Saturday, February 28, 2009

Waltzing Matilda, redux

I recently asked my wife (Doc) to join me on this blog. I mean, she is the primary breadwinner in the family. (I learned in class last week that if you factor in my amount of student debt, I am technically insolvent!) Anyway, I thought I would comment on the blog's original title in light of the past few weeks' activities.

I had originally thought that Waltzing Matilda would be a clever and obscure allusion to the supposed violence and mayhem of my past, and I could post all sorts of neat man-things here about guns and chicks and hiking and COIN and pirates, and all other sorts of neat topcs that people with only one X-chromosome seem to enjoy.

However, I found that having a kid suddenly limits your interests to Boppys, diaper changing and breast-feeding (on second thought - that last one probably qualified for the earlier incarnation). And to tell the truth,  I am so insanely proud of my little boy that he's pretty much all I ever think to write about.

Take last night, for instance - there I was, pacing the floor at 2am with Jack nestled in my arms. And by 4am, I had a giant cramp in my back and shoulder and he still hadn't stopped crying, and I was still walking back and forth between the kitchen, the den, and the living room, praying that Kim was at least getting some sleep.  And I had the thought that my new favorite nocturnal activity (N.B.: favorite = most frequent, not most enjoyable) could very well be described as a sort of "Waltzing Matilda." I mean, I do have this little package of goodness to take care of, and the only thing that seems to make him happy in the dark of the night is the weird little stumbling two-step that I do across the shadowy kitchen floor. 

So for now, there are TWO Waltzing Matildas. Enjoy.

Jackson roll-up

Every stage of baby-dom has its perks to make up for the sleepless nights and constantly vomit-covered clothes. One of the perks of the stage we're in now is his limited mobility. We're supposed to be able to put him down anywhere and trust he will still be there when we finish blinking. This is supposed to last another 2 months, at least. Well, no one sent Jackson the memo and the kid decided to start rolling over today in honor of his one month birthday. From belly to back, he can turn like a hotdog down hill. He also pushed up on his hands and did a nose dive forward, which inched him about 5 centimeters up and qualified as motion from the original spot. My mother swears that I was walking by 7 months, which I previously thought was a memory malfunction but now I'm starting to think maybe she isn't having conjoined senior moments...

Monday, February 23, 2009

Thy Name Shall Be Called Thunderpants

My son just pooped so loudly that it woke the dog. No kidding - this was an amazing feat. I thought he was going to blow the diaper clean off.

In other news, I am just about done drafting my first complaint for damages, and this baby is bullet proof! Those tortiously negligent Shrackle Brothers are going down, and they are going to pay handsomely for the way they ran over my client. (Alas, if only this was a real lawsuit, and not just a class simulation...)

Sunday, February 22, 2009

Okay okay, fine. I'm putting it down...

I've never been a chocolate freak. In fact, I've been rather pleased with my ability to pass on Death by Chocolate and Molten Lava Chocogoodness and Godiva into a Million Calories and Two Extra Dress Sizes desserts - that is, until the second trimester of my Jackson Adventure. I started out with ice cream with chocolate bits after dinner. That turned into full-bodied chocolate ice cream snacks and then Heath bars in the Target checkout line and then a constantly stocked Godiva bin in the kitchen for drive by coco-fixes. But, thanks to Darwinian genetics, my son shares my pre-preggo apathy towards the cocoa bean. Scratch that, he abhors the stuff. It apparently breaks down into a flatulence-inducing metabolic that seeps into my breast milk causing his colon to rumba in a way that makes him speak in tongues (see below). So, in honor of lent and for the sanity of all those living in the Shaw household, I'm putting it away...along with citrus and broccoli and any cooking spice known to man. Someone really should make The Manual for New Moms and put this kind of crap in the chapter "Ok, but you really should know this before you stop the birth control..."

Thursday, February 19, 2009

My Son Screams Like a Miniature Islamic Terrorist

"Bism'Allah al-Rahman al-Rahim, wa salla Allahu ala sayyidina Muhammadin, wa alihi al-Tahereen wa asahbihi al-Mukhleseen wa sallam wa la hawla, wa la quwwata illa bi-llahi al-Aliyya al-Azim."

I swear, today I heard Jack recite the Bism'allah. He just screams bloody murder for fun, and I'm having flashbacks to Ramadi '05. We need to erect a minaret and get some loudspeakers. We could be the local angy anti-western mosque of Northeast Greensboro.
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Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Yes, son - breastmilk is delicious. But did you know it will also make you FASTER?

Apparently, breast feeding is good for more than just the aesthetic component:

"The physical exercise caused by suckling at the breast - about six times daily on average for more than 4 months -- may result in increased lung capacity and increased airflow in breast-fed children compared with bottle-fed children," Dr. Ikechukwu U. Ogbuanu told Reuters Health.

Ogbuanu, of the University of South Carolina in Columbia, and colleagues studied the feeding practices of infants born in 1989 on the Isle of Wight in the United Kingdom. At the time, breast feeding was predominantly direct suckling from the breast rather than indirect feeding of pumped breast milk from a bottle, the researchers note.

Absolutely fascinating read. More at this link.
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Sunday, February 15, 2009

Heaven... a sleeping son. Kim got me a new camera lens for Valentine's day that is fast enough to take low-light indoor shots without flash. Here's one of the first attempts.

It really is remarkable, having a child. Every time I pick him up, it takes a full moment to realize that he's real, but also what the impact of that realization is. Most times, I feel like I am standing in someone else's life, that I am really just 26 and fresh out of the Marines, ready to go camping or grab a beer, and not a newly minted father.

But then I look down again and realize that he's mine, and how marvelous he'll make the next 30 years, and how lucky I am to have a wife wonderful enough to give me this incredible little boy.
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Friday, February 13, 2009

An entire class of Dook grads has never seen a home win. What a waste.

It wasn't just Tyler Hansbrough's clock-beating three pointer, or Tywon Lawson's incredible scoring output, or Roy William's style and class that made the latest Carolina victory in Cameron oh-so-sweet. No, it was the realization that for the Duke Class of 2009, those poor people spent $191,940 and 6 months in a tent and never got to see Duke beat Carolina.

I think Adam Lucas of sums it up best: 

    "Duke fans believe spending 196 hours in a tent indicates passion and devotion. Carolina fans believe 196 hours in a tent indicates a telling lack of other social engagements. The undergrads inhabiting Tent 1 in Krzyzewskiville staked their claim on Dec. 26, 47 days ago. Added over four years of college life, that's 188 days--over half a year--in a tent to watch four losses. "

I love Adam Lucas. Click the link for more Carolina Blue goodness. Tar Heels Official Athletic Site