Olive Poo Poo

Olive Poo Poo. No, I'm not talking about the color of something Abishai created during his latest potty training episode (although a potty training post is definitely forthcoming).  Olive Poo Poo is actually pretty awesome - it's the newest addition to Abishai's ever growing list of words and phrases, but since it's my favorite, I'll translate it last.

Other than Dada and Mama which have now transitioned to Daddy and Mommy, Abishai didn't really start using words (at least comprehensible words) until 13 months.  At 22 months, he is now extremely expressive. He impresses us sometimes with phrases that we are shocked he knows.  The other day he broke his bubble machine and the following conversation ensued:

Abishai: "Bubbles broken"

Me: "Yes, they are broken. Who broke the bubble machine?"

Abishai: "Abishai broke it." (pause) "Daddy, gon fix it!!"

Now whenever something seems "broken" to him, his go-to phrase is "Daddy, gon fix it"  with an enormous grin on his face.

Here are some of the fun tidbits out of the Abishai language dictionary/translation book:

"Ampa  & Amma": Grandpa & Grandma

"ans": (said post meal with palms up in the hair) hands, typically used to tell you he wants his hands wiped clean

"fowk" (pronounced exactly like the f-word): fork, sometimes "work"

"hum hum": used to express that he would like to eat or try whatever you are eating

"fies fies": french fries

"skeeeze": (said midst hug) to tell you he's "squeezing"

"bat": (said with syncopation at the end) bath

"ser ser & mok": cereal and milk

"kees": keys

"seeping": sleeping, typically used in the following sentence- "Baby Ope seeping!"

"wooking": working

"bru-ken": broken

and finally, my favorite...

"Olive Poo Poo": I LOVE YOU

Here's a video of him talking while trying to Skype with Ampa & Amma:

The sick world we live in

Last week a cold started brewing in my system.  I refused to be kept down, so I packed my body full of Vitamin C and started chugging down broths and fruits to send this sickness on its way.  But as a nursing mother, there's only so much you can do to protect your poor, helpless babe from inevitably contracting your gunk.  Sure enough, a few days later, the snot invaded his nose and his smiles transformed into a quivering bottom lip with the saddest, meekest cough.

Since Abishai is only 2 months old, I was hesitant to give him any medication so I took to my most trusted source of information--- Facebook moms.  Within seconds of posting that I had a sick baby, I had two moms already telling me their fail-proof remedies including hot steamy bathrooms, inclined bassinets, and a trusty humidifier.  Yet, there was one recommendation that stood out above all the others... the NoseFrida.

I immediately googled "NoseFrida" and watched a video on the website demonstrating its purpose.  I gasped.

It's a very simple contraption-- one long tube attached to a plastic cylinder that houses a filter.  The tip of the cylinder is angled for easy nasal passage placement, while the opposite end of the tubing can be placed in another individuals mouth.  The illustration on the box says it all. 

One after the other, my Facebook mom friends started raving about their success rate.  Nose aspirators were a thing of the past and an inefficient method of relieving baby mucus at that.  NoseFrida is the revolutionary new method and every mom is buying into it.

The next day, Matt headed to Whole Foods to buy this miracle mucus tool. Yet, I was still somewhat skeptical and, frankly, the thought made me sick to my stomach.  I kept at my little baby aspirator bulb for a few more days.  It didn't last long till the sadness and obvious congestion in Abe's nostrils kept him from even wanting to eat properly.  There it was.  Sitting on his dresser waiting to be used.  Waiting for someone to be brave enough to suck his snot.

Alas, with my own congestion to deal with, I couldn't properly suck and breathe at the same time.  Daddy to the rescue.  Matt had adamantly opposed being the NoseFrida sucker (pun intended), but when I couldn't do it he took one look at our ailing son, heard his sad whimper as he snorted snot to try and breathe, looked at the NoseFrida and sighed with a "Okay, hand him to me".

The process took less than a minute and Abishai was immediately relieved.  Not the tiniest sound of snot in his nose and he smiled before turning to nurse again.  Hip Hip Hooray!

I can't say I didn't gag and turn my head while Matt did the first nostril.  Sure, I could get mustard yellow, corn soup-like poop all over me without flinching, but snot sucking was obviously not in my repertoire of skills.  Matt, on the other hand, approached it with such valor- as if it was his duty. 

Needless to say, I'm now a believer in the NoseFrida.  Yes it's gross, but you'll go to any efforts to help your kid breathe.  Even if that means doing the sucking yourself.  Which brings me to my next story...

I told my mom of our NoseFrida experience this morning thinking I was going to enlighten her with the wonders of this fancy new baby product.  Her response: "Oh, your daddy did that to you when you were a baby".  She proceeded to tell me that back in the day (because it was sooo long ago since I was an infant- haha) before there were special tubes to suck baby snot, my dad placed his mouth onto my tiny baby nostrils and literally sucked my snot out of my nose. *I just gagged again*

"I couldn't do it and nothing else would work," my mom said, "so your daddy just sucked the snot and spit it out.  It worked.  Must be a daddy thing".  Must be.

I asked my dad about his experience and he acted like it was just another thing you do when you have a baby-- like changing a diaper.  "That's what you do," he said, as he was holding Abishai.  He said it with such confidence that I wouldn't doubt he'd do the same with his grandson. 

There are many traits that make up an awesome dad, but rarely do you ever hear that snot sucker is one of them.  It should be.  You can't argue that having the wherewithal to suck your baby's snot makes you a bit of a hero parent.  Abishai is blessed to have a pretty awesome dad and a fun grandpa as well.

My dad just celebrated his 74th birthday on Thursday and here he is happily holding his sick grandson.  Abishai is truly happy to be hanging with him.

Happy Birthday, Grandpa!

Me? Sick? Nah!

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.

First Month Frenzy

We survived.  All three of us.  I can't believe that Abishai is already a month old.  Surprisingly, it went by so fast.  I looked at a friend last week, and with dismay in my voice said "Wait... what do you mean September is almost over.  We just finished August!"  Boy does time fly when you're caring for a newborn constantly.

Parenthood is the hardest thing I have ever done. Seriously-- running a marathon is easier.  Although, I guess you could argue that parenting a newborn is somewhat maranthon-esque.  Feed, burp, change diaper, swing, rock, put down to sleep... repeat with no breaks or sleep.  That's a marathon!

As tiring as parenting can be, it's extremely fulfilling at the same time.  There's a weird balance.  It's amazing how much energy you can muster up to get you through a day on maybe 2 hours of sleep.  I thought I was a rockstar at surviving all-nighters in college, but man, this is like the Olympics of all-nighters.  In one 24 hour period I will have nursed Abe 10-12 times, been pooped or peed on at least once, and maybe had one full meal-- yet, 10 seconds of a smile or giggle makes all of it worth while.

Our first month was one roller coaster ride of frenzy.  Our first week home, I ended up with an infection and a high fever, causing Matt to rush me to the hospital for CT scans and blood tests.  On that same day, we learned that I hadn't been producing any milk at all so our poor little guy went an entire week with little to no nourishment.  Here we were, first time parents, thinking we had the best baby on the planet.  He was sleeping for 5 hour stretches his first week.  We later learned that he was just lethargic and dehydrated from not having any nourishment and, as a result, was losing weight instead of gaining.  

Soonafter, I was doing everything known to man to increase my milk supply-- herbal supplements, natural galactagogues, and prescription medications.  Several more days passed and I woke up one morning with milk!  Thank the Lord! Now, we have a full supply and little Abe eats like crazy.  At one point, he was eating at the top of every hour.  Finally, by his third week Abe made it back to birth weight and we are happy to announce that he is now past that and gaining steadily. 

How people survive this alone is beyond me.  My parents came and stayed with us for the first 2 weeks, feeding us, helping with tasks around the house, and eventually getting up in the early morning hours to help me change diapers.  My mom would stay up on the weeknights tapping my arm every time I'd fall asleep while nursing and graciously taking Abe so that I could go to the bathroom or take a shower.  I would not have survived those first few weeks without her. 

In addition to my parents help, our friends participated in a meal train and brought us dinner every other day during his first month.  We had some pretty awesome meals, too.  Not having to worry about dinner those first few weeks was a life saver.

I have a true appreciation for mothers now.  After my first few all-nighters, it was like a lightbulb went off in my head.  Sitting in his room nursing at 2am, tired and in pain from recovering from surgery, I realized the sacrifice that a mother makes for a child.  You put aside all of your own personal needs (hunger, hygiene, and sleep) and your pride to make sure that your child is provided for.  It's only been a month and I can't remember the last time I actually showered before noon or took the time to brush my hair.  It's all about survival mode and if you're in nothing but a nursing bra and pajama bottoms at 8pm, but your child has a clean diaper and hasn't missed any feedings-- you've done your job and it's been a good day.

We're only one month in and I've still got so much to learn and experience and definitely more stories to share.  The adventures of Abe are just beginning...