Boo!

Put your scary face on!  I did!

2 Months

As perfect evidence that parenthood is busy, this post is 2 days late.   Did I attempt to start this post prior to the 28th so that I could have it ready in time? Of course!  Did I ever finish it so that I could post it? Of course not!  It's surprisingly hard to type when there's a baby between you and the keyboard.  

Our little Abe is 2 months old.  In the last month we've slowly watched his personality emerge and have tried to keep track of all the fun(ny) and not so funny moments we've been having.  Here are a few from the last month:
 

Cry me a river
Why certain methods for getting a baby to stop crying work some times and not others is beyond me.  We swaddle, swing, shush, put him on his side/stomach, sing, and many combinations of so many other things only to find that he suddenly stops a crying fit once you're standing on one foot while reaching an itch on your shoulder or some other pretzel like stance which you no longer want to move from because supposedly "he likes this".  (excuse the run on).  When there's sudden silence, Matt and I flash each other the "Don't. Move." look.

Bloody Lullabies
Then there's Grandma Teofy.  Boy does he love his grandma.  He could be screaming and the moment he's wrapped up in Grandma Teofy's arms he calms down.  She rocks and swings him for a good five minutes while singing some old hymn and he's out cold.  Out of all the hymns you could choose, without fail, my mom chooses the ones that focus on the crucifixion of Christ.  Without fail, I've overheard my mom rocking him to sleep to "Old Rugged Cross" or "Rock of Ages".  We're not sure if he's comforted by the warmth and coziness of grandma's arms or that songs about Christ's sacrifice on Calvary give him the reassurance he needs to drift into a drowsy sleep.  Every now and then she throws in a "Kumbahya" but it surprisingly takes him longer to calm down.  Signs of early appreciation and reverence for the Gospel story, maybe?  All we know is that his lullabies are so far removed from "Rock a Bye Baby".

Lock me up... I'm crazy
One of the first tasks that a first time parent learns is how to swaddle-- aka baby blanket origami-- and if you don't get it exactly right or just tight enough, then your folding efforts are worthless.  When the swaddle is perfect, it's shocking how quickly Abe calms, but, if you read my last post, you'd see that our sneaky little Abe is an escape master.  I've come to really love the swaddle sleep sacks that do all the work for you and keep him bundled up with the genius use of some velcro straps.  The best part about those (other than the fact that he can't escape out of them overnight) is when I finally release him for his diaper changes.  Not only does he already look like a prisoner in a straight jacket, but when that velcro comes undone, he stretches out like he's finally being let out of his jail cell for yard time.  He sighs, stretches out as far as he can, then gives me the "yeah, I know I only have a few minutes of freedom" look. 

Number Twos
You'll come to learn that some of my favorite stories to tell have to do with bodily functions.  C'mon, let's be honest... farts and poops are funny.  In the last month, Abe's farts have transformed into big-human farts.  The ones where when you're holding him, they erupt with such resonance that you look at him and think "That was you, right? Right?".   (For the record, he always looks back at me with the "who me?" look.)

The other day, Matt was holding him and our friend thought Matt let one rip and Matt stood there trying to defend himself while Abe innocently stared off into the distance as if he was too busy contemplating the meaning of life to so disruptively pass gas. 

After a consistent series of those rumbles, they're almost always followed by the sound of pipes gushing.  A more recent addition is his pausing to strain.  One time, I was feeding him, and he stopped to make the straining sound for almost a whole minute.  Silence. Gush.

Hide & Seek
When I finally get him to go to sleep, I try my best to get things accomplished-- like eat or shower.  In the world of motherhood, finding that time is akin to a unicorn sighting.  On the rare occasion that I can shower (aka "rinse") in the middle of the day because he is in such a deep trance, I try to go as quickly as possible.  Yet, often, my shower is disrupted by his feeble cries of loneliness.  I had to run out of the shower, dripping wet and naked, drag his bassinette into the bathroom and convince him that although he can't see me, I'm still there.  It's like a bad game of hide & seek.  Between shampooing and soaping, I've probably opened the shower curtain 4 times, waving at him, and saying "I'm here! I'm here!". 

Nothing is Clean

In the last 6 years of marriage, Matt and I had never washed our couch cushions.  I know, gross, but they got an occasional vacuuming. Finally, we unzipped the covers of the cushions and threw them in the wash.  As if Abe already has a developed sense of malicious humor-- minutes after placing the cleaned covers onto the couch cushions, Abe has the spit-up moment of a lifetime all over them.  Sigh.


Paparazzi!!!
I've had a handful of people tell me that I don't post enough photos of Abishai.  As. You. Wish....

Ninja

Being half-asian, I would assume that Abe would inherit typical asian (specifically Filipino) qualities-- big flat nose, dark brown skin, the love of noodles and rice, and, eventually, poor driving skills (hopefully the caucasian in him overrides that last quality).  Well, he got the flat nose (although time will tell if a bridge actually comes in), not sure yet if he'll like noodles/rice, but, so far, he has pretty light skin. 

I did not, however, know that he would inherit some pretty Japanese qualities... mainly the fact that he's a ninja.  In more ways than one.

Swaddle Ninja
No matter how tightly you wrap him in his swaddle- and sometimes I think it's so tight the kid can't even breathe- he'll wake up, every now and then, with one arm out.  During the latter half of my pregnancy I had many ultrasounds, but we were never able to see his face because he always had one arm over it.  We know he doesn't like the feeling of his arms flailing around, so we swaddle him.  But then he's upset that he can't put his arm over his face.  Pick your battles, kid.

Pajama Ninja
Footie pajamas are awesome! They keep your entire body, including all extremities warm.  Plus they're super comfortable... unless you're Abe.  This hasn't happened too many times, but somehow he's managed to ninja his legs up and out of the leg slots.  And, with the frog feet that he has, it's a challenge to get him to stay in the "foot" part of the pajama.  But once he's in-- he's golden.

Last, but not least, and my favorite part to tell...

Poop Ninja
(Is it obvious that I built this entire post mainly so I can write about this?)
As a first time parent, the learning is constant and sometimes comes in the most interesting packages.  On top of learning how to nurse, bathe a baby, and prepare a bottle -- changing a diaper was a fascinating new arena of knowledge.

Placing a diaper on Abe is like trying to put underwear on an attacking ninja.  Imagine trying to make nice with a kicking assassin whose throwing stars are poop and nun chucks spray urine.  Sounds like bad anime, right?  Our little poop ninja's greatest defense, however, is the infamous geyser poop. 

geyser poop (n.)  a bowel movement released in such a violent manner that a column of excrement is sprayed into the air--similar to the forces of a boiling geyser.

He's cunning too.  He lays on the changing table with such calm over his face, waits till you've almost completely cleaned him (usually it's just pee), and as you go in for the last wipe.... WHOOSH... a geyser of poop!  Sometimes it's even multiple gushes.  Essentially, he blitzes you with his bowels and, without fail, laughs and smiles in victory.  He wins every time and with the culminating joy and laughter on his face you can't help but laugh and smile with him.  What a pooper.

Guilty as charged... here's our little pooper caught after one of his feces felonies.