Pipes and cracks

It was the annual pipefitters union picnic last weekend. Anni's dad is a pipefitter (for the uninitiated, that is not the same as a plumber), so I think his dues covered the cost for the whole family to feast on picnic food, watermelon, beverages and ice cream for the afternoon. We appreciated the invitation and had a good time.
The real picnic highlight, though, is saved for the kids. There are games and plenty of candy, cash and prizes for the winners.
Elise did well at the game for toddlers, which wasn't as much a game as it was an opportunity for kids to step inside a circle and pick up candy scattered on the ground. Based on the photos below, we concluded that Elise had plenty of candy but could have used a belt.

58 -- and no green ones

It's a belated but bountiful season for the tomato plants in the backyard garden. They're starting to come in almost faster than we can pick them all.
Elise took care of the cherry tomato plant this evening, picking 58 tomatoes in about 10 minutes. Best part: She picked only one that wasn't red. She chucked it in the yard.
"It's for the bunnies," she said.
We have one cherry tomato plant and four other plants that are producing nearly softball-sized tomatoes that are fantastic. It's time to start perfecting the red sauce recipe...

The rollover

Colin was three weeks old today. He celebrated by rolling over from his stomach to his back for the first time, which I guess is as good a way as any for a newborn to mark three weeks.

Elise and 'Colin boy'

I'm a slow learner, but I've figured out this much: There are moments you experience -- sometimes fleeting, sometimes longer-lasting -- as a parent that leave you thinking to yourself: "Self, despite all of your many parenting screw-ups, you must be doing something right."

I had one of those moments shortly after Colin was born. But luckily for Anni and I, it lasted about 15 minutes.

Colin was born on a Monday morning, and with the birth, then the post-surgery recovery, and then the move to Anni's hospital room, it was mid- to late-afternoon before we were settled. There was a long line of nurses, doctors and PCAs visiting, along with our family. Because of those first-day activities, Elise didn't have much time to see Colin.

The following day, I picked up Elise from school and we drove to the hospital to visit. On the way there I reminded her that we were going to see "Mom and Colin."

"First I will see Colin, then I will see Mom," Elise said, repeating it a few times to make sure I understood. (That's life for Anni: Just starting to recover from giving birth and already knocked down the family totem pole.)

We got to the hospital and Elise beelined it to Anni's room. They were waiting for us.

"I can hold him?" Elise asked.

She's really good with babies, so it wasn't an issue. She sat in a chair and I put a pillow on her lap, then Colin on the pillow. I sat in the chair next to her and snapped some pictures but then Anni and I just watched as Elise held Colin for about 15 minutes. She didn't say much, occasionally breaking her silence with observations about his face, ears, hands, etc. She didn't flail or bounce him from her lap. She understood what to do and was gentle with him. This, coming from the girl who sometimes pinches as a strange sign of affection.

Here's a little of what we saw:

With that, we were off to a good start. Elise assumed the role of watchful older sister, keeping a close eye on Colin in the hospital room. When he cried, she wanted to know why. When I wheeled him to the nursery for a routine test, Elise was in tow. When the nurses tried to take Colin from the room, Elise actually cried.

 She stood at the window to watch the nurses take Colin into the nursery.

 

In the past two weeks, Elise frequently has asked to hold Colin. She lays next to him. She kisses and hugs him. She helps to change his diaper; she likes doing the "snaps" on his clothes.

When he's crying, she sometimes consoles him by rubbing his head and saying, "It's OK, Colin boy." We're not sure where that came from, but even I'll admit it's pretty cute. She also calls him "little man," which she started at the hospital, and we're not sure where that came from either.

Anni put Colin on his stomach for "tummy time." Elise enjoyed it more than he did.

I'm sure this doting phase will give way to Elise's conclusion that this annoying attention-grabber is here to stay, and then we'll be on the receiving end of the antics that go with that.

When that happens, we'll just watch the video above.

The visitors

A family of four, including a newborn and a toddler, can only handle each other for so long inside a hospital room, so it's nice to have visitors. We had lots of those during Anni and Colin's four-day hospital stay, and more once they got home. We appreciate everyone's time, company and desire to be there. 

Here are a few of the snapshots from the hospital stay and at home.

Might as well start with the aunts, since they were the first to oh-so-gently ask me to give up Colin so they could hold him shortly after he was born. "Oh, yeah, I suppose you want to do that," I said.

The grandmas

The grandpas 

"Fertility" cousin Luke (ask for an explanation)

Colin's cousins: Samantha, Jacob and Randy

Jenee and Greg visited the house soon after Anni and Colin came home.

Last but not least, a visit from our friends the Singels confirmed that we are, indeed, now a party of eight, which means restaurants must push tables together for a group that just a short time ago squeezed into a booth. Think that's no big deal? It feels like we've given up the cozy sedan for a mini-van.

Colin's apparently so sweet that Dan and Erin's son, Mason, wanted a nibble.

The chicken or the carton?

I was showing Elise a book that has a picture of eggs and chickens.
"Elise, where do eggs come from?" I asked her.
She paused to think.
"From a box," she replied.
Oh, of course.

'OK. Here we go.'

This will be long and it's more for our recollection down the road, so if it's too long just look at the pictures and move along.

And we're off...

The story of Colin's birth starts at The Strip Club. 

For those wondering where this is headed, no worries; The Strip is our go-to restaurant. Think steaks, not skin. It's a great St. Paul joint with top-notch food, drink and service.

After dropping off Elise at Anni's parents' house last Sunday night -- the night before the birth -- we decided to head to The Strip for our last dinner for two for a while. (Anni couldn't eat or drink after midnight the night before the c-section, so why not make it a good "final" meal?)

We were back home early enough to get a solid, uninterrupted night of sleep. Except that there was tedious  but necessary stuff to do.

It seemed to me that we did a better job of getting stuff -- baby items, house cleaning, health insurance changes, etc. -- ready before leaving for the hospital for Elise. In all honesty, though, Anni did the same good prep this time and it was just me who realized the day before Colin was born that I should probably get that car seat situation sorted out. It involved the eventual shuffling of five car seats in two cars, only one of which is actually ours. It's a longer story than this will be and I will spare you.

So after returning from dinner and wrapping up odds and ends, we crashed. That's because Anni had the early surgery and a 5:30 a.m. wake-up comes early, even for those of us with small children accustomed to early mornings.

Anni as we walked out the door for the hospital.

We left the house a bit later and talked about how great it'd be if Anni had the same surgery prep nurse as last time. She was phenomenal: comfortable, funny and good, and she put Anni at ease. 

As we walked through the hospital hallway to get to the birthing area, a woman rushed by us. 

"That's her," I told Anni. "That's (the nurse)."

Shockingly, Anni questioned my memory. No matter, I was sure it was the nurse.

---

Like few other places do, being in a hospital brings back memories of your last hospital visit. The lighting, the routine, the smells -- blankets, the scrubs, even the hand soap -- and even the layout of medical equipment in a room. I even remembered how no matter where I stood, I was in the way.

It was all coming back to me. Granted, Elise was born less than three years ago, but it seemed like a long time ago. That is, until we were back in the same surgery prep room and in walked the same nurse.

"You're so-and-so," I told her. (Only family and friends need to be named.)

"Yeah, and you and your wife look familiar," she replied.

"Well, my wife's going to be happy to see you," I said.

And she was. Anni was thrilled to see that nurse, and for the next hour or two before the surgery our conversation bounced from pain medication to vacations, from saline bags to the challenges of raising multiple children.

Then we started talking about baby names. We struggled with boy names up until the final week, but the nurse had some interesting suggestions based on actual names given to babies at the hospital in recent months or years.

"We had a Placenta," she said.

Really, that was a name, but it wasn't the most baffling name.

"And there was a Chlamydia," she said.

No, really. That was an actual baby name. 

We had a good chat, and the nurse had a good memory. We talked about pictures taken of newborns with their parents.

"I took care of a woman whose husband was a photographer, and he asked that I take a picture because they had a blog. But after I took the picture, the guy looked at it and said: 'Well, it's fine. We'll take another later.'"

There was a pause.

"Wait, that wasn't you, was it?" she asked.

Yes, it was.

---

Anni's surgery got bumped because of another more urgent situation, so we waited some more. She finally was wheeled into the operating room and I was told to assume my position, which meant I was to stay put for a while and they'd call me in shortly before they baby would be born.

There were strict instructions that we had gone nine months without knowing whether we were having a boy or a girl and Anni only would find out by me telling her, not by having some enthusiastic blabbermouth doc blurt out the gender before the delivery's even done. 

Anni made sure to remind the doctors of that.

Eventually I was called into the operating room and told to sit next to Anni's head, a spot from which a view of the actual surgery was obstructed.

It's common for guys to drop to the floor at the sight of a c-section delivery, but I don't get too weirded out by the sight of blood.

"Can I stand up and watch?" I asked the nurse anesthetist. 

"Not if it's going to be a short viewing," he said.

The lead-up to the delivery isn't very emotional for me; aside from the expected concern that goes with a major surgery, I'm more fascinated by the procedure. It's not often you watch a surgery while standing next to the patient, but I wasn't going to argue with the nurse anesthetist so I waited, making small talk with Anni.

Some time went by.

"OK, here we go," one of the doctors announced as the baby was about to be delivered. I was told to stand up.

At 10:17 a.m. Anni's doctor held up a healthy looking baby and that nurse anesthetist excitedly shouted out "It's a ..." before he was shouted down by just about everyone in the room.

Anni's doctor looked at me to make sure I saw the relevant parts of the baby. 

I had been right all along. From the very beginning, I had a strange hunch we were having a boy. But I made sure to look a little longer to make sure I knew what I was staring at because, well, it'd be bad to screw up that announcement.

I sat down next to Anni.

"Elise has a brother," I told her.

---

We didn't immediately decide on the name, but picked Colin Richard before the baby and I went to a waiting area while Anni's surgery wrapped up. The three of us hung out for a bit as they got Anni situated in recovery.

 

They let our family into the room in small groups to see the baby before we moved up to Anni's hospital room.

Anni and Colin stayed at the hospital for four days and had great care. The nurses and staff were great. Anni did a great job, despite a slightly slower recovery. 

 

 

 

  

 Your departure from the hospital with a newborn is not marked by anything other than "congratulations" from the nurses. I mean, they don't even have you sign anything. You're just supposed to leave when you're ready. 

So we did.

The deep thinker

Colin is one week old today. He took some time to think about that milestone.

Settling in

Today was only Day 2 for Colin, but already a strong bond seems to be forming. Between mom and baby -- of course. But also between Elise and Colin. More on that soon.
Meantime, most everything is going well. The up-and-down blood-glucose readings for Colin yesterday have normalized. Anni's doing well, but was in some pain today. We're hoping that will go away quickly.
Colin slept for most of the afternoon and evening, but was wide awake tonight -- not a good sign for a mom who's hoping for a long block of sleep.
I've got a lot of pictures to post, but for now here are a few more from yesterday and today.

The similarities to Elise when she was a newborn are amazing.

Nap time for both.

She just sat quietly and held him.

Elise just wanted to be with Colin -- and the zebra.

Welcome

Colin Richard Wente

Born: 10:17 a.m. Aug. 8

Weight: 9 pounds 4 ounces

Length: 20 3/4 inches

The end before the beginning

Child 2 arrives tomorrow -- and with it a real name to replace Child 2 -- so today was the last day of our family of three. Turned out to be a great, relaxing day.

We decided to take Elise to Como Zoo in St. Paul in the morning. 

She had a great time there. She was fascinated by the monkeys, mildly interested in the grizzly bears (I'll admit: I'm a fan of the grizzlies), excited by the sight of giraffes, bored by the bison (who wouldn't be?) and told at least once: "No, you cannot stand on the ledge of the lion exhibit."

 The only zoo that lets you ride the animals.

 Clearly she and I both knew how goofy I looked. She just enjoyed it more.

She dug the monkeys.

 This was taken on our family safari earlier this summer.

When Elise gets nervous, she puts her hand on or near her face. Who knows why she's nervous here.

 Belly

The trip was going great until we inflicted perhaps life-long trauma on the poor kid.

We took her to the carousel.

This isn't any ol' rinky-dink carousel. This is vintage, a relic pulled from the Minnesota State Fair about 20 years ago -- after it had been on the fairgrounds for 50 years or more. It's pretty neat. We decided that I would take Elise and Anni would watch, camera at the ready.

It looks so fun...

However, any visions of Elise being the the jubilant, free-spirited kid savoring every bit of the ride disappeared as soon as the carnival-like music ramped up, the carousel started turning and Elise's horse (we'll call it "Glue") started moving up and down.

She did well for about the first full rotation. That was enough for her. She got spooked and did not want anything to do with Glue. So, I took her off the horse and held her for the rest of the ride. A carousel ride never seems long enough -- until you've got a toddler who, though not screaming, definitely wants off the darned thing.

Elise was, as they say, tuckered out after that ordeal, so we bid adieu to Glue and headed for home.

Back at the ranch, we tidied up and took care of a few last-minute errands, all the while talking to Elise about the baby she would soon see.

We dropped her off at Grammy and Grandpa's for the night, and she said her final goodbye to the belly before she says hello to the baby tomorrow.

The day concluded with a relaxing dinner for two at our favorite restaurant, The Strip Club in St. Paul.

And now, time for the last full night's sleep for a while...

Actually, though...

A fact: I'm dreadful at grammar. Never quite grasped it and I'm always guessing.
That's why, honestly, I was blown away by a few new words that entered Elise's vocabulary recently.
In the past several days she has used the following three words in separate sentences: actually, though and usually.
Big deal? Maybe not, unless you consider that the 2 1/2-year-old used them in grammatically correct sentences.
At least I think they were grammatically correct.

Perfect 10?

Want to know how nine months can go by so quickly? Me, too.
We are four days from the birth of Child 2, and I'm trying to figure out what happened to the past several months. Time flew by and now we're sailing toward odd sleeping habits, lots of diapers and the general sanity-testing craziness of raising two kids without cracking.
I'm sure that makes a few people chuckle, especially those battle-tested parents of multiple kids.
"Two's nothing," a co-worker told me today.
Unless you've only had one.
Regardless, the countdown began today with Anni's final doctor's appointment. The baby's heart rate was 153 and Anni's stomach measured 41 inches.
"Well, it's a big one," was what her doctor told her before predicting a 10-pound baby.
The details for Monday have been nailed down, but there are two things we don't know. One is the sex of the baby. That'll be a surprise.
The other unknown, at least for a short time yet, is how we'll pull this off, this being raising two.
We've got one more weekend to prepare. Or maybe there actually is nothing to do to prepare. Or maybe we've been preparing all along.