Bicycle kicks

It’s been a busy day today: Momma J had another shower, I put in a game of hockey and Baby G hung out with his Grandma.

After another monumental poop this afternoon, Baby G continued to fuss and grunt into the evening. We thought it was the formula, but after looking at a couple of dishes Momma J’s mother cooked for her a couple of days ago, we’re not sure. One dish is Chinese cabbage and a bunch of other stuff I can’t name, and the other is beef, onion and garlic with some pepper for spice.

Add a little chocolate into the mix, and everything Momma G had eaten on Thursday and Friday was a recipe for a gassy Baby G – onions, cabbage, garlic, chocolate and spicy foods all contribute to gas. It’s no wonder the little guy cranked up the fuss in the last couple of days.

With this in mind, we started a little bicycle kick action, and I’m truly amazed how well it works on the little fella. After two minutes of moving his tiny legs in a circular motion, he really lets it rip.

Prior to Baby G’s birth, I read very little because I believed I would learn from experience. This worked until we brought him home, and is true to some extent. But now that he’s here, I’ve changed my tune and am reading every day – knowledge truly is power. Without reading about the bicycle kick and gassy food, I would have kept carrying him around when he fussed, which would have led to a lot of stress, misery and sleepless nights.

Thanks to a simple suggestion, I’m here typing, while Baby G and Momma J catch a few minutes of much needed sleep.

Poop watch

Like every guy, I’ve had some legendary bowel movements that I’ve been able to brag to friends about, but I never thought I would be so interested with another person’s poop.

In this case he’s not really a person yet, but Baby G seems to be a little plugged up these days. Back when we were having trouble feeding him, we noticed he wasn’t pooping and peeing like we had read in our many baby books. So we were quite relieved when we put him on a formula diet and he started to fill his pants on a regular basis. He was healthy and we were happy.
Now after two and half weeks on formula, we’re finding the little guy is having some problems. From what we’ve read, he’s supposed to be going number two at least once or twice in a 24-hour period, but he’s slowed down in the last few days, and hasn’t had a dump since yesterday at 8 a.m.

NEWS FLASH: I’ve just returned from spending ten minutes cleaning up one of his biggest craps ever. So, once again, I breath a sigh of relief and can chalk my concern up to being a rookie father.

However, I do want to say all of our fears were not unfounded. We returned a new type of formula we were using because it was not mixing well. Even after shaking vigorously we found unmixed chunks at the bottom of bottles and the mixes bubbled up a lot, which seemed to give him big-time gas problems. Last night he was up for hours farting, and burping and fussing. Tonight, back on the old stuff we were using before, he’s crashed out like usual, which is great, because now I can head to bed and enjoy tonight’s extra hour of sleep.

We bought the formula that gave him problems because it was a thicker mix that was supposed to discourage spitting up. For all of you new parents out there, I would suggest sticking with what works and don’t go for any quick fixes.

The NFL in Canada?

With everything back to normal tonight, I can get back into my sports addiction.

Some people are addicted to cruising Yaletown for ladies, others love to play World of Warcraft, but for me its sports. With a newborn in the house, I can fall unhealthy into my addiction because momma J has to sleep, and I can watch hockey, football and baseball while I’m “babysitting”. Before Baby G came along, I could only get away with watching a game or so a week before I had to go out to visit friends or relatives.

Prior to leaving for work this morning I was watching David Benefield and Neil Lumsden debating the news that the NFL was considering playing some regular season games in Canada to test the market. As a guy who rides the train with the BC Lions (there were a few on my train this morning heading to practice), I must say I was a little dismayed. When I was younger, I was an avid Dallas Cowboys fan and I hated the CFL because there were no big name players in the league, but as I’ve grown older, I’ve also grown wiser.

The CFL’s charm comes from its working-class players who, year in and year out, put an exciting product on the field. Even though the league doesn’t have the big-name players and multi-billion dollar marketing and TV budgets, the game itself is exciting. The rules encourage teams to play a full 60 minutes – you never see a 6-3 score in the CFL and the clock can’t be run out with a minute and a half left to play.

Some will say the CFL should die, and big Canadian cities should get NFL teams. I admit this could happen because of the strength of the NFL brand – and that’s all it is, because the games certainly lack excitement and offensive flair. What people love (and what is hyped by the media) is the WWE-like soap opera stuff, like TO’s weekly feud with whoever.
In the CFL, you get a little trash talking, but for the most part the league and the game is bigger than individual players. These guys aren’t million-dollar celebrities that the press fawns over because at the end of the game, most of the team has to pack up and jump on the SkyTrain with everyone else to get home.

The Burbs

I just returned from an evening in the burbs at the in-laws house. All is well, and the family will be back tomorrow. They are staying one more day to ensure mom’s back is going to hold up.

A friend from work was kind enough to drop me off out there, as it was sort of on his way home. Being a dreary, wet Vancouver night, the traffic was ugly. It took us about an hour and a half to drive from downtown Vancouver to Coquitlam, a drive that takes 30 minutes in low traffic volumes.

With the new baby, we’ve discussed moving closer to my wife’s parents for the free babysitting, etc., but after tonight I don’t think I would remain sane having to commute an hour both ways. In Vancouver, housing is cheaper in the suburbs, but the stress associated with the commute; the fact once your home you have to drive to get everything; and the cookie cutter, big box culture of these bedroom communities would make me ponder my existence in a dangerous way.

I mean it’s nice to have a big house and a yard – or a larger condo in our case. But if it slowly destroys you, it hardly seems worth it. I realized that we’re really going to have to sit down and decide our priorities before we make the move. And it’s looking more and more like we’re going think of creative ways to stay living in Vancouver.

Home Alone

When I woke up this morning, I realized I missed my wife and the little guy a lot. But just as I was convincing myself it was for the best because they were in good care, the phone rang.

My wife was on the other end in hysterics; she couldn’t get out of bed because of her back, and she was crying because she couldn’t get up and feed the little guy. Needless to say, this unnerved me a bit, and I was at a loss at what to do. In the end, we talked it out and I made my way to work, with thoughts of a crippled wife and a starving son.

When I called her back an hour later, I realized I was going to have to take a few hours off because the whole family was in hysterics: her sister was going to leave work to take her to the doctor; her mom thought the massage therapist had screwed up her back; and her dad had a lunch date he couldn’t give up.

Work was cool with me leaving, and luckily we have a company car I could use to get to the suburbs. Upon my arrival I could tell the house was in a bit of an upheaval, but all things considered everything was OK: the little guy was crashed out in his Moses carrier; my wife was teary-eyed but calm; my mother-in-law was a little more high strung than usual; and my father-in-law was out with friends for his Tuesday lunch.

A quick visit to the family’s doctor prognosis calmed everyone – he’s a trusted family friend who justified going to a massage therapist for back therapy – and I was able to make my way back to work.

Wisdom gained from this experience: You can’t really expect to take time off. Originally we thought my wife should head to her parents because I was coming down with the flu. Obviously we didn’t expect her back to seize up, but if I was around I could have helped out and calmed everyone down a bit.

I’m not there tonight due to a late night at work and a long commute, so I guess I have to hope for the best…

Quiet night

I’m home alone for the first time in awhile. It’s kind of a strange feeling not having the little guy and his mom around. They’ve headed out to the in-laws to rest and get taken care of for a few days, as my wife hurt her back and it’s hindering her ability to pick up the little fellow. Unfortunately I’ve been unable to help out much due to a crazy work schedule.

What put us in this unforeseen circumstance was my wife’s refusal to slow down for a few days. Due to the sheer boredom of being locked up in our 700 sq. ft. apartment for a week (and possibly the desire to regain her girlish figure), she headed down to the gym on a morning her mother had come over to take care of the little guy. Twenty minutes on the elliptical trainer was all it took to throw her muscles out of whack. We read later women who’ve just given birth should lay off of heavy physical exercise for at least six weeks.

Now she’s in major pain, and we’re both worrying this isn’t going to subside. Luckily we’ve got a good support network, and she doesn’t have to work for another 11 months (thank you Canada), so it’s fine. Hopefully, she’ll be better in the next couple of days and we can chalk it up to the fact we’re rookie parents. But for anyone out there thinking of exercising heavily a couple of weeks after having a baby, take a walk instead.

Breast vs. Bottle

After Gus returned home from the hospital, we had some trouble getting him to feed properly. My wife was able to breast feed him, but her milk wasn’t coming in fully, so he began to loose weight. By the end of week two, he was down about a pound from his birth weight – close to the dangerous 10 per cent line. Needless to say we were stressed out about it, and due to the literature and pressure from medical practitioners, my wife felt trepidation in giving him formula.

When things looked dire, our midwife suggested we supplement the breast-milk feedings with formula, and Gus shot up in weight. Needless to say we were relieved. However, once he gained, it was suggested we cut back on the formula again, and he didn’t gain any weight for another week. It was then suggested be put him on an intensive formula diet, which we did, and again he gained weight – a pound in a week! On our last visit, it was suggested we cut the diet back a little, but we’ve decided not to for two reasons: top is his health, and the second is my wife’s mental health.

Since we are both educated people, we know the advantages of breast feeding, but I was a little disturbed at the push from health-care workers to do it “no matter what”. And from the stories I’m hearing from people at work and elsewhere, there is a real push to get women breastfeeding. To be fair, our midwifes have been fairly open minded, but we can tell they would prefer my wife breastfeed.

We are still trying, but it’s getting to point that we know he will probably need more and more formula because my wife’s milk still isn’t coming in. We are growing comfortable with our decision, but as first-time parents, we felt a little insecure about making this decision at first. For anyone else out there having the same problems, consult with your health-care provider, but if it comes down to your mental health and your babies health don’t be afraid to choose what is best for you.

Goodbye Martin

I was checking out YouTube this afternoon and came across an online obituary. An old fella’s wife gave a short speech about her deceased husband, Martin. Apparently, he was a video blogger of some renowned, who recounted his days a soldier in the second world war in short exerpts posted over the past couple of weeks.

I looked at a few of his old posts and they were quite wonderful. It was really refreshing to see some one not hamming it up in order to get a million hits. Apparently Martin took his que from
Jim, an Englishman who is pretty prolific, and his wife who encouraged him to sit down in front of the camera a few weeks ago.

Check out one of Martin’s posts – it looks like his first.

Check out the post one of Jim’s posts.

Another quiet night

I’m entering my third week as a new father. On Sept. 25, 2006 my wife gave birth to Gus, a cute little fella who weighed in at 7 lbs. 1 oz. Right now, he’s crashed out beside me, arms behind his head and blissful as ever. His mom is sleeping in the next room as well.

Since his birth, I’ve been on the evening shift. When I return from my 9 to 5 job, I’m handed the little bundle of joy, and I spend the next 6 hours placating, comforting, and occasionally feeding him. During these often quite nights, I take advantage of down time and jump on the computer for an hour or two of surfing.

I’ve been watching bloggers for a couple of years now, and figured since I now have more quiet time at home (well more time at home), I would give blogging at try. So here’s my first post and a photo of Baby G and me hanging out.