geekent’s stuff’n things

This will be my last post for this iteration of the blog.
I would like to say that it will be the last geekent blog entry ever, but that’s most likely a lie as I’ll no doubt return someday, but for now, I’m done.

“365 things…” I knew would be a challenge, and one I thought simpler than it actually was. The fact was that within the first two week I was already finding myself falling behind on the “daily” activity of blogging five times a day, and within two months I was playing catch-up more often than not. I love the concept and I wish I had the wherewithal to stick it through, but I’m tired of thinking about it, putting pressure on myself to update, and, honestly, I’m a little bored with it. I’ve been blogging almost non-stop for over seven years… seven bloody years!

What I initially started the blog for was to help keep me writing, to keep my fingers and mind fresh, but it eventually became the center of my writing. I’ve barely written any prose, scripts, fiction, dialogue or any of the sort in years because I’m too busy updating the nuances of my life and my consumption. I mean, I’m writing all this for myself, and really, I’m the only one applying pressure to do it, and that pressure is misguided. I should be applying pressure on myself to get some books written, work on those comic projects that have been festering for so long, focus on writing good reviews again… that sort of thing.

The blog was always for me, it’s never been about an audience, but the fact that I don’t really have an audience (my wife, my mom, Joan, Toast, GAK… I can count my regular readers on two hands, and I’m sure the irregular readers can be counted on my toes) makes the decision so much easier. Who am I letting down? Love you guys but I’m going to try to make something more worthwhile than a record of what I ate in a year.

Nobody blogs anymore. When I started there was a community of bloggers that made this insular activity a social one. People, life and technologies have changed, and that blogospheric community disappeared, if not exactly dissolved. It moved on to Facebook and Twitter and left me behind. There are two or three people I knew from back when that I can point to that are still actively blogging, and doing so because they’ve made something of it. They engage an audience, they make money from it, it’s not just a time consuming recreation but a part of their professional life. My professional life shouldn’t make room for blogging and my recreational life has just gotten busier.

Blogs are dead, unless you’re sponsored, unless you’re clever and funny, focussed and willing to network. I frankly don’t have the time. I’m too busy blogging to network, too busy trying to maintain my own ideas and ideals to try and wrangle people to come and share in them. Let’s be frank though, I’m just not unique enough. My opinions on popular culture, well, they are better formed than most, but I’m perhaps not as informed as those who do this professionally, leading to the question of who am I to say these things? My opinions on life, well, I’m not Jon Stewart or Jerry Seinfeld, I’m not Henry Rollins or Rick Mercer. I don’t find enough humour or outrage in what goes on in my life or the world around me to make observations of interest to few other than myself, and I can tell my family and friends these things in person… what do I need a blog for. What I have to say, it’s personal, sort of, but it’s not unique.

Thing is I’ve kind of stopped using the internet for anything other than blogging. I don’t really read things on-line all that often anymore, I don’t visit any website with any regularity, and I don’t have any other blogs which I read with regularity. Having to maintain this blog has taken away my enthusiasm for what the internet has available. I spend my days at work on a computer and when I come home, I don’t really want to be on the computer anymore if I don’t have to be and I formatted this blog so that I’d have to be.

So, as I’ve rambled on for over 600 words, I find I’ve lost my train of thought, which is another reason I’m calling it quits. I have distractions, lovely little distractions aged 2 weeks and 7 years, not to mention a beautiful wife and a fantastic house, all of which make blogging seem unimportant in comparison. If I’m going to take time away from these wonderful things in my immediate life, not to mention the many great friends I have in my extended life who I don’t spend nearly enough time with, then I might as well be doing something worthwhile and meaningful with that time.

Yes, there was a time when this blog was worthwhile, when it was meaningful to me, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t still have some meaning, but it doesn’t have the same purpose it once did for me and I’m only cheating myself to continue doing it out of some sense of misguided devotion.

“365 Things…” comes to a close with three up-to-date categories ending at 200 and two others shy of the mark by 47 and 38 posts, and I know I’d never catch up. In 200 days I’ve logged over 800 posts, which is kind of insane when you look at it, and I’m better for spending the next 165 days doing something, almost anything else.

I’ll still be on-line, over at Second Printing from time to time as I feel the need to ramble on about comics or comic-related things, and also at Thor’s Comic Column at Chud.com where I’ll still be reviewing comic books, and on Facebook, which I visit with more than monthly regularity now. Maybe I’ll even Twitter, but not likely, because the mere mention of “tweets” in the media sends me into wincing spasms. I’m also updating my Flickr account with pictures of my beautiful daughter and my family.

So, “365 Things…” is over. geekent is far from done, however, just done for now.

Want!

It’s a keyboard with a built-in computer that also has a wireless connection that hooks into the TV to use it as a monitor. Estimated price is around $500-600 US, so I’ll likely get one when it’s about half that.

Intel Atom 1.6 GHZ processor
16 GB drive
Windows XP operating system (no vista, yay)
1.5 hr battery life (boo)

The mobile and vibrating lounge chair Joany gave us for LL both play 8-bit versions of classical and kids music, and while LL kind of responds to them, she enjoys even more real classical music. Aden has kicking around some Baby Mozart and Baby Bach DVDs which she likes, but I’ve been putting on the Galaxy Classique Populare channel on the Rogers cable box and she just loves it. As well, I’ve been playing some Sousa marches for her which she seems to intently listen to.

She also likes it when I sing to her though, which just shows she doesn’t quite have a discerning musical ear just yet. I tend to sing in falsetto (ala Barry Gibb) or in hums or quiet doo-wop chants I make up as I go.

I’ve never understood what exactly makes for a “colicky baby”, except that they cry a lot. Well, apparently that’s all it is… an otherwise normally growing child between newborn and 3 months that just, well, cries a lot, mainly in the evening, and is only temporarily soothed. This more frequently occurs in bottle-fed babies, but breastfed babies can be colicky too.

LL isn’t a full-bore colicky baby, as stated previously, she cries when she’s gassy, hungry, poopy or exposed. But she often is only consolable through feeding (and I don’t really want to set any sort of food-as-comfort precident) or some strange movement (she likes the sensation of being walked up and down the stairs, which is hard to simulate otherwise without walking up and down the stairs, which can be tiring, and perhaps a little dangerous holding a baby).

LL was weighed at the doctorbs office on Friday, coming in at a husky 7lbs, 4oz. I really think I should start going metric with height and weight with the kid, since it is the Canadian way after all, and she’s yet another generation removed from the Imperial system… but I digress.

Newborns typically lose weight during their first week and then get back up to their birth weight at around two weeks old, usually gaining about two-thirds of an ounce each day.

LL was born 7lbs exact, left the hospital at 6lbs 9oz, was weighed at the doctor’s three days later at 6lbs 10oz, and a week later was 7lbs 4oz. She does well, this little girl.

I’ve quickly learned when and why my little girl cries, a lot of it having to do with body movement and facial expression. With LL there’s basically four cries:

1) gassy - her brow furrows, her arms flail a little and her breathing goes erratic before her eyes scrunch up and she lets out a quick burst of a cry, almost like a cough.

2) wet/messy diaper - tends to start with a lot of leg movement and squirming - less arm movement - persistently before crying

3) hungry - a lot of mouth movement, erratic arm flailing and hand gnawing, and a near inconsolable cry

4) I’m naked/exposed - it’s pretty easy to tell when she’s crying because of this, and it’s her most persistent and violent crying… often it’s just because a sock has come off or her feet are exposed.

Many times, 2, 3 and 4 come all around the same time… usually 2 then 4 then 3, then a short while later 1. Otherwise, the little lady doesn’t really have reason to complain.

As a new father, I’m experiencing the paranoia, nightmares and restless sleep that comes with the territory.

Last night, LL was sleeping in the bassinet at the foot of the bed (making my daughter sound like a small dog probably isn’t the best thing) and she wasn’t having the best of nights falling asleep. At one point I swore I picked her up out of the basket, and began rocking her back to sleep, only to rock myself back to sleep. I dreamt I put her down beside me on the bed, only to accidentally pull the blanket over her, which stirred me since that can fatally impede their breathing. I woke up in the dark in an utter panic fumbling around searching for my baby amidst the sheets, knocking pillows around and not finding her anywhere. I reached into the basket and she wasn’t there, and Aden was missing as well from beside me. “Honey?” I called out, my heart racing with ferocious intensity.
“Yeah?” I heard calling back from the other room.
“Do you have the baby?” I asked, unsure of whether the panic in my voice was noticeable?
“Of course,” she said, as if it was the most obvious answer to the question, which it was.
I honestly don’t know whether I had actually picked LL up and put her down again or if I never picked her up at all, or Aden took her from me… that uncertainty of what actually happened is probably the scariest part of all.

That cover of Nirvana’s Nevermind is no bullshit, babies actually can swim

This freaks me the hell out, but babies do have a natural swimming tendency which, if it’s not nurtured, they lose quickly with age (as they begin to rationalize and understand fear, hesitation, tentativeness, I’m sure). They have an automatic response to being in water, a distinct paddling and kicking motion, as well as holding their breath.

I noticed with LL, that when I hold her stomach down in the bathtub, head above water, that she starts to move in the water. Unfortunately with the latest bath, she splashed some water into her mouth as she was breathing in and began to choke (like how you do when you gulp down your drink in the wrong pipe). The immediate realization was that she wasn’t breathing properly and I quickly flipped her to her side in my arms and started patting her back as she started coughing, and eventually, crying. Those few seconds were absolutely scary, and I realize that an infant CPR course is in order.

Don’t buy cheap kites. If they cost less than $5 and have some sort of licensed character on them, beware. They’re cheap for a reason, they’re crappy quality, they don’t stay together, and they don’t fly. You might as well just throw your money in the garbage.

It’s about time I learned that quality, whether food, toys, electronics or virtually anything else, does not come cheap.

My first bathtime with LL was as disastrous as my first changing, perhaps even moreso. We don’t have a little bathing tub for the wee one yet, so I filled up the bathtub with a shallow pool of water. I didn’t make it warm enough so LL was upset with me for that (but the sound of running water plus the additional warmth did sooth her enough once it was deep enough to cover her flailing legs). When washing a newborn, you still have to support their neck, but it’s fun to see that they like to swim (or try swimming) when you put them in the water, as some of their flailing is actually somewhat graceful aquatic movement.

Getting the baby soap out of the bottle while also supporting her was difficult, but I decided to pour some on my forearm and take as needed (even our baby washcloths seem a little too harsh for her skin at the moment), washing her body and head, any exposed wet skin getting air on it making her cold and cry.

Finishing the job quickly I transitioned her into her hooded baby towel, bundling her up and holding her close while patting her dry. As I was taking her over to her change table, I noted an odor… I think you know where this is going. Towel in the dirty laundry, joined by Papa’s poopy shirt, and a freshly dirtied baby right back into the bath… She wasn’t very pleased with this turn of events.

Cleaned up for a second time, I transitioned her to the change table once more and dried her off, trying to dress her only to realize, after changing and unchanging a very unhappy baby four times over, that most of the newborn clothes that weren’t in the wash were pretty stretched out and far too loose for our little girl. We didn’t have any clothes that fit, and LL was so upset, that I began to take it personally. I bundled her up in a blanket and passed her off to mommy, and shuffled off with a hangdog expression, humming the sad Charlie Brown music…

because a newborn baby’s organs are still developing they tend to experience hiccups on a far more frequent occasion that toddlers or adults do. LL gets hiccups about five or six times a day, and they tend to last for about 5 - 10 minute spans (apparently it’s even normal for them to last up to half an hour or as short as two minutes). There’s no “cure” for hiccups and they tend to bother the parents more than the baby (at first, but as they start creating air bubbles in LL’s stomach, she starts getting upset).

Unlike when I hiccup, LL doesn’t tear up. That may be because they don’t start developing tears until two or three weeks old and they don’t start developing visible, dripping crying tears until 7-8 month (you’d notice irritated, red eyes if they weren’t producing any at all).

1. she likes to have a hand up by her face at almost all times. Usually her right one. During her last ultrasound she was seen with her hand up by her face, and I recall Aden say that she’d better move it before she comes out. She did, but it was right back up by her face when she came out.

2. she doesn’t like her feet exposed to the elements (well, except warm water). When she’s swaddled, if her foot comes out she gets quite upset.

3. The foot thing, along with gas and dirty diapers are what makes my little girl upset.

4. She was born 7 lbs exactly, and exactly 50 cm long.

5. She doesn’t really look like me or Aden yet, but she does kind of look like her half-brother (more when he was a baby than now).

6. she’s kind of ticklish.

7. despite having her hand by her face she doesn’t suck her thumb or fingers all that much, unless she’s really upset, and even then its only for a few minutes of comfort. She does ten to poke herself in the eyeball a lot though.

8. She kicks and flails a lot in her sleep. I now understand why Aden was so uncomfortable carrying her.

Out of necessity I learned how to change a baby’s diaper on LL’s first day home. It was a bit of a disaster though as she peed while I had her butt lifted up to take her dirty diaper out from under her, making a mess all over herself. Then as I scrabled to get some wipes and wipe her down, she pooped out some more meconium. As she was half naked and wet, she started crying, and she flails about while she cries, and her feet got loose, and soon her legs were all in the meconium she’s just shat out, and soon it was all over me. She was an unhappy, dirty baby and I was an equally unhappy, dirty papa. But I got her cleaned up, diaper changed, and a new jumper put on her. Subsequent changes find her very unhappy, but not nearly as catastrophic.

Babies first two or three days find a black, tar like substance in their diaper instead of, well, poop. This black substance is meconium, comprised of intestinal epithelial cells, lanugo, mucus, amniotic fluid, bile, and water. Unlike feces, meconium is sterile and doesn’t really smell, but, jesus it’s a bitch to clean.

Laurel was born with a lot of black hair all over her shoulders and arms and head… the mother in law commented on her black hair, “just like her daddy” she said, to which I said, “she’s also got hairy black shoulders, just like her papa”.

That hair though, is normal, and most babies are born with fine hairs all over their bodies (back, arms, head and ears). The hair is called “lanugo” and is usally shed within the first few weeks (but sometimes takes a few months to fully shed). A lot of the languo is shed while gestating and is often ingested by the baby as it drinks the amniotic fluid.

I may be a hairy baby maker, but I’m no Pat Mustard…

When we (and by “we” I mean Aden, with me dragging a suitcase, backpack and food cooler behind) were finally transferred into a birthing room, Aden’s contractions had pretty severely intensified and were about 2 minutes apart. After settling in (as settled as we could get), our nurse hooked Aden up to more monitors and coaching her through breathing. She summoned the anesthetist who arrived about 10 minutes later to deliver the epidural. This process was, quite possibly the most agonizing and laborious process of the entire delivery, as Aden had to sit cross legged on the bed, leaning forward and thrusting her butt out as far as it could go, while also holding her head down, chin to chest. The doctor proceeded to stick a needle in her back and tried to put the epidural catheter in through the hole he made, only he botched it up, having to do it over again… likely no doubt due to the all too frequent and lengthy contractions Aden was having that would stiffen her body up. The whole process took about 25 minutes of Aden trying to hold her very uncomfortable position.

Later he would explain that there’s a space for the epidural and a further space for a spinal, the latter which they would use if performing a cerebralspinal for cesarian. In trying to put the epidural in the first, he accidentally punctured through to the cerebralspinal. He explained that in 48 - 72 hours she may have a really severe headache, as cerebralspinal fluid may have leaked into the epidural. His hope was that the headache wouldn’t happen altogether or it would be easily treated with Tylenol and pass. If it didn’t pass, then they’d have to perform a blood patch, whereby they’d take a sample of blood from her arm and put it in her via another epidural, the blood clotting the hole. Normally, when they do a spinal they use a smaller needle, so it clots more easily, and since he punctured it with the larger epidural needle he was concerned, and has since called a couple times to check in on her, which is nice of him. But she’s been doing fine.

After they administered the epidural, they did an ice test, to check her belly and legs for sensitivity. She could still move her legs, but she could feel anything below the waist, which meant it worked. Aden was relieved. For a bit the epidural wasn’t strong enough on one side, and she was feeling the contractions again, so they adjusted her position and had the anesthetist come in and permit a higher dose on the auto regulator she was hooked up to. After this she fell asleep for an hour, but not before the doctor (and the shadow doctor… it’s a training hospital) came in and broke her water to help the contractions along. I found it interesting watching the monitor and seeing the contractions intensify and Aden resting peacefully in spite of.

By the time the shadow doctor returned to check Aden out, she was fully dilated, and ready to deliver.

Around 5:30 Monday morning we gave triage at the hospital a call. I hesitantly asked if we should come in, given the span of Aden’s contractions, but in spite of the fact her water hasn’t broken. They asked a slew of questions…
- when did the contractions start
- how long are they lasting
- how frequent are they
- does she have any “show” (mucous and blood coming out because of dilation
- does she feel any rectal pressure or the urge to push
- is she able to talk through them or can she only breathe

It was after this last questions (stating that she’s pretty much just breathing) that they took her name and her doctor’s name, and they said “Well, she should probably make her way in, no need to rush, but soon…”

Once we got to the hospital, after a white knuckle cab ride and a quick check-in at the hospital, we made it to maternity triage around 6am where we quickly sat down in a chair and rapidly waited for 40 minutes for someone to acknowledge us. Aden, already quite tired after no sleep and over 8 hours of frequent and debilitating contractions started to feel nauseous (something else they don’t show you in the films, though not all women throw up.

When they finally admitted us into a triage room, Aden changed into a hospital gown, they hooked Aden’s belly up to a couple monitors (one for contractions, one for the baby’s heartbeat) and they checked her cervix for dilation (about 4 inches at that point). They told us they were going to quickly move us into a delivery room, but quickly in triage was about another 40 minutes.

I now know what real contractions are compared to the early, fluffy bunny ones.

When I woke up Sunday morning, around 9am, to find Aden standing at the foot of the bed rubbing her belly. “What’s up,” I asked, groggily.
She sighed and smiled a tired smile, “I think today might be the day. I’ve been having contractions.”
“Oh, good,” I said, perking up. “How far apart are they?”
“Oh, about every ten minutes or so.”
“So nothing to worry about yet?”
“Well, last time it was when my water broke that I went to the hospital.”

We sat around much during the day. Aden trying not to do anything too challenging. Once JJ left with his dad for the next few days, we flipped on the Wimbledon finals which was like doubling up on the excitement and anticipation. Her contractions started hitting about seven minutes apart then, but actually subsided back to ten once it was done.

About 10-ish that evening, she started breathing heavy, and wincing, and this was much, much different than in the morning. We watched a movie, then a bit of TV as Aden grimaced every six or seven minutes, at least half a minute each time. It hit midnight and I suggested we try to get some sleep. I conked out almost immediately but I don’t think Aden got a minute of shut eye. I know she kept heading for the bathroom at regular intervals. About three and a half hours later, Aden’s breathing had become heavy and her contractions elicited painful groans. Blurry eyed, I got up and asked her how far apart they were, she didn’t know. I grabbed my cel phone, switched on the “stopwatch” mode and timed the contractions, eyes closed, half dozing, listening to her breathing, feeling her movements shake the bed, hitting the lap button whenever a contraction started and when they stopped (approximately). By 4:30 they were inconsistently around 5 - 7 minutes long, and 40seconds to a minute in length. Unlike in the movies, there was no frantic racing around, there was very little panic, and a hell of a lot more pain than they ever portray.

By 5:15 there had been little change and Aden’s water still hadn’t broke. I asked her if she wanted to go to the hospital (she was worried about going too soon, and getting sent home, as they do if your contractions are feeble and your water hasn’t broken… like if we decided to go at any point during the day on Sunday).

Here’s what I didn’t know, until the missus just told me she dropped hers today (sometimes, but not always a sign that the baby is coming)…
The mucous plug is a collection of cervical mucus that seals the opening of the cervix. It keeps bacteria and infection from entering into the cervix, providing a protective barrier for the developing baby. When the cervix dilates, the plug comes out, and typically contractions will follow.
Ah, the beautiful miracle of pregnancy…