The Pookies in Oahu

i'm in waikkiki the night before we return to california.

we flew out two days ago to visit with family, and pooklet didn't sleep but for 10 minutes or so during the 5 and a half hour flight. he cried a lot and was restless.

it was a long day, with heavy rains meeting us in Honolulu and difficulty finding our hotel. then, once we unpacked, we changed rooms to get one with a bath tub. nice hotel, though. the wyland waikkiki - $100 through priceline. good staff, great amenities, unexpected valet-only parking.

the wee tired pook slept good Thursday night but was nap deprived the next day, enduring long car rides (traffic and getting lost) and irregular feedings.

tonight i spent what seemed like an hour trying to get him to sleep, patting his side with most of the lights out, straining to see if his eyes were closed.

as is most often the case, the books i brought, including a bible, went unread. although i suppose it was foolish to bring along de toqueville's "democracy in america" as my vacation book. a bit difficult to get into so far.

i missed my devotional times, despite having brought along kay arthur's inductive bible study.
when you're parents, everything takes longer, and as organized and prepared as i tend to be, i inevitably misplace a few things. luckily, the binky we thought we lost turned up under the bed.

besides the lateness, there's not much you can do when you have to be quiet in the dark so as not to wake your child. we watched 'get smart' on pookie's laptop, sharing my ipod headphones, and woke the pooklet up because we were laughing so hard. thankfully, he went back to sleep easily.

pookletta

it's a girl!

the ultrasound yesterday revealed the gender of our next child, and it's a girlchild - a pooklina, a pooklessa, a pookletta, if you will.


in pooklet news, here are some pics one week before his first birthday, which demonstrate just how sweet-tempered he is, even when no one's watching, or interested.

probably should have reflected on this sooner

I came across some notes I took during a singing workshop at the Christian Musician Summit we attended in September, and I can't for the life of me figure out one sentence I wrote:

"particles separated by thousands of miles retain synchronicity"

The workshop was mainly about one's presence on stage in front of the congregation, which makes this one standout baffling. And the next sentence doesn't shed any light on it:

"Sharing your real life will affect people"

And after that, one thought I particularly like:

"You'll never be anything but dynamic if you're selfless"


what an incredibly counterculture notion.

I S T J

I'm an Inspector Guardian, according to the Jung Typology Test I just took.

- 11% introverted
- 12% sensing
- 25% thinking
- 56% judging

the wife tells me, though, that i was, like, an ESFJ the last time i took this test.
the same wife and i decided that i'm more of a modernist thinker, and she a postmodernist... in the, um, good sense.

Any ISTJs out there wanna exchange notes?

FMLA part two

I had a 4-day credit from last year's paternity leave, so I got to enjoy some extended pooklet time which culminated in a trip to SF and their zoo. The SF zoo is pretty lackluster, but still probably better than Lincoln Park.



Had really good Hong Kong food at Washington Cafe and Bakery in Chinatown. I had Singapore Style Chow Mein - a good curry dish.

giraffelet!

while i never dress up for halloween, we dressed the pooklet in a hand-me-down giraffe.

a pooklitical entry

Here's a great letter written by a thoughtful and godly black man who will not vote for Obama. Read his end notes to Snopes after the letter as well.
Note also his prayerful support of whichever candidate takes office.

the pitiless pooklet

our sony babycall monitor was giving us a lot of static at night, along with other random noises, one of which sounded like a flock of birds was trapped in the nursery.
we ordered Mobi's Mobicam, a video monitor that seems better so far in the static department, and which gives us the added luxury of seeing the baby pook without opening the loud and creaky door to his room.
Lately our first morning visual of pooklet is him standing in front of the crib railing and dangling his duckie blanky over the edge. it looks fairly threatening, but amusing, too.

We've been mulling over names for girls, a task made more difficult because we want to incorporate pookie's mom's name esther as middle or first and it doesn't seem to follow or precede well because of the lead vowel. last night, pookie suggested "Shalom," which i immediately liked until trying out the complete name. sorta awkward. in the running still is "Hannah." I liked a couple names Paul closed his letter to the Romans with, but pookie won't have 'em: Tryphena and Tryphosa.

are those so bad?

pooklet tried to eat the cat

i hope all you expectant parents and parents with infants experience the hilarity of your child trying to put everything in his/her mouth. why just the other day, pooklet tried to eat a corner of the hallway wall.
on another occasion, willie the cat walked by, and pooklet leaned in with his mouth agape to snack on the cat. willie easily dodged a devouring. this time. pooklet's heart just wasn't in it, i guess.

in lieu of a photo of pooklet eating strange things, here's one that's just as funny.

in pregnancy news, pookie is finding out just how much sooner back pain sets in when carrying a 21-lb baby is a regular part of your day.

the pookies have begun a habit of reading the bible together before bed, in hopes that it will have a double payoff when pooklet is old enough to join us.
tonight i read the Matthew passage while I rubbed the wife's back. that's a good combo.

the love is still there. it's just the photos that aren't.

the pookies have been taking an online theology course the last three weeks. consequently, it's been more difficult to do those frivolous things like uploading baby photos. the 10 month, 1 week batch of pooklet pics was heading for pookie's picasa page last night, but i had to interrupt the preliminary photo-finishing to alleviate a dangerously full scratch disk. lousy scratch disk.

anyway, i'm here to plug a great, unique theology course that's free, started by two guys from DTS. undergirding this particular study is the concept of learning theology in community, which is served by breaking down all participants' beliefs to determine why we believe what we believe. this in turn aids the believer in irenically debating those with contrary views. consequently, what also happens, is that certain beliefs are let go in this process when the humble theology student realizes that it is tradition and not logic, for example, that has been holding a particular belief to one's traditions.

roseola

the fever, it turns out, was roseola. pooklet had red patches on his face and chest today, but all in all, it didn't amount to much but some lethargy a few days ago and high temperatures.

pooklina... pookleta... pooklissa...

102.8 was his temperature 15 minutes ago.
it's nearing 103, when we will need to bring him in.

he was cheerful today, though, waving his hand and smiling.

the real news of the day, though, is that pooklet number two is on the way!

we are 12 weeks along, and our second ultrasound, today, revealed a "perfect heartbeat," according to our doctor. what's more is that our little babe was waving!

we know it's going to be difficult having two diaper kids 16 months apart, but we're excited. we'll let you know when the gender is available for show and tell.

sick lil' pooklet

102.6 was his temperature 15 minutes ago.

wifey called me at work to say he has a fever, that he's lethargic and cuddly, and right before she picked me up at work, he vomited while she was feeding him.
in the car, i saw a pooklet i'd never seen before, one who looked sad and worn out, and as we neared home, he couldn't even keep his eyes open.

so i gave him his vitamin drops and bathed him (food crust around the mouth). As we left the tub, he began to cry and i took his temperature, getting the above reading. I gave him about 1.2 ml of tylenol drops, the taste of which he seemed to like, and then gave him a little over 3oz of milk, rocking him. i dressed him, and went to thaw some more (putting his crying self into the crib first), but when i came back to check on him, he was fast asleep.

rest well, prince pooklet.

it should be noted that he hadn't been napping well the past few days (crankypants), and that i myself am in the last stages of a virus that revealed itself 10 days ago.

10 month birthday giggle

I can think of no other sound more endearing than a giggling pooklet.
Here is a louder, more sustained variation in honor of the pooklet's 10-month birthday.

day in the life of a pooklet

i love the undaunted smile on pooklet's face in the last frame, despite an unsuccessful attempt at petting the cat who knows better.

Babies make everything better

I was struck yesterday by how I've changed since becoming a parent.
Twice I was in line between a parent with a crying infant in a stroller, and both times I was filled with compassion and joy. Anyone, parent or not, can surmise why an infant cries, how they only have one form of communication, and forgive them (and the parent) of what can be perceived as a nuisance, but I'm certain that before I had a baby of my own, I never had such pleasant visceral reactions to such an unlikely distraction.
I've also found myself keen on the idea of having four children (though the wife would probably cap it at three), something I never would've appreciated as a bachelor.
huh.

Boring Medical Journal entry 2

Medi-log entry 2, September 12, 2008:

For years, I've had occasional knee-buckling when I walk, which I've never thought much of. But lately, perhaps because it's coincided with slight pain from running, I went in to check it out. After all, it's just weird to have your knee give out periodically when you're at work just walking to the printer.

Here are the diagnoses of my $10 appointment:

Dr. assessed my left knee tendon as slightly softer and inflamed than it should be, and diagnosed tendonitis. Referral to physical therapy.

Right knee tendons feel fine, but given my history of impact, diagnosed it as patellofemoral pain syndrome (whatever). Referral to physical therapy.

Itchy patch on back of neck: fungus (how embarrassing). Prescribed Clotrimazole, which I passed on buying then because I thought we had some, but after cleaning out the creams and ointments drawer at home, found none.

Scalp scabs and severely itchy ears: dandruff. Prescribed Nizoral shampoo (Ketoconazole). The Selsun Blue she'd prescribed last wasn't relieving me of . That's twice I've bought that expensive blue stuff for naught.

I can't wait to see the physical therapist, which I passed on seeing the first time I was referred (shoulder pain). My doctor said I'd need to strengthen my quads, which I'm not looking forward to.

On another exercise note, I've discovered the rowing machine at work since I'm not supposed to do the treadmill and elliptical because of my weak knees. I like it, but I'm expecting pain effects of it tomorrow. Here's to new habits.

a little art in the life of stockton

today was date night. pookie got a babysitter. i got flowers.
sadly, though, i was hoisted on my own petard because as i was secretively getting off the bus a stop early and walking to the store to buy flowers, she was walking with the pooklet to meet me for the first time at the bus stop.
once we sprung the surprises on each other via cell phone, i walked to where my family was waiting and, listening to 'dear refuge of my weary soul' (an indelible grace hymn remake i've memorized to sing), i walked along a footpath to see my wife standing beautifully in the setting sun underneath a giant tree holding our baby.
we walked the rest of the way home and near our house, i picked the pooklet up and put him on my shoulders.
now that's a moment i wish i had a photograph of.

the pooklet in the place to be

oh, how rich the delights that unfold in the midst of the mundane!

the venues that define your days when you become a parent are often suburban and dull, but the delightful behavior of a pooklet can transform all of that and take you to a distant, magical fairyland!

today at costco pumping gas, i played peekaboo with the wee pook as i normally do, but today he started waving at me. i responded and waited. then, after a few moments, I began waving the same awkward up and down hand wave at him, and he waved back!

mini milestones

today was the first time i read to the pooklet (from mo willems' pigeon book) where he listened and looked without grabbing for the pages. he even giggled when i did the dog voice.
that's some quality parent satisfaction.
incidentally, i did my best british accent for the reading. i wonder if that helped focus him.

here's the pic of the day. we played 'quiddler' (scrabble in cards form) and this is pooklet sitting on his uncle's lap looking at his cards.


and here's a funny sleeping pose we caught him in today. ah, perchance to dream... perchance to be boneless.

the look of theft

it's as if he knew that cheerio didn't belong to him.

really quality crawling footage

He's bookin' now...

The Happy Yakker

Pooklet had his 9-month check-up today and all systems are normal. Hard to believe that his girth only puts him in the 60th percentile for weight. He's 21lbs and 29 1/2 inches.

The reason for this post, though, is really the comedy that played out on our bedroom floor this evening. Shortly before bedtime, and a few hours after downing a container of sweet potatoes, pooklet was laying on his stomach and playing with one of his new favorites, the doorstop. Not the wedge, but the coil that goes BOINNNNG! So, pooklet is batting at that until a couple coughs alert us to an incoming (rather, outgoing) vomit. A vomit of enormous proportions is expelled on the carpet to our dismay. Not one second after it's expelled, though, does he casually return to BOINNNG... BOINNG...

He's crawling!

By keeping a desired object just out of his reach, we coaxed him into a purposeful crawl, for about a foot, on Saturday!

But the more delightful footage is of him laughing at the cat. Notice him producing and then stashing again his prize from the incentive-crawl challenge.



and here's a photo of his delight...

Pooklet has filled up our Picasa cache

One of the joys of technology is rotating desktop images. Pooklet in both real-life and flat screen versions makes me grin ear-to-ear, so enthralled am I with his cuteness.

One of the joys of the weekend is that I get to contribute to my neglected blog.
We've recently reached the max capacity on our picasa site, and we're too cheap to pay, so maybe I'll use this as our forum for weekly pooklet photos. Yeah. And maybe I'm a Chinese jet pilot.

Since I have the time, I thought I'd mark some things for the Annals of Pooklet:

- The Pulsating Pooklet
We noticed the soft spot on his head throbbing the other day, for no particular reason. I figure it's because the blood is so close to the surface on the top of the head that it might've been just coursing overtime, causing a pulsating pooklet.

- Pooklet Press-ups
Pooklet seems to like it when I bench press him. He giggles, which delights me to no end, and gives me more than a little bit of toning, I'm sure, given the weight in his giant thighs alone.

- We gave him ground lamb today, and videotaped him making faces at the apparently horrible taste it left. Stay tuned on "Vomit Watch" for updates.

In lieu of actual words

Isaac's been making motorboat sounds lately.


But they turn to giggles when I nibble his sides (I discovered this this morning).

I laughed, I cried - The BiPolar Bear

Wednesdays, I jog-stroll the pooklet home from the health club where Pookie teaches spin, and right when we got home, pooklet started crying. The first thing that came to mind was something the wifey said yesterday about this being the age when he might feel separation anxiety whenever mama bear is absent.

still cute as always, though. "mmm mm… Meb?" he whimpered.

and then, after he was put down (on a crib mattress inclined to drain his congested nose) and given Boynton the stuffed pig, he started alternating squeezing Boynton's ear and snout, and grabbing my nose (which was sticking in through the crib bars). I wonder what he was assessing ("Squishy... not so squishy... squishy...").

Then, he began waving both arms at me, so I waved back and he smiled, and we took turns doing this for a little bit, until he changed it up with arms in opposition, kinda like he was doing The Monkey.

Now he's crying hysterically again.

Meb.

infrequent and predictable

are the posts that occasion this blog, it seems.

i had a moment at the computer, so i thought i'd document today's vomiting in pooklet town. we had a babysitter fret when he vomited twice, from oatmeal and bananas. i dunno. sounds like a good meal to me.

this baby's cuteness stock just keeps rising, though. i'm completely enamored with him, whether he's sitting in the tub with mommy, his hair all slicked, and in all his fatness, or whether i'm gazing at the rotating desktop photos of him. or even when he cries. just tonight, he was making a "mmmmmemm - mem - mem - mem" sound. adorable. all of it.

i'm looking forward to baby number 2!

he's got a toof!

i think it was last weekend that we first noticed his first tooth, but a day or two ago, we saw number two coming alongside the first. they're bustin' out!

Crest Gel!
Crest Gel!

well, at least he knows how to roll

I took my eyes off the prize, and let the pooklet roll off the bed this weekend. He hit his head on the nightstand. I felt bad, but he only cried for a minute. And then, all was forgiven and he was laughing again. What a trooper.

Happy Birthday, Dad

My dad turned 70 yesterday. The following I wrote in his card. I'm sharing it cuz I'm proud of him.

Dad,

I’m so grateful that I have a dad I love to celebrate on his birthday.

I regularly hear about deadbeat and dubious dads. Your steadfastness over the decades as a husband and a father has made you a unique thing in this day and age. I admire you tremendously. You’re wonderful with people and I love reflecting on your kindness, grace, meekness, and wisdom.

You know what a really great day for me would be? Playing golf with you at Benona, and then teleporting to your house to join (or even just observe) your men’s group. There, I’m convinced, is God’s intent for our pleasure – the culmination of humility before God, joy in fellowship, and a grown-up son still enjoying his dad’s example, knowing he’s loved by the one he admires. Thanks, Dad. I love you.

Happy birthday.

i'm NOT a hamburglar!

The Pukelet

it is with much sheep that i write about the sweet potatoes we again gave the pooklet, and the vomit those sweet potatoes again became. We found him, after only a couple cries (brave, brave, little pooklet), looking pathetic in a mess of potato.

pookie yesterday relayed to me the "load" theory of allergens which might explain this. if your pooklet has an allergy to cats, for example, and he has a reaction to rice cereal for whatever reason, these two build up a load of irritants that may only then require a minor reaction to, say, sweet potatoes, to "overflow" into symptoms like vomiting. anybody buying this? sounds pretty compelling at this point, but then we don't get much in the way of certainty from medical opinion at this stage of pooklet's life.

you can't keep a good meal down

pooklet really took to sweet potatoes yesterday. it was his second time and the way the wifey described his reaction to them, you'd think it was his second favorite food.

unfortunately, his stomach revolted that night, and it all came up. again.

we're discouraged. seems everything causes a rash or vomiting.

still, it further proved pooklet's steadfast adorability. he's so cute, braving the nausea that must've accompanied his wretching, having not yet learned the ploy of crying to get more sympathy. no, when he cries, you know something's wrong.

the pooklet. the pooklet. oh, we love the pooklet.

Asian Baby Allergic to Rice

The 3/4 asian pooklet projected vomit today after our cautious reinstatement of rice cereal. it seems official. the poor pook is allergic to rice. i'm expecting this to fade as he grows. seems unlikely that he'd be allergic to rice. maybe it's just something in the constitution of the rice. i dunno. well, more updates when we have them...

Reasons to Vomit

Our little pookling vomited again today (not merely a “wet burp” as little spit-ups are called), prompting a Kaiser-recommended visit at 8:20pm.

He was weighed at 19lbs, 12.75oz.

The doctor praised pooklet’s health and demeanor, and suggested reducing his intake with each meal (several people have commented on isaac’s chunkiness, and several doctors have remarked that we feed him more than normal), and propping him up a bit when he sleeps (to guard against acid reflux). The vitamin drops we’ve been giving him might also be a culprit. She suggested we ease off the grains (rice cereal, oatmeal) we’ve recently introduced, and try potatoes and bananas instead.
She’s also “not impressed” with his “congestion.”
Pookie didn’t agree with everything the doctor said, and I could see her points, but I still ended up wanting to give more credence than Pookie to the doctor’s advice, especially since it would mean that our little pookling is healthy and exceptional.

the pooklet yaks, pt II

we decided, in light of the highest gas prices in the nation, that we'd stroll to trader joe's today, but i guess the heat was too much for the little pook, because shortly after arriving to the cool interior of the market, he threw up all over himself.

what continues to impress us, is how much of a little trooper he is. most times, the worst you get from him when he's sick or in pain, is simply a face that can't smile.

50% rollover

pooklet's been rolling onto his stomach, and then complaining that he's on his stomach. i can see the dilemma. he just needs a little more knowledge, and momentum.

so he's starting to get mobile, doing the curly shuffle in his crib each night, and pulling the occasional "reverse tortoise," the unfortunate conundrum that results when you don't have the arm strength to get back on your back.


today, we spent our date night at barnes and noble, briefly reading mo willems' genius pigeon series books to a disinterested pooklet.

First sickness

Around 9pm last night, i heard coughing through the baby monitor, and when i went in to check on him, he was vomiting copious amounts of milk (thank God he didn't start vomiting when we were in the kitchen, because the monitor was in our room).

diarrhea followed, and some crying. the advice nurse told us it was likely something he caught during the day (he had spent an hour in the health club's day care while mama pook taught her spin class). it was both sweet and sad to see on the pooklet an expression so tired and out of sorts, and put out from the nausea. and all in all, he was a trooper, suffering discomfort well.

today i took off from work to monitor the wife (who felt a bit sick herself following this episode) and the child, which ended up amounting to just enjoying them both on an unexpected day off. pooklet seemed to be over his illness with the dawn, and i got to enjoy his usual giggly self all day.

Here's a photo of him in something that soon won't fit him, from the day after his brief illness.

5 principles

For Father's Day last year, my dad gave me a little book called "A Father's Legacy: Your Life Story in Your Own Words."
Each page has prompts and lines on which to write (and my dad even typed up his own responses separately for me, which was the best part of the gift), and each night now, I try to fill in a page.

One page in particular asks for the five most important lessons you've learned in life.

I posted a couple already on this blog, but I've finally come up with five. I qualify these because they come up in my thoughts most often, but they'll most likely change. They're a dissimilar bunch, and one or two is still in the testing stage.

My friend John encouraged me to put them up, so these are the five... for now.


"Recall for me five of the most important lessons you've learned in life."

(in no particular order)
1. Recognizing which instincts serve your pride is necessary for humility
2. Be aware of how easily man's efforts tend to diminish perceived reliance on God
3. Have something to say before you go looking for a place to say it
4. Less is more
5. Don't let the search dictate what you're searching for
(This last one has its origins in an illustration class in college. A teacher cautioned us against choosing subject matter based on convenient or attractive photo reference found during the search for an original element in the illustration's sketch.
I've since remembered this precept in light of various decisions that get off-track. It's easy to pursue what's attractive or expedient, and taint the integrity of your original intent.)

That's the list as fast as I could come up with 5 decent ones without thinking too hard.

What's yours??

6-month review

19lbs (73rd percentile)
28" (91st percentile)

and his head is in the 82nd percentile.

we got a big pooklet.

Outtakes and Deleted Scenes

the windmill

there is a natural order to things, things i never saw myself participating in, no matter how many fathers before me submitted to them, like following their child everywhere with a big camera.
this past weekend, i did what every new father does, and tilted my kid upside down for the first time to make him giggle.

he turned six months last friday, and started on watered-down rice cereals. the plot thickens, and so does the food.

Remarkable illustration

I love the illustration Louie Giglio gives in his short sermon here, straight from the world of molecular biology.  Thanks to John for posting it to his blog:

def. religious

There's a great blog I check in with from time to time, on which I noticed today a great definition of the word 'religious.'

"constructing, or ascribing to, a system of meaning."

Defining the term 'religion' was something I wanted to do when expounding on the Darwin/ID debate in my review of Expelled.  Alas, I've had no time the past week to even write about what's been going on with the pooklet (with even one blog entry thrown in unfinished), let alone get into a topic that extensive.

Still, I'll post the above definition so I remember it, and hope to speak more on it in the near future.

memoirs

My dad, for last father's day, gave me a book to write memoirs in for my kid(s).  Each page begins with a question, and one of the questions has stumped me because it asks for 5 phrases to live by. Well, like so much else, good phrases come to mind when i'm nowhere near something to write on, so now, whenever possible, I'm going to rush to a computer when they strike, and put them down here.  And so begins the category of entries titled "memoirs."  They don't have to be quotes by others, but my first two happen to be.

"The truth will out" (Shakespeare)

"Always have something to say before looking for a place to say it. (paraphrased from Dallas Willard)" (This is something I keep in mind often when blogging)

medical journal

5.3.2008

I rode my bike for, like, the third time in two and a half years, to my dermatologist appointment, and realized that my pro-preventative care clinic doesn't have any bike racks.

Since my flucinonide hasn't cured my shin exzema, I got a prescription for clobetasol, which is stronger.

So this is my new regimen to survive the central valley:

2x/day:

Q-tip hydrocortisone on ears

thin layer of clobetasol on left shin, upper right back, behind right knee. three weeks max, then one week off.

Adorex (better than benadryl) antihistimine before bed.  I can be upgraded to Lydex if Adorex aint cuttin it.

Refrigerated Sarna for anti-itch relief

and, of course, vaseline.

this is the pooklet's routine for his "pretty mild" active exzema:

cetaphil 1x/day

mustela 2x/day minimum

bathe 1x day

0.25% hydrocortisone on irritated spots under his ears (topical steroids are safe for infants, according to the doctor)

Hm. I have here in my notes, but not in my recollection, we're supposed to administer triamcinolone under the moisturizers?  Ahh, triamcinolone.  That takes me back

*aquaphor is recommended as superior and longer-lasting than mustela, but much more difficult to apply.

For his flaky and slightly scabby scalp, baby or mineral oil is OK, but we began using another mustela product.

The doctor told us that diaper rashes, pooklet's recurring problem, are generally not caused by food allergies, and the more foods we can expose him to, the better, which is encouraging, given the soy and dairy his mother has given up.  Other good news is that judging by how good pooklet's skin is now, it's unlikely that he'll turn out to be one of the more severe cases of exzema we'd heard about.

Late Posts: Pooklet's 5-month Birthday Observed

April 22, 2008

The Pookies got an unexpected date night last night when Pookie suggested we get half-price tapas at Alder Market Bistro.

Isaac showed his new behavior in public, talking in mini-shrieks. He refused to be silenced by the bink. But he wasn't so much a nuisance as a harbinger of louder cries to come in quieter restaurants. He just wanted to talk. It was cute the way he contentedly quieted when his mama finally picked him up out of the car seat and held him.

By the way, he all but said, "Hi!" to me in the backseat on our way to the restaurant. It was more like an "I!" which is half his name so, either way, it's a victory-in-the-making. I've been repeating the phrases "Hi, Isaac!" and "Hi, Daddy!" lately in hopes that he'll one day greet me after work. I'm hoping for the latter.

Anyway, when we got home, Pookie surprised me with a clean, vacuumed bedroom floor and a made bed, the two surfaces that make the most difference when they're clean. It was so nice walking to the bathroom this morning and feeling a clean carpet. It was actually peaceful to see a sea of uncluttered white before me in the quiet of the morning.

April 24, 2008

The Pookie is cracking down on keeping the pooklet on a schedule.

Starting today, she has her blackberry reminding her when his Pookness should eat and sleep. We're reducing the margin of error that undisciplined good intentions allows. Any fussing we can reduce by being more consistent is our goal. So this morning,m I had my direction from the wif to open the blinds in the room of pooklet for a natural, but quicker wakey-wake. A more intrusive way to facilitate this, by contrast, would be to stand on the changing table and take photos in rapid succession, which is what I did soon after drawing the blinds. Yes, I woke him up doing this, but I got this 1-second sleep smile before he woke.

Big Science: The Sound of One Hand Clapping

One of the problems with writing a review of Expelled: No Intelligence Allowed is that it will fall on too many deaf ears. Before seeing it yesterday, I read one complete review and several excerpts of reviews from prominent news journals bashing it. The falsehoods and misinterpretations I came across made me want to respond but reading some of these angry-sounding reviews also made me think that a truthful response isn’t what this crowd wants. As appealing as debates sometimes are as an information source, they don’t seem particularly effective in turning people against whatever belief they came in with. In the end, I suppose the best debates, even if ineffective, happen between friends, who have less pride at stake. No bloggers involved and you still part as friends.

Here’s the synopsis of Expelled. Ben Stein shows us that educators and scientists are being ridiculed, denied tenure and even fired for believing that there might be evidence of design in nature instead of accidental and random chance.

I recommend this film because it’s a comprehensive look at the suppression of scientific freedom that’s going on. It’s also an entertaining film. Let me get the film’s mechanics out of way first. Director Frankowski keeps what is essentially a film of interviews interesting with good camerawork. Wide-angle lenses (including fisheye) and time lapse photography always entertain me (I suppose that’s something of a confession). The framing of the interviews changes enough without being distracting. Frankowski and editor Simon Tondeur use archival footage well throughout the film for both humor and pathos, intercut to drive home various points. Andy Hunter and Robbie Bronnimann complement the pacing with a good soundtrack, and Stein keeps things humorous by being himself.

All of these kudos can be reversed, of course, if you’re an antitheistic evolutionist. I’ve read reviews that criticize the elements above as irritants in the service of an over-the-top propaganda piece.


So, the Debate:

• The evolutionists in the film don’t see Intelligent Design as science, nor do they see Darwinism failing to meet any of the same criteria by which they judge ID. They don’t know how life originated, yet they know it wasn’t designed.
• The Intelligent Design (ID) advocates want equal time in labs and classrooms with the simple proposition that people be allowed to choose which theory makes more sense.

The reigning attitude of the evolutionist scientists interviewed seems surly, defensive, and annoyed. One scientist seems irritated at hearing Stein repeat his question on how living tissue was formed from non-living matter, yet the response he gives is only “one hypothesis,” and that of something as strange and hard to grasp as cells piggy-backing onto crystal formations. This in my opinion summarizes the anti-ID stance in Expelled, short on answers, long on attitude. When legitimate questions are asked about holes in evolutionary theory, the response is one of exasperation instead of a coherent answer. ID advocates in the film are treated as naïve children or as a religious menace but many of the “Big Science” names left me incredulous with some of their assertions. Richard Dawkins, the most prominent evolution voice interviewed in the film, has the most remarkable responses at the end of the film.
It's a random point, but Stein’s uniquely comatose demeanor is well-suited to interviewees that want to be heard and not interrupted.

A couple more random points and I'm done (It's already a day late and 10pm on Sunday night).

In comparing notes with both my pastor and my wife, and in assessing Roger Friedman’s review, I’ve drawn the conclusion that the more you know about this debate going into the film, the more linear the structure will seem. Still it’s worth a viewing if you can learn one new thing in this debate.

In the film, Paul Nelson of the Discovery Institute makes the point that ID is not a Christian movement. People of different faiths, including agnostics, are involved in the support of ID research and education. However, according to many evolution exclusivists, ID can’t be science because it’s “religion” (Never mind the categorical overlap if the creator of all life is worthy of praise). However, religion needs to be clearly defined for the evolution lobby to make a case with it. “Creationism” is a religious term used derogatorily in the film by evolution scientists to put ID in its place (privatized and separate from science) but religion itself doesn’t necessitate God or even ID. After all, the US Supreme Court has stated that even Secular Humanism is a religion.

It is my hope that in the next few days I’ll continue this post with some interesting points from Norm Geisler’s and Frank Turek’s book I Don’t Have Enough Faith to be an Atheist. I’d written off writing a review of this book, but it’d be nice to review the portions I highlighted, and continue with posts a little deeper than:

“We sucked two boogers out of the pooklet’s nose today.”

a day without work and a blog length to prove it

It turns out that I require antibiotics for one swollen, infected eczema ear.
The doctors at Kaiser really do seem to assess only that which you verbalize and point directly at, even if you’re pointing at something only half an inch away from a swollen, red, pus-filled, scabby ear. I woulda thought I didn’t need to point that one out to him. Anyway, one of the many blessings of marriage, for men in particular, is a woman who will hound her husband for his health, and compensate for the man’s lack of interest in doctor visits and medicine. Hooray for the wif who triumphed over doctor negligence (he was a man, after all), and got things done. I hadn’t even bothered to look at the state of my ear, but in the course of the day’s pooklet photography, I discovered just how bad it was.

I believe in patient responsibility, that we shouldn’t needlessly raise the cost of healthcare by going in every time we have a sniffle or an ingrown nail, but that we should practice preventative healthcare (Kaiser facilitates this well – we live off their advice nurses). I, however, have a tendency to be lazy on the whole with my body, and too easily forego healthcare in general, the clinic and the self-preservation.

Since Pooklet has been grabbing things more and more recently, I offered my face in his crib yesterday when his arms were flailing around in search of something, anything. He promptly grabbed at my face. He even picked my nose.
He’ll also grab the toys we dangle in front of him, which is a good thing to be doing according to the excruciatingly boring video “Wee Exercise.” I sure hope there are better infant exercise videos on Netflix than that one.

This morning as I fed the pooklet, relishing in my second day of pooklet in place of work, I was singing, “I love Isaac in the morning, I love Isaac in the af-ter-noon…” and he stopped drinking to smile at me. That just rules. Such a good baby is he. It makes me wonder when his innocence and wonder will fade. Anyway, this was part of my recent efforts to start using his real name instead of raising him to respond only to “pooklet.”

I’ve also been reading to him from some great children’s books. Arnold Lobel’s Frog and Toad, Kim Lewis’ Hooray for Harry, Boynton’s What’s Wrong, Little Pookie?

One thing that I’ve noticed is that our belches startle him, which serves as a pretty effective (and long overdue) admonition to the pookies.

There’s a lot of joy in feeding him and just looking into his eyes as he looks up at me, all while listening (and singing along to) the songs on ‘Sing Over Me.’

I try to keep our most useful tool, the cloth diaper, everywhere. You don’t have to use an actual cloth diaper, but it’s perfect for wiping up (and catching) spit up and drool, a necessity when feeding. So I drape one over the glider chair, his crip, in our bedroom, so I’m never far from one when the pooklet runneth over.

I've been loving our backyard lately, as everything is blooming. Today, I made a second trip with the pooklet in our baby bjorn (plant color model), and let him grab at a few leaves.


I took advantage of the good weather and our proximity to Kaiser, to jog there and pick up my antibiotics, and request a copy of my eyesight prescription (available in 2 hours). It’s been a while since I’ve run, and I suppose it’s not the best thing to do when you have a virus and an infected ear, but I was elated to avoid driving. Now my lungs feel taxed. But driving in california has become a real drag to me. Being in chicago recently made me realize how much i miss driving there. i also miss riding my single gear bike. come to think of it, i also miss the cool footage i shot of the wif and me riding our bikes a year and a half ago. i'm gonna go look for that.

Lymph nodes and legions

pooklet's diaper rash has worsened, replete with that horrible-sounding word, 'legions.'
nystatin for a prescribed 10 days and desitin for months hasn't kept it from coming back, apparently. we were directed to air out the diaper area for an hour at a time, like three times a day. this i did not do. the wif has, however, and today he peed on himself. maybe that's what it will take if the rash persists. after all, what's a little pooklet pee, anyway?
meanwhile, the pooklet is ever smiley and carefree. what a trooper. he's such a good baby. he's been sleeping easier, too. in a week, he'll be 5 months old.

i especially enjoyed his good-naturedness today because i stayed home sick. for the first time, i got a virus that introduced itself with lymph node pain. i felt nauseous this morning and slept off and on until 1. i'm contagious, but the advice nurse i called reassured us that mommy's breast milk has antibodies to keep him healthy. it's amazing that his mother produces everything he needs.

oh taste and see

Since the wif wasn't around over the weekend, I was left with feeding the pooklet defrosted milk that we froze late december. unfortunately, it seems some of it may have gone a bit sour, the wif informed me today.  Pookie, ever the more involved in pooklet's feeding, sniffed and even tasted a little of the December milk after noting the same reticence that I experienced with him over the weekend (I feel quite sheepish right now).

So now when considering frozen milk, we will taste and smell that the milk is good before forcing it on the pooklet (I picture four little tasting glasses in front of us, and commenting on the subtle undertones and good legs).

The wif deserves credit for being meticulous about freezing milk, following the more conservative estimates for milk storage and scrutinizing the collective wisdom online.  We've actually stored so much that we're sending some to Africa!  (Don't worry, it'll be pasteurized first)  I, on the other hand, haven't been nearly as meticulous in respecting its care, namely things like, ohh, I don't know... the temperature.

cries for playtime, cries for food

Slow news day on the baby front, but oh, well, here's the Daily Pooklet...


The wisdom is, at four and a half months of age, if a pooklet is traveling toward bedtime on 40oz of milk for the day, then he can sleep 9 hours straight.

Well, yesterday, he had roughly 36oz. Pookie assured me by remote that I could probably ignore his vocalizing during the night, as long as it was between 9pm and 6am. Light sleeper that I am, I awoke at 4am to one of his conversations with himself, and had to keep telling myself what I’d read in baby sleep books: don’t go for him. It’s a trap. He just wants to play. But his crying slowly and subtly became more earnest until, at 5am, I responded to what I discerned were cries for milk. After giving him 7oz, I put him down until what I hoped would be his perfectly-timed next feeding: three hours later, right before I needed to leave for church.
That’s a night in the life of a pooklet. As I understand it, these aberrations happen to mama pook, too. Someone oughta read Pooklet the rules. What part of nine hours don’t you understand??

This afternoon, he seemed to be struggling again with wanting to drink yet finding it uncomfortable. He didn't behave like the acid reflux symptoms, but rather would periodically turn to the side so that the bottle nipple would come out of his mouth. Then he'd fuss a little, I'd put the bottle back in, and he'd resume drinking vigorously. This really draws out the feeding time. I'd burp him (or at least try to) and resume. Knowing he'd missed a nap or two, I put him down a couple times, wondering if he was too tired-fussy to eat (even though I think he needed milk), thinking maybe he'd get a much-needed nap, and then drink to the full after. I eventually got him to drink it all, and now I don't hear anything on the monitor.

I just set up a CD player in the nursery, and was using it for the first time. Maybe he just doesn't like classical music.

day in the life of a PAPA!

Today, the wif flew down to LA for a bridal shower. It was my first full day alone with the pooklet. Tomorrow will be my second, as the wif won’t return till after pooklet’s gone down for the night.
Today was such a pleasant day. It was about 80 and sunny, but even nicer was the pace at which I got to operate. I dedicated myself to tending to pooklet’s care and devevlopment. I was meticulous about feeding, moisturizing, and putting him to bed, keeping track of times and ounces on my blackberry calendar.
It was idyllic. Perfect scheduling, perfect child.
I thought I wouldn’t have to venture out at all and compromise his sleep schedule, until I realized there were only about 7 dumplings left in the freezer.
So when the pooklet awoke next, I plopped him in the BOB and drove him to Costco for a pizza at the food court.
I was happy it was the first tank-top-weather day of the year until I realized that my brand new Jordan bulls jersey was bright red in a town full of norteños and sureños. I figured I was safe pushing a stroller.
But then, the stroller is sort of red, too.
On the way to costco, pooklet had a really heartbreaking look of disappointment that said, “I wanted to play, daddy… Why are you sealing me inside a vehicle?
On the return trip, he dozed a little, which threw him off a little when we resumed feedings and sleepings. But perhaps the real issue was his underdeveloped esophageal flap or whatever because he struggled with the bottle, pushing away and leaning back and whining, and then whining for the bottle when I took it away. He was like, “Owie, owie, owie! … Hey! I didn’t say ‘stop.'”
But at the most difficult hour, he went down surprisingly well, despite the trauma of forcing milk down. We’re trying to give him 40 oz. a day now.

Since I did very little besides hold the pooklet in the bedroom with the sliding glass door open, I got to enjoy the simpler things in life, like my neighbor’s fruit tree overhang.


I’m listening to some of Andy Hunter’s new tracks. I bought a few of his April 8 releases on iTunes, as well as some brown Born dress shoes that I tried on at Dillard’s last night. Man, what a convenience. $50 cheaper online, easy return policy with prepaid shipping labels, and even a 10% off coupon I found at another site (The wif got me into that habit).

The pookies realized last night that shopping at malls has risen in our perception far beyond the old categories of trivial errand-running. With a babysitter freeing us up, we really enjoyed a proper date night with frou-frou appetizers and a trip to the mall. I’m telling you, after a child, everything’s special when it’s just the two of you.

No Intelligence Allowed

In my new issue of WORLD, there's an ad for an independent film that caught my attention.  Ben Stein has made a documentary about Darwinian scientists and the prejudiced suppression of Intelligent Design (ID).  The trailers look great.  They already have a different one up this morning than the one I watched last night.  Expelled is the name of the film and it opens one week from today, April 18 (thankfully, right here in town).  Andy Hunter is even collaborating on the music.  Here's a film worth finding a babysitter for.

I encourage everyone to see this film.  It's worthy of support in its limited-release opening weekend as an underdog truth message.  In addition to entertainment value, it looks to be a clear presentation of a legitimate counterpoint that's absent from many evolution-dominated forums.

See these worldview candidates side by side and judge for yourself.

Pookie Lit.

The Friends of Pookie East Coast Chapter surprised us the other day with a book they sent us that will be instrumental in our Pooklet's education:

This is one of the best books I've read, and I'm a discerning reader.  Never mind the Pooklet, this is going in my library. 

For a relentlessly humorous and random read, I also recommend the author's website.

Trip to Chicago - end

This is the view from the terrace of Moody Church's Christian Life Center.  It was great being back in Chicago, but it made me miss it a lot more, even with the cold.  I guess I missed the cold a little too.

Tony's Gyros at Chicago and Rush

I seized every opportunity to take back a 4x6 souvenier of the city.

Much can be accomplished by laying on the ground and tilting your camera.  It takes a man of little shame to run ahead of his family on a crowded sidewalk, dive to the ground, and turn around to get what most people don't value in the first place, exciting, low-angle "nausea" shots.

Somehow on this one, I triggered the b/w function, and panicked trying to get back to the world of color.

Pooklet in the land of chocolate, Moonstruck, Chicago.

My old favorite, the Mint Tingle, next to Pooklet's old favorite, breast milk.

The Baby Bjorn is really pretty cool.  Not only does it come in a nice 0live green with vibrant lime piping, but it serves multiple functions:

1. It frees up both hands so you can strangle your spouse (or whomever) and let the pooklet participate
   
2. It soothes your pooklet by putting him next to your scent, warmth, and heartbeat.  awwww.
   
3. It consoles him when he cries if you bounce him up and down
   
4. It develops your back muscles (or your back pain, depending on your posture)
   
5. It allows you to board and exit aircraft, especially when the terminal's under construction and they make you walk out to and up a staircase into the plane
   
6. With a blanket, it lets you hide the pooklet and make strangers wonder if it isn't some kind of animal under there

BiPolar Bear

Last night, the pooklet was crying as per his nightly routine, going out with a bang before going down for the night.  Unable to soothe him, and lacking any better ideas, I resorted to "The Elevator," a technique proven to stop crying.  To my surprise, he not only stopped crying as I lifted him up and down, but he started giggling!  He even kept giggling a little when I stopped.  And then, as I cradled him gently again, he resumed crying.  Our little bipolar bear.

Out-of-sequence Pooklet updates

Things have been busy and I've been tired this past weekend, and this blog is dangerously close to being an idol sometimes, I swear. I just told my wife that I can't chat with her because "I have to blog." Truthfully, though, I just want to paste what I'd already text'd into my blackberry over the past few days. Be right there, Pookie!!


4.3.08
Pooklet was mind-numbingly cute when he arrived in the car after work yesterday. It's amazingly heart-warming to be giggled at by a 4-month-old with no teeth.

He still fusses when I hold him, though, as he reminded me after his dinner that evening. He likes to hold his own bottle, by the way, and only needs a little bit of help with that, even with the long, glass ones. He also sometimes clings to one of my fingers for dear life while drinking. Heh. Cute.

One of the precautions we've adopted lately is putting socks on his hands (OK, part precaution, part entertainment). He has little scratches on his face cuz he claws at himself when he sleeps. Despite the eczema that has shown up on his body, it doesn't appear that he's scratching an itch in this instance. He's just being a weirdo.

Plugging his mouth with a pacifier (binkification) is often difficult even when he's not scratching, cuz he keeps his fists against his face when he's waking or falling asleep. It's like playing the windmill in miniature golf, trying to get the binky in the mouth.

4.4.08
Pooklet's been talking more the last week or so, with more robust sounds and different combinations of sounds. I can’t wait for him to grow into his exuberance and get an actual English vocabulary.

Today he had his long-awaited GI specialist appointment in Sacramento, and it was a relief to learn that occasional (weekly-biweekly) bits of bright red blood in his diapie is no cause for alarm if he’s eating and eliminating normally. Good to hear.

Here are the latest stats, too:

15lbs, 13oz., and 66cm. = 26"

He does, however, have some “legions,” broken skin around his, um, diaper area, so for 10 days, we have to alternate nystatin (for legions/fungus prevention), and desitin (to kill bacteria), each twice a day, and air his butt out for an hour after changing each diapie. We’ve already cut that down to almost nil drying time.

We also got the go-ahead to start the pooklet on rice cereals at 6 months. The specialist also recommends 2-3 yrs of breast milk in the bottle, since it’s his best defense.

4.5.08
I learned that simply moving Pooklet’s arms laterally, and not necessarily making him tickle himself, makes him giggle. It also helps if you get him started by giggling yourself.

Trip to Chicago - 3/26/08

This is Pooklet wearing his first snowflake in Wheeling, IL, as we're leaving a friend's house. Our friend teaches at Moody Bible Institute and, along with his wife, gave us some beloved pre-marital counseling before we headed off to California. They continue to give us their beloved friendship. Our counselor is on his way to a doctorate with his recently completed thesis on Song of Solomon. Speaking of Song of Solomon, has anyone heard Tommy Nelson's series on it? Search for him on iTunes. Well worth your time.

Here's a grandpook with the pooklet.


We got to see Moody Church's new Christian Life Center for the first time, and man, is it nice. It has really great details, too, which is refreshing to see in a church. Modern, timeless, subtle. Here's one of the gathering spots...



The main purpose of our trip was to see two friends marry, two who contributed music to our own wedding. I went nuts with Moody's giant sanctuary and my new camera, and had a lot of fun with the elegance and scale of it all.
This young man at the organ is a true virtuoso. I'd forgotten how I used to admire his piano talent, coupled with an intensity and a reverence I perceived in him. He's a really good-natured guy with a sense of humor, which a shot this imposing belies.


We sat with friends during the reception, and the Pooklet met his match. They had a Cute-Off.


More to come as soon as I sort out the rest of the photos.

Trip to Chicago – 3/26/08

The last week was a hectic but enjoyable vacation to see isaac's grandpooks and a wedding in Chicago. Blogging was near impossible after the first day, so I have some catch-up to do.



vacation in the life of a pooklet

3/25
Last-minute packing last night and today before our drive from work to san jose. I don’t know how to get there, how long it’ll take, or even what time our flight leaves tomorrow. These are the things I’ve left to the wif, who is more experienced in coordinating peoples’ schedules and in getting the best price.

The night before our 8am flight from Mineta Airport, we stayed with three pharmacists-in-training from pookie’s small group. This was to give us a 15-minute drive to our flight, instead of a 2-knows-how-long-hours drive. We slept on a brand-new aerobed we got on sale at Bed Bath and Beyond and left it at our friends’ unfurnished apartment. Ah, modern living solutions.


Regarding re-packing, if you aren’t already conditioned to do this, I recommend taking extra empty Ziploc bags and travel-sized plastic containers (available at Target) for last-minute and unforeseen suitcase-content rearranging, like when pill consolidation becomes the crucial final stage in excising that smallest of suitcases from your entourage.

My coworker lent us her Eddie Bauer compact carrying port-a-bed for the pooklet, which we put to use only at our first stop, the house o’ pharmacists. It’s compact with a handle, and fits our 26” pooklet just fine. A Pooky recommendation if you can put it to use.

Our friend Steponme drove us to the airport the next morning. However, shortly after she dropped us off and we got into the security line, Pookie realized that we’d forgotten the car seat base, that which is forever latched into our backseat, and incredibly difficult to remember if you’re supposed to take it with you on a plane. So, set a reminder on your phone, write it on your hand, but avoid the mistake we made. In the end, it just amounted to a return trip for our friend, and Pookie standing in line again while I waited with the pooklet in the stroller. What we failed to remember, however, was the breast pump cups we also left in the car. That would’ve been disastrous. There’s probably some method of creating a checklist of every necessary item and ensuring that you know that they're all accounted for by the time you go through security, but I’ve yet to master it.
By the way, they let you carry bottles of milk through security. Just have them out. We’d been advised to feed the baby on takeoff and landing to help with the pressure change.

A fellow new mother-friend had recommended boarding as late as possible on assigned-seat carriers (like our United), to reduce the time spent cramped and trapped in the plane seat as much as possible.
For United’s 4hr 30min. flight to Chicago, however, with a 4-month old baby, we didn’t think it mattered much, and in the end, it didn’t, especially since pre-boarding is per section now, as in, pre-boarding for section A, pre-boarding B, etc., meaning you don’t get much of a jump on things if you’re not in the first section. And then, it was understaffed and disorganized at the gate, so we jumped into line late anyway.

We carried on our super-hecka-awesome BOB Revolution stroller (It’s so fun to break down, and even has a handle!) and Peg Pérego car seat (which fits the BOB if you buy the BOB’s car seat bracket). At the gate you just ask for a tag, and they apparently store strollers separate in the cargo from the luggage. I guess it’s a step up from risking mangling-proximity with the suitcases. Still, we were misled in advance to believe that it would be going in with the peoples, not some glorified check-through business…


We ran into my friend Sharon at the gate. The first from my old capoeira clique to see the pooklet.

We were blessed to have a down-to-earth and accommodating gentleman as our seatmate, who let both pookies get up to use the toilet twice. He assured us at the outset that we needn’t worry about any crying because “we’d never see any of these people again.” It helps to sit next to parents who can relate.

The pooklet flew well, snug as a bug in a flying rug. Someone told us that 4 months isn’t the problem age, though, so we’ll see what the future holds for the traveling triptych of pookies.

parenting field research

Our week-long trip to chicago has delayed things severely, but today begins a three-day weekend (well-timed!), so here begins the catch-up...

Before I post the details of the trip, I'd like to document what we've learned the past week or so in the way of parenting tips (Parents: please don't hesitate to weigh in).

Saturday, we attended our friends' wedding at The Moody Church, and during the reception, got to pick the brains of a family of five that we know. One tip they shared with us was having everyone sit together at dinner until everyone has finished their meal. They've done this since their first child was old enough to sit at the table. The benefit they've reaped is well-behaved children in restaurants.

I also observed an impressive mother of five frequently curbing her special-needs daughter's uninhibited gesturing during the reception. Every time her daughter vocalized or raised an arm, her mother would gently subdue the distraction, and always with a loving smile. It's interesting that constant behavior modification (or discipline, if you like) can amount to more smiles, at least more than many distracted parents give in conversation settings like this. Unique love reinforcement opportunities.

This same mother later reminded us to make an effort to continue in dating one another, in order to maintain the romance that acts as preventative marriage maintenance. The Pookies consequently discussed which habits we should and could implement in our week, and Pookie suggested that date night could actually be a date morning, since so often I'm tired at the end of the week at the end of the day and consequently less conversational during what's supposed to be a special time together. Saturday mornings after my coffee is a candidate on the horizon...

Sunday, the wifey pook read from one of my mother's parenting books, and gave us this tip: Spend 15 minutes a day with each child. During this time, the goal is to learn about your child's likes, and to avoid disciplining attitudes and measures as much as possible.

Monday, the parents of Saturday's bride impressed upon us the dangers of resorting to using the mommy-daddy bed as a sleep aid for your fussy pooklet. They reaped the consequences of that as one of their children grew as a toddler. However, they also gave us hope by relating to us that this same child learned to use the toilet at only one year of age. I think Pookie's mom gave us similar advice: Just sit the little booger down on the pot and get 'er used to her future potty home as soon and as often as possible.

I also read an article in the chicago tribune that reminded me of what a couple other books of ours taught, that babies should sleep after every 90 minutes awake. What I was more impressed by, though, was the writer's commentary on parenting philosophy on the first 6 months. In generations past, mothers stayed at home during the first half-year of the child's life, to ensure healthy sleep habits, something we are constantly preoccupied with. Nowadays, parents are all about retaining their social freedom at the expense of their baby's schedule. And it never fails, that the more we take the pooklet out and about, the more things with which we thwart his sleep regularity, the more likely he'll fuss that night.
Parenthood is sacrifice in service of your child. There's no getting around it. Yet I think our selfish nature tries to resist as much sacrifice as possible, till we're doing the bare minimum (according to society's current trends) as we can get away with.
I believe there's satisfaction in putting the child first (outside of facilitating co-dependence) just like there's satisfaction in putting your spouse first, in serving your family before self. The sooner you embrace that truth, the sooner you can concentrate on it and lose the tension that comes from fighting it, because, after all, the fighting, if you choose it, won't end. And there's joy in humility, especially in light of the future you can have with the greater rewards of a mature, loving family, instead of the lonely, logical end of a self-serving life.

It's just 6 months.

Freedom necessitates boundaries

Will adults in our society restrict their own freedom to promote children's welfare?

That's a question posited, in a wonderful interview in WORLD magazine, by David Tubbs, professor at The King's College, NYC. He's written a book that I'd love to read, Freedom's Orphans: Contemporary Liberalism and the Fate of American Children.

Tubbs examines "the great expansion of individual rights in American law over the past six decades" that came with little attention to their implications for children.

My favorite part of his interview elucidates the difference between positive and negative freedom. He reveals the enslaving consequences of undiscerning freedom:

The more widely known idea is "negative": It means "absence of restraint" or "the liberty to choose." But there's another idea of freedom, the "positive" notion. It means "self-governance." We can grasp this idea if we think of persons becoming "enslaved" to dangerous passions--such as drink, drugs, or pornography. This idea of freedom makes it easier, for example, to justify laws that ban the sale of addictive drugs (even though these laws restrict choice), because a person who becomes addicted is no longer "self-governing. ... Education promotes self-governance, and we don't let children choose whether they will be educated. Instead, we require schooling, because an illiterate person is radically dependent on others and therefore "unfree."

He also notes that religious observances, despite being alleged as oppressive, have, in the West, long been thought to promote positive freedom. He cites John 8:23, a crucial worldview passage by which Christians ought to live: "If you continue in My (Jesus') word, you are truly My disciples, and you will know the truth and it will make you free." He then notes:

Religious observance helps many people to resist potentially destructive passions and impulses and therefore promotes their freedom.

Tubbs also differentiates between "classical" and "contemporary liberalism:"

Contemporary liberals tend to think that personal freeedom for adults is
presumptively more important than any competing social interest, including many
pertaining to the welfare of children. Classical liberals have a broader understanding of the public good and are less likely to accept such a presumption.

Another observation Tubbs makes is in regard to a wavering adult perception of children's vulnerability:

We no longer have religious exercises in public schools partly because the High Court has said that children who don't want to participate in the exercises can be "indirectly coerced" into participating. To accept this theory of "indirect coercion," we must assume that children are psychologically and morally frail. That is a broadly accurate characterization of children, but the Supreme Court should be consistent in applying it. When, for example, the Court decides cases in which adults assert free-speech rights to pornography and children are exposed to such images, the Court usually depicts children as morally sturdy and somehow "inoculated" against pornography. This is a huge inconsistency in First Amendment law."

As we consider the notion of homeschooling our kids, we regardless face with certainty our responsibility to define the pooklet's freedoms as he gets older. Likewise, it is incumbent upon us to consider the implications of a biblical worldview as we engage our culture. I struggle daily with presenting the winsomness of the gospel (and the worldview it creates), because it requires confrontation with the sin we're all loathe to part with, namely the pride of presumed rights and deservations (if that's a word). There is always a beautiful view of life atop the mountain peak, but it's getting through the valley of difficult truths that's the hard part.