingestion and evacuation. But I find life offers few opportunities more rewarding than screaming like a maniac until your voice cracks with the strain, so that the entire universe can share in your distress. That's what life is all about, right? The sheer exhilarating thrill of nonstop crying at the top of your lungs. It's such an important part of why we are here—why would anybody ever want to do anything else?
Don't get me wrong—I like squirming, drooling, and sporadically attempting to focus on colors and shapes as much as the next guy. But of all the various activities one can choose to pursue in life, crying is tops as far as I'm concerned. In my opinion, I find nothing is more fulfilling than a good steady holler. It takes no experience to begin, and within moments, all one's needs are instantly met! It's my favorite part of the day.
Heck, I'm crying right now!
I suppose some people might enjoy wasting their days with sleep or gentle cooing, but not me. No, sir. Not when there's all that fantastically loud crying to do. In fact, I love crying so much, sometimes I wish I could be awake 24 hours a day, just to hear the crying I miss out on hearing when I am asleep. I mean, I assume I cry in my sleep, too. Whoa. There's a strange thought: What if I stop crying for a moment when I'm asleep? That would be tragic.
Yes, there's nothing like a good, healthy, air-raid-siren-style bellow to renew one's red-faced passion for living. What you want, I've found, is to pitch your voice at about the decibel level of your standard jet engine and then hold it as long as possible before taking in air. That's the sweet spot right there. That's the ideal volume for a good cry—the kind of crying that isn't so much melancholy or sorrowful as it is a full-throttle roar of earsplitting shrillness.
It's so easy. Getting started can be as simple as being startled by your own hand.
In my opinion, anyone who isn't screaming his lungs out is just letting life pass him by. You'd think, after seeing how happy crying makes me, people would follow my example. But all around me there are tall, shadowy figures who seem to actively avoid the most pleasurable part of existence. Everywhere I look I see them: standing behind my stroller as they walk around town, or leaning in over me in my crib and making faces. Whole loads of people, not crying. Don't they realize what they're missing?
Look, I'm not a purist. I understand there are times when it might be perfectly acceptable to stop crying. Like when something is placed in your mouth for you to suck on. Or when somebody jiggles you for 40 seconds. Both are perfectly understandable and justifiable reasons to stop crying momentarily. But to be completely silent for more than, say, a minute? That's just crazy.
Take my parents, for example. If it wasn't for my tireless efforts, they'd sleep through the night! Can you believe it? I don't think it's because they're too old—I suppose I don't know how old they are exactly, but I can't imagine it's any more than, say, one. They've still got plenty of life in them. Yet they hardly ever cry, and when they do, it's usually softly, in the middle of the night, and exhausted-sounding. What happened to their lust for life? Don't they realize that every moment they waste sleeping, fiddling with the car seat, or holding picture books in front of my face is precious time they could be screaming their heads off?
How can I get them to embrace life and really make the most of wailing like a mythical banshee for hours on end?
I just don't understand these people—and not only because I have yet to grasp the concept of others as separate selves outside of me. Don't they know that all they'd have to do is take a good deep breath, let her rip, and the air would be filled with glorious noise? They can't be having a good time just sitting there, grinning slightly, and communicating through facial expressions and this bizarre series of coded grunts I have yet to decipher.
What do they spend their time doing? Comprehending spatial relations? I'd die of boredom in a minute. They must've been young once. Surely they can still remember the good times they had, splitting the very air with sonic knives of nigh-unendurable intensity. I would hate to think that someday I might be so jaded and cynical as to turn my back on wriggling and panting for breath, using every ounce of my being to emit a general, undifferentiated distress signal to all within earshot.
Spending entire days without crying? Why, it goes against the very thing that makes us human.
God, I hope I never become like them.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
If it isn't one thing, it's something else
The vomiting has become much worse. When it’s time to eat he takes about 7 or 8 ounces. We try feeding less, but he raises a ruckus. He is old enough to recognize his bottle, and old enough to recognize that hollering will get him what he wants. When we feed him 8 ounces, if we don’t lay him down for about an hour then he’ll give the food back. He doesn’t just spit up either. I’m talking about changing his bib, changing his clothes, and changing my clothes. Then he’s hungry again. Of course we will ask the doctor about this, but we don’t expect any answers.
Speaking of doctors, we heard from the pulmonolgist yesterday. After 10 months and many many thousands of dollars of oxygen, and thousands more in equipment, we can take Jordan off of the oxygen full time….just as soon as he recovers from the cold I gave him. In my defense I didn’t give it to him, he took it. When you carry him he tends to taste you. If he can’t taste you, he’ll touch you and then taste his hand. When you think about it, it’s amazing that he hasn’t gotten sick before now. Considering everything he’s been through in the past, his mother is handling it well. Neither of us is freaking out over this, but he doesn’t seem to mind having a runny nose, it just gives him something new to taste. I do have a hunch that the mama Ali won’t admit he’s over this cold for another 10 months.
Speaking of doctors, we heard from the pulmonolgist yesterday. After 10 months and many many thousands of dollars of oxygen, and thousands more in equipment, we can take Jordan off of the oxygen full time….just as soon as he recovers from the cold I gave him. In my defense I didn’t give it to him, he took it. When you carry him he tends to taste you. If he can’t taste you, he’ll touch you and then taste his hand. When you think about it, it’s amazing that he hasn’t gotten sick before now. Considering everything he’s been through in the past, his mother is handling it well. Neither of us is freaking out over this, but he doesn’t seem to mind having a runny nose, it just gives him something new to taste. I do have a hunch that the mama Ali won’t admit he’s over this cold for another 10 months.
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