Baby Gabe

Baby Gabe was not a fan of swaddling.  We would put him in his crib, and within five minutes, he would either wriggle out or start crying to be let out. So we gave up.  He slept with his arms free to flail away whenever the moment struck him.  Speaking of striking, sometimes he would punch himself in the face and wake up crying, we presume, because someone just punched him in the face.

A week ago, we revisited the whole swaddling business.  We put him in a thin onesie and slid him comfortably in his BabyBonkie courtesy of his Uncle Jeff and Auntie Sarah (http://www.babybonkie.com/home.aspx – note: turn off your speakers before you go to the site to avoid a hideous song that sounds like it was recorded by a barefoot, long-haired hippie with a goatee wearing a tye-dyed “Peace” shirt and a bandana).   He’s been sleeping like a baby ever since.  He wakes only once during the night for feeding and changing.  No more smacking himself awake.  We figure we now get between 6-8 hours of non-continuous (but still restful) sleep a night now.

Baby Gabe celebrated his 2 month birthday with three vaccination shots.  He didn’t much appreciate them at the time, and he remained a bit surly for a few hours after them.  Neither feeding nor bouncing nor singing “99 bottles of beer on the wall” could soothe him. However, Gabe’s mom knew exactly what to do.  She laid him down in his bouncer and told him that in 21 years, he’ll have an entirely new perspective on having a bunch of shots on his birthday.  He immediately quieted down, and the slightest smirk crossed his face.

A lot of people have said Baby Gabe clearly looks like his dad, but we think he looks like he could have come straight from his Ngin-Ngin and Yeh-Yeh.   He’s got the same cherubic face of Yeh-Yeh.  They even share the same disgusted look.  The resemblance is remarkable.

While burping Baby Gabe, I noticed he was a bit agitated, rubbing his face and forehead into my chest the way a cat would nuzzle around your leg.  I asked, “Baby Gabe, are you tired?  Time for nigh-nigh?”  He perked his head up, curled his lip, and clearly said, “Bo-ah.”  That’s a way of saying “no” in Taiwanese.  His tone was just right; otherwise, he might have been saying “hat,” which would make no sense at all.  Pretty soon, we’ll be able to ask him what’s wrong, and he’ll say, “Bung sai” — bung, meaning “let go of, drop” and sai, meaning “#2.”

I don’t know why baby feet are so cute.  They just are.

There’s a myth that the first two months are the hardest.  Even at the hospital, nurses were asking if we had “help.”  The truth is, these first two months will probably be nothing compared to what we’ll face when he starts crawling and demands more attention during the day.  We might need day care at that stage.  For now, he’s like all babies.  He sleeps 12-16 hours a day (see photos above), eats only when he’s hungry, and averages about 7 diaper changes (used to be 12).  When he’s awake, he’s normally pleasant (again, see photos) and can sit and entertain himself for up to an hour, especially when he’s making spit bubbles.  Then he cries.  And we pick him up.  Then he stops.  Ah, the life.

Anyway, getting by on 5 hours of sleep isn’t all that difficult.  The human body can adapt pretty well.  We have time to cook, eat, clean, take pictures, update blogs, and shop.  We’re even going to start up our long dormant exercise routine next week.  The only thing that has really suffered is our nightly television watching.  (But thank God for Hulu.)  Besides, Baby Gabe provides his own unique brand of entertainment.

In honor of Mother’s Day, I figured I should write a few words about Baby Gabe’s amazing mom.  I’ll start with the pregnancy.  As a dad-to-be, I was fully prepared for the midnight runs to the store to satisfy a craving, for the bouts of hysteria and gloom, for the endless nesting rituals, and for the guilt she would be shooting my way for not having to go through what she was. But none of that happened (except for a poorly timed plumbing problem she had to have fixed right away).  She was as normal as normal gets besides the occasional lament for forgoing coffee, wine, sashimi, and bloody red meat.  The only clue anything was different was the slowly protruding presence of Baby Gabe.

Now let’s go to the birthing experience.  Gabriel’s mom is one tough chick. Six cm upon arrival at the hospital.  Fully dilated before they set up the epidural. Her biggest complaint about the whole experience?  A slight case of carpal tunnel in her right arm.  I hope Baby Gabe inherits that toughness.

Postpartum wasn’t quite as hassle-free as the pregnancy, but she pulled through it all with her trademark “can do” attitude.   It wasn’t easy, and it took some time, but she did it.

She is, quite simply, extraordinary.  Baby Gabe is lucky to have her.  To celebrate her total awesomeness, I bought her a brand spankin new pair of Dearfoam slippers for Mother’s Day.   I’m a romantic at heart. 

We were fortunate to have grandparents in town to help out for much of April.  We’ve heard horror stories about visiting grandparents, but no such worries here.  They shopped, cooked, washed  dishes, cleaned house, ran errands, let us sleep in, and took great care of Baby Gabe when we needed a break.  Thanks, A-gong and A-ma!