Welcome, family and friends! In an attempt to avoid chronic and obsessive Facebook updates ("Max had an A+ burp this morning!") and grainy ultrasound picture's of baby's right elbow (. . . you mean, not each of my 400 friends care to see this?), here you will find updates on Baby Kaplan, our journey into parenthood (the good, the bad, and the drooly), and living as a family of 3. So sit back, nosh on something yum, and click around.
Love,
Heidi, Josh, & Max
PS: As we are first time bloggers, your feedback is greatly appreciated. Please note that we only accept praise.
Well, Monday was the big day. Max and I went to The Wrap Shoppe - this very cool place that does professional wrapping on motorcycles, cars, boats, you name it - and had his DOC band wrapped. This company does complimentary wrapping for DOC kiddos, which is so totally cool seeing as though we drove him to the place with one arm and one leg because Max's helmet cost us the other limbs. It was a pretty neat process, actually. We went in a few weeks ago and met with the staff to discuss what we would like on the band. They sent us a proof via email, and, once approved, the band wrapping was ready to go. You can see our little one's creation below:
The back says "Just Fixin' My Flat". Tow truck, flat tires...get it?
Yeah, we dig it.
We went in to Cranial Tech for our WEEK 5 Visit! Yee-haw! His head continues to round out beautifully and the tech is guessing he will be completely finished with it in about 6 weeks at the most. To look at his head shape at this juncture, you would not think he needs his helmet anymore at all; however, there is always growing to be done and the band still has room for him to "fill in". Might as well get our money's worth!
You remember: that time of the day you refused to take advantage of in your youth ("I can't sleep when it's LIGHT OUTSIDE!"), which you now look back on wistfully as there just aren't enough hours in the day.
Naptime for babies should not be as difficult as it can be for, say, toddlers or school aged kiddos. Set a schedule, start a "wind-down" routine, and plop 'em in the crib so you can clean the house/do laundry/wash bottles/finally get that blasted hangnail/or in my case, all of the above after surfing facebook for too long by any standard.
In almost every area of baby life, Max is doing beautifully. He sleeps 10-12 hours a night and is hardly ever cranky during the day. He eats what you offer him and he "teeths" for about 10 minutes per tooth. They're a tricky business, though, those nap times. When it comes to taking his daily snoozes, he refuses to be anywhere near his crib. Ah, no. Why settle for a Serta when you can REM on a warm body like Mommy's?
Yes, Max has decided that he will only nap on me. Which means that twice a day, I sit in the glider, bounce/rocking him until he falls asleep and holding him in that position for the better part of an hour. Depending upon how he falls asleep, at times my body is severely contorted, biceps shaking. I look like a marquee for kabuki theatre. I know what you're thinking, and yes - I HAVE tried to tip toe him into his crib after he's fallen asleep in my arms.
Guess what happens.
So I flip a U-ie and take my place back in the glider. Any leading figure in child-rearing would shake his head at me, then snap a photo to put in his next best-seller under "See What Can Happen If You Don't Listen To Me?"
Truth be told.... I kinda love it. As I rock - no, glide- with him across my chest and on my shoulder, all I need is to glance down at that chubby little face, eyes closed and mouth hanging open as only a sleepy trip to Never Never Land can produce. And I'm inches away from his own personal little dreamscape. And it hits me: he doesn't want his crib to nap. He wants ME. There is something that only I can provide him so that he will relax enough to drift off during the day for his naps. I help him to dream. When he dreams, he learns; he grows. These days will be gone all too soon.
Yes, I hold my son during his naps. Write an entire chapter on me.
I'd have it no other way.
If I were to just dive right into this blog post, would you catch that it's been over a month since I've written? Whew. GOOD.
Last week, we celebrated Max's 6 MONTH BIRTHDAY. Six months is halfway to his first year (you're welcome on the math). I still catch myself at times holding his chin up to burp him, even though he is completely able to handle his oral flatulence on his own.... any flatulence, for that matter. He is not keen on being held "Baby Style" anymore and prefers being propped up over your shoulder to get a real good view of the world around him. He continues to smile all the time, and don't call CPS on us when I say that this kid loves the get the s#&% scared out of him. We've decided to call it "being suprised":
Me: Honey, Max is in the living room doing tummy time. Go "surprise" him.
Josh: I'm on it.
(Sneaks into the living room, creeping up on our deliciously oblivious son as he inpects his teething froggie).
"BOO!"
Max: ....... " HAHAGAGAHAGAHGAH!"
I know it sounds bad, so here's a video so you can see how he just BEGS for it:
As illustrated in the above video, you may or may not be aware that our little monkey has plagiocephaly. Do yourself a favor and read past posts, if not for the details of his helmet journey, then to revisit the hilarity that my writing ensues. Two weeks ago, Max was fitted with his DOC Band (Dynamic Orthotic Cranioplasty, or, "expensive ass piece of foam"). It weighing 6 ounces, Max didn't even flinch as it went on for the first time, and he's barely noticed it since. We go back to Cranial Technologies weekly to continue monitoring Max's growth. As he grows and his head gets bigger, his head will fill in the areas that were once "flat" while the already good stuff is just held in place by the band. At his latest appointment, the technician said that if he continues to grow at the rate he's been, he'll be out of the band in no time, so we can kiss his noggin without catching a honking piece of plastic in our mouths. Moreover, those adorable, sleepy "head butts" he does after waking won't threaten to send mommy to the ER.
Yay!
So what else with life. Now that he is over 6 months old, we are seeing more personality than ever. He is also displaying signs of seperation anxiety, or perhaps he is so spoiled by Mommy spending almost every moment with him, he gets frustrated when she has to, say, shower. In fact, it's pretty remarkable. Thinking he could pass the time in his exersaucer for 10 minutes - situated in the master bathroom - in front of the shower - while Mommy palms some shampoo through her hair, I plopped him in and started to get ready for my cleanse. I am not one foot in the shower when, all of a sudden, the musical, multi-colored, light up plaything that's been mesermizing him for months loses all potency, and the realization that I am not engaging with him takes over. I hear the whiny grumbles of suspicion.
Quick. Lather.
"Wwa. Wa. Wwww."
I can get my legs tomorrow. Just the necessities.
"Mmmaaa...waaaaa....waaaaaaaaaa...."
Conditioner's for losers, anyway...
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
This is the place I like to call the middle of the tunnel. I'm too far into my process to abandon ship, but I can forget about taking my time to finish up without his popping a lung. The only thing to do: entertain.
That's right. I can talk to him. But I've got to keep it novel. He can't see me, so I can't do a bunch of funny faces for him to zone out on.....I'll have to rely on my voice.
"Maaaax!"
Crying turns to silence. I've hooked him.
"Maxie Maxie poo poo poo!"
"waa."
Shit. Ok, changing it up. How about I SING your name! As.....Christina Aguilera?
"MA-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-X!"
Silence.
Andrea Bocelli.
Sting.
Lady Gaga.
Annie (It's a Hard Knock Max!)
I pulled out all the stops. Not only did it work, but it made me think of myself as quite the impressionist and I'm updating my fantasy acting resume as soon as I'm done here.
Here are some updated photos of our little guy. Enjoy!
