In Ben's absence...

I know you all came here to read Ben's latest and greatest blog update. Alas, Ben is trapped at an all-day workshop for his job, where he has no access to either his computer or sane conversation. So, you will have to read my daily musings.
I was going to write about my experience on jury duty on Monday. The injustice of the trial system, the fact that all of the defendants were African-American and almost all of the jurors seemed to be white, you get the idea. But then I couldn't come up with something coherent enough to share. But, in lieu of an actual meaningful post, I leave you with this:


Flushable diapers! Amazing! I think this is an option we will have to explore. Environmentally friendly, somewhat economical, no extra laundry. I am drawn to this concept. Of course, I am drawn to any concept that involves little babies crawling around in cute diapers. I am weak. This is not a secret. But this seems to solve the disposable/cloth debate that we have had around here. Granted, it was not a very long debate, but still. I think we will have to purchase a few of these and give them a test run. We will be sure to let you know the results, if you can wait patiently until then.

I promise Ben will be back tomorrow at the latest to share his musings, which inevitably are more exciting than diapers.

(Updated with image)

RIP Sam the dog

Not very Baby-related, but a piece of me is glad we don't live in a world where I have to explain this to our daughter.

Sam, we hardly knew ya.

(I promise, this is not photoshoped in any way)

7 Up

To some of you I may have mentioned our fascination with the British documentary series 7 Up. I highly recommend it to anybody, but to expectant parents, it really is amazing. In short, a British film crew began this project with the thesis, by the age of 7, you are already who you will be for the rest of your life. They interviewed 14 children from different backgrounds, rich, poor, public school and private. Then, every seven years, the same team finds these kids and interviews them again. You get to watch the same person age in fast forward.


We watched “28 Up” last night so bear with me for this brief rant.

Part of the fun is just the physical nature of aging. The bad haircuts, the acne and facial hair, the fashion sense, etc. Something about seeing the same face age over time that Hollywood could never replicate honestly. It’s been amazing to see how people age, and what doesn’t change.

The series has been obviously set up with certain expectations, and the questions tend to pursue the main thesis. Kids from money have more opportunities than poor kids, and will “turn out better”. It’s one of the first things that all of them resist at one point or another. Nobody wants to represent a whole swath of the population, and you can’t draw too sharp of a generalization once you get to really know everybody. There are no Rich kids, there’s just John, Andrew, and Philip. Just as there are no poor kids, just Simon and Paul.

We just finished watching 28 Up, which has it’s own guilty pleasure, in that our subjects are now just about to reach our age. They’re having kids and getting married now. Some have found jobs, some became homeless. Others have followed the set path we knew they would, and others have rebelled against theirs.

The irony is, they can talk forever about what it’s been like growing up, but they’ll never have the perspective we get. Every one of them talks about ambitions, failures, regrets and fortune, but there’s something in the comparison that is more than the sum of all parts. It certainly helps that they are all painfully, sometimes embarrassingly honest. But watching 14 stories unfold it doesn’t really matter how much money they make, what jobs they get, or how many kids they have. It’s dangerously easy to focus on how human they become over time, and we’re not even half way thorough yet.

This December we get the latest update. The kids are now all 56. I suppose after that we’ll have to wait another 7 years for the next installment. But if you ever wanted to see what it would be like to watch your child grow, and get a freakishly real look at the future, put on a big pot of coffee and start watching this series. Good stuff.

Hand-me-downs

I realize now that we haven't yet thanked all the kind folks that have so kindly dumped their old baby clothes and accoutrement on us recently. There will no doubt be a million little things that we still need to get, and I understand that "It can really add up" according to one that knows.

Some of the items are a bit dated, but we appreciate all generous offers.

A Thanksgiving Carol

While Corrie and I weren’t visited by ghosts of parenthood past present and future, we were treated to something even better. On our trip to NY this weekend we found ourselves confronted with a brand newborn, a 5 month old, and a two-year old on consecutive days. This progression took us way beyond any one-dimensional reaction of fear, expectation, or wonder, and really opened up a world of conflicting emotions. Let me try to put this down as to what this weekend was like:

Our good friends R & M gave birth to Jake around Midnight on Wednesday the 23rd. We were able to visit the hospital that Friday night and we were allowed to hold their two-day-old baby. Now I’ve held babies before. There isn’t much too it, particularly when they’re too small to do anything. Support the head, rock a bit, don’t drop. But there was a brief moment there, when his parents were talking to the grandparents, a wrinkled little foot stuck out of his blanket, when I had a vision of them all getting up, saying goodbye and walking out. And I’d be left with this guy, sleeping now, but it’d be just the two of us. And he’d need to be fed. And burped, and inoculated, and bathed. He’d need clothes, braces, and school supplies. He’s need to deal with bullies, crushes, and sports injuries. And there WOULD BE NOBODY ELSE to give it to him.

He stopped being a cute little swaddled ball of burps and farts then, so I handed him back to his grandmother.

The next night we visited S & A with their five month old son Jack, who is just getting to the fun age where he can smile and react to people. His parents had reached a point where the systems were in place, had suffered endless nights of unstoppable wailing, and were just beaming with pride that they were able to play with him now. Seems like there’s a long stretch where you don’t get much of a return on your investment of sleepless nights, and peed-on ties. The fun during the first few months is mostly theoretical apparently. Oh, he cried a few times before we left, and they were prepared for the 2 am feeding, but at least he’ll chew on your finger and play with his feet now. I could see how every minor thing could command rapt attention.

(I promise not to bore everybody we know with endless tales of our daughter being able to stuff both feet in her mouth, but that doesn’t mean we don’t feel proud when it happens.)

On our way out of town we picked up P to give her a ride back to Boston. She had bummed a ride to our place from her sister and niece Matilda, who was “Two years and Eight Months.” She was answering childish questions, smiled and giggled at our dog, and shook our hands hello (ok, maybe just a finger). We hadn’t known her before that day, but she was still small enough to ride on her mother’s hip, but old enough to talk. She had drawn a Harry Potter lightning bolt on her forehead, was scared of Chris Kringle, and was generally up for playing.

I could go on I suppose, but in short, we had our child, raised her and were three years ahead of the game all in three days. To all the parents out there that advise us to “enjoy your free time while you can”, and for all of us that can’t wait another day for our child to come, let me just say, it was an illuminating weekend.

Grandpa blogging

the "kids" are here, all 2 and 1/2, or maybe now its 2 and 7/9's yahoo !!!!

Linda and I are taking classes at The New School in how to be successful grandparents. Lesson one
says we should spoil the "kids" and the new granddaughter terribly. Lesson two, also from grandmom Grier, and probably the most important is JUST LOVE 'EM. And we will.

(short note from grand dad)

A word on "Cletus"

Some time ago, before we learned the gender of our little snow pea (trying out pet names, seeing which one sticks) Corrie and I were uncomfortable referring to our baby as IT. However we didn’t want people to know what names we are considering (more on that topic soon). As a temporary placeholder we decided to refer to our child as Cletus the Fetus.

Nobody would steal that name from us, there was no chance of being offended if people thought the name unappealing (as it is intended), and it brought a smile to my face (my sense of humor being less appropriate than my better half).

Well, Cletus as a title was quickly and sharply abandoned as soon as we discovered that we were not the first to think of it. Sick world that it is, a pro-life group had already developed a comic book based on the life of Cletus the Fetus, who escaped from an abortion clinic and traveled the world trying to save Fetuses everywhere. (I am too offended by this to link to their site. If you want to find it, more power to you, but suffice to say they have a collection of Fetus toys and dolls from around the world. Collect the whole set if that is your cup of tea).

Either way, now that we know (or are at least fairly sure of the odds) that she is a girl, people have taken to calling her by whatever name they feel most comfortable using. If you see references to any of the following:

Pearl
Lauren
Eunice
Mabel
Walter-ina
…
Know that it refers to our daughter. Additional suggestions for less-than-serious names welcome in the comment section of this post. Have fun with it.

New Counter

Don't worry hon, we got it back.

Shocking

Sadly, it seems my role in this blog has been technical support. Not that Ben doesn't encourage my writing--in fact, he quite frequently suggests I write. However, I feel less witty/less able to find funny costumes than Ben, so I just futz with the background. Unfortunately, in my attempt to fix the gap between the top of the web page and the text that we had on the earlier version, I erased the counter at the bottom that let us know how many people visited this site. We were over 430 at last count! So, please come back and visit often, so we can count you again.
The lack of tech savvy is not what is shocking, though. Perhaps you will notice that it is 10:30 pm when I am writing this? And I'm not even in my pajamas yet? THAT is shocking.

One for the loyal fans

For those of you that have come to expect a chuckle from this site, we've been remiss in our responsibilities of late. Therefore, posted without comment, enjoy this one...


We'll try better to keep up with your needs.

A Sad Indulgence

Sorry for the lack of posting lately, but have been hit with a nasty cold. On the upswing, but probably passed it on to Corrie. Sorry honey. The indulgence part of this comes in the hedonistic joy of taking an entire day to sleep on the couch enjoying fever-inspired visions to a mid-morning PBS soundtrack. Oh but these days will soon be missed.

For more context, go see The Secret Lives of Dentists. Hilarious movie about a marriage going through hard times. Campbell Scott delivers a fantastic performance of a father that comes down with the flu when his two daughters and wife also get sick. How parents manage to run around cleaning up vomit while feeling that bad is beyond me, at least for now.
So it’s coming up on Corrie’s turn to wallow in a pile of Kleenex and reruns of the Tony Danza Show. Enjoy yourself honey, we’re not allowed to get sick anymore after this.

While we can

There is probably only a small window when new parents get to dress their children the way WE want to, before they get too willful. There’s a golden age when they can’t speak or even crawl away too fast, and haven’t learned about self-consciousness. Sure later they might resent this, but for all the expected late nights feeding, burping, rocking, and singing to them, I figured we deserve a certain degree of fun in return.

My only regret is that somebody apparently thought of this one first.

Tough Choices

I assume this is what parenting will turn out to be all about. Years from now all the decisions we make today will be subject to $200/hr analysis, so it is worth putting some effort into the matter now. There are the big issues, Christmas orChanukaha, or both? Cloth or disposable diapers? Let her cry it out or sleep in our bed for 2 years?

Not in our household, but I hear tale of serious knock down arguments over these things. Like the man says, you never get a second chance to make a first impression.

So today is devoted to picking out the right mobile. She will be looking at this stupid thing probably more often than at her own parents, so there will be some impact it will have on her. So far it seems there are a number of directions we can go with this:

Scientific:
Studies show children respond better at early ages to simple black and white shapes, rather than confusing swirls and rainbows. Could be boring though, and a mobile that she does not like to watch could just get annoying after awhile.

Gender Specific:
We know we are having a little girl, so why not work off what millions of parents have seemed to have already figured out. They like the pink. I know a number of new parents that fought tooth and nail against gender stereotypes, only to have their daughters request as soon as they can speak, for the pink room. She may grow up to resent us trying to pigeon hole her into societal expectations for women though.

Interactive:
We can teach her hand eye coordination early on. Each arm of this one makes a funny sound. She may learn to be responsible for amusing herself, and that there are consequences to her actions. On the other hand, it could be too fun. The point is to get her to fall asleep, not keep her awake all night.

Ambitious:
Who even knew Stanford made baby mobiles? Why not get her started in the right direction? Or are we setting her up for high expectations. I have seen the Breakfast Club too many times now to put pressure on our daughter to get straight As all the time.

Commercial:
Everybody likes Winnie the Pooh. But does it teach her that it is ok to go up to dangerous beasts and pet them?

I will be developing a decision matrix by which a clear choice will hopefully emerge. Just have to learn a touch more programming, and we should be all set.

Next stop, Binkies.

Modern Marvels

The field of parenting has seen some amazing advances over the years. So much help is available to us now that our parents never got to enjoy. Why, we have been able to replace the entire wisdom of a village of elders with a single shelf at Borders. To wit, some of my favorite inventions listed below:

The kid keeper. One quick yank and the emergency parachute will slow her down long enough for you to finish that article you were reading before she took off.

Mylicon: one out of 4 babies experience painful gas-even newborns. Be prepared. God forbid we would be unprepared. Heck, baby gas is going to be the greatest thing to happen to us since we learned to blame the dog. (I just love the picture on this site. Tell me that kid is not proud of himself)

and while we are on the topic of medication...

PediaCalm, for those nights when you just have to get some sleep. Featuring No alcohol, bicarbonate or sugar. How does it work? Who cares? Get your child started out right by medicating them early and often. Now in fun shapes and colors. Soon they will all be BEGGING for more.

And sometimes you just have to draw a line in the sand and DEMAND that you're child behaves. Who better to lead us boldly into that uncharted territory than Mary Lou Henner.


Lastly, if you're unsure of how your family pet is dealing with the trauma of a newborn in your home, allow them to express themselves through fashion. After all, they have an important role in raising your child too.

Cool Baby

We started planning for this baby the same way everybody does, by first saying, “We’re not going to be those kinds of parents”. We’re not going to feed our girl McDonalds. In fact, nothing but home grown organic roasted squash with some chives grown in a windowbox. And no TV or DVDs, we’re going to read to each other all the time. In fact, forget “Make way for ducklings”, we’re starting her off on Oliver Twist. And no Baby Gap clothes imprinting their brand on her young fertile mind. We’re just going to knit all her sweaters, hats, socks, etc. (or have grandparents do it for us). Gotta start them off early, and make sure no evil influences creep in.

(I don't think this Chicken is jewish)

Of course then I harken back to the kids that got picked on for being strange, and my fervor waivers. Now it seems it’s our responsibility to teach her, not just social skills, but appreciation for pop culture. She needs to know about the world she’s going to grow up in, and one day rule over. We can’t turn her into one of those east-coast-elietest-snobs that “..will NOT drink Merlot!” (i.e. into us). What favor would we do her to shelter her from all the world has to offer? How will she understand half the references in any Douglas Copeland or David Foster Wallace novel? Nope, our girl is going to be raised wicked cool.

(The new Nano, now with 50% more spit up)

At least that’s where the pendulum has swung today.

I did it!

I figured out how to add a photo gallery. Now I just need photos...

Thanks to everyone who has come to visit this site. We're having a lot of fun with it. Hopefully, as we get a bit down the road, there will be much more interesting things than our toilet paper flowers and photos of our station wagon. There will ALWAYS be dog pictures, however. And I will not apologize for them.

The practice child

Now there are some parents out there that may take offense when we compare their baby to our dog. I can understand that. The danger of false equivalency is everywhere, to wit, were I to claim:

“I understand the pain of childbirth because my brother, on occasion, kicked me in the nads”

..would do nothing but guarantee a lifetime of me being afraid my wife will remind me of the pain of childbirth. But I digress.

Dogs are not children. We’re not crazy, or at least not that flavor of crazy. Having said that, Walter has in fact been a good sparring partner getting us ready.

• He wakes up at all hours of the night. I think once in the last 2 years I’ve actually heard my alarm go off. Otherwise it’s a 56 pound dog standing on my chest, whining to go outside, or on his more creative days, stealing our glasses of the nightstand. He knows what works.
• He stuffs truly disgusting things in his mouth, which sometimes, I just have to go elbow deep in dog slobber to get out. Dead birds, rotted food, anything pungent really.
• He cries for no apparent reason. Doesn’t want to go outside. Doesn’t want his food. Won’t play with his ball. Just cries.
• When thunderstorms hit, he crawls into bed with us.
• His medical bills come at the worst times, leaving us waiting at the Vet instead of out having fun.
• At the dog park in NY we try to set him up with friends when he’s too shy to play.
• In private we acknowledge how much better he is than other dogs.
  
  Now if he would only get in the Baby Bjorn…

Life's little joys

So we broke down and hired a cleaning lady recently. It's a tiny place but we're going to need the help when the little lima bean shows up, so we bit the bullet early.

Talk about a guilty pleasure.

It isn't the smell of fresh squeezed lemons, or the lack of dog hair on every flat surface that gets me though. It's the toilet paper art that has won me over.


How have we lived this long without?

For the Dads out there

We've gotten our first 'stranger' hit today, which in itself was somewhat exciting. For the life of me, I'll never understand how somebody found this site without us Guilt-ing them into visiting. We'll keep the focus on family and friends, but let me just add something for our ever growing fan base.

A good friend loaned me a copy of yet another father-centric pregnancy book, and I'll admit, I had my doubts at first. I'd already seen the guide put out by Alan Thicke (yes, that Alan Thicke)

"every father at one point or another has wanted to punch their child in the face."

And other such pearls of wisdom. Other guides take the more remedial husband approach.

"while she's pregnant, why don't you do the laundry or cook Her dinner for once. It will show her you care."

Which begs the question, how have you been able to stay married this long without ever doing the laundry or cooking dinner?

In the cannon of fatherhood guides however, The Birth Partner stands out as just about the best resource for what we as otherwise secondary actors from this point on need.

Without pausing for the squeamish ones out there, it goes into startling detail on how to deliver a baby in the back of a cab, if you need to. How to tell false labor from "Get your butt to the hospital toot-sweet" labor. Things she might say during the hard part along with the tongue in cheek advice,

"Don't worry. They will most likely apologize later."

I'm about half way through at this point, and ready to give an undergraduate lecture on pharmaceuticals and bio-chemistry. So if you're looking for something actually helpful, this one stands heads and shoulders above the others.

(Thanks Andy for this one)

Happy Birthday

She'll hate me for doing this, but why shouldn't everybody know it's her birthday today? Heaping piles of nachos as far as the eye can see tonight.

(it isn't that cold up here yet, just a dated picture)

Dodging a bullet

Literally days before we learned that Corrie was pregnant we put down a huge bid on a fixer-upper single family house. With just some help, some luck in selling our place, some old fashion gumption, we could end up with a 3bdr/2bth home that we could grow into. Our 2bdrm condo started to feel too small for a growing family.

Sure it had its quirks, but what historic house doesn't? It was built around 1885 as an ice house for the nearby pond. Years later somebody with a short attention span built an addition on the back, but couldn't be bothered to dig a deep enough foundation. As a result, half the house was about 4 feet taller than the rest. Walking from room to room proved challenging for us non-short people, but it had oh so much potential. Knock this wall out, open this room up, move stairs over here, new half-bath there... We're young(ish), somewhat creative people. If effort was all it took, we could turn this place into something grand. (There she is, actually pregnant before we knew it)

Well we were outbid. The very next day Corrie took her pregnancy test (or four) and we forgot all about this place. Soon after the other buyer was scared off when her inspection revealed significant foundation issues. Not right away, but someday in the next 5-7 years the whole house would have to be jacked up about 3 feet. The seller was desperate it seemed, so the house was offered to us on a platter. With the asbestos shingles, the lead paint everywhere, and the effort it would take we were able to walk away from it all without too many regrets.

All that is background to waking up this morning to NPR telling us that the Boston Real Estate Market is tanking. Our neighborhood that typically has about 50-80 condo's on the market at any one time, now has over 300 available. Prices seem to be dropping, and we're heading into the slow season. I get cold sweats thinking these days about how close we came to having a crushing new mortgage, trying to stay warm until our new windows get installed, eating beans and rice three times a day, taking CVS brand lead poisoning tests each month, while staying up late trying to take down walls with a sledge hammer.

Yup. Feeling pretty lucky today.

Photos

nantucket2
Originally uploaded by cstonejohnson.

Trying to learn how to add photos. Seems I'm not so good with this newfangled technology stuff. If you click on the photo, it should link to a photo album. Alas, this album doesn't have much now, but we promise to be better. Enjoy!

Dreaming of wood panneling

Yup, we're now those people.

After much consternation and some soul searching, Corrie and I broke down and traded in our sporty 2000 Saturn for the wagon. I sure hope our daughter appreciates this.


Now if only I could stop huming "Holiday Road"

"Girlcott"

At one time, this story may have elicited a chuckle, but knowing that we're having a daughter has changed my perspective on a number of things.

You go girls!

[Update]

Looks like, with my support, the girlcott worked

Welcome

Welcome to all things Baby Stone-Johnson. Corrie and I have broken down and decided to try our hands at this blog thing. Having been avid readers of other peoples private lives for some time now, it seems only fair to allow every man woman and child on earth with a laptop and too much free time into our lives as well.

For the most part, this is simply designed for family and friends. Anybody that doesn't know us that happens to come across this site by accident will no doubt be stunned at how dull our lives are, but you're welcome to browse. We'll try to keep this site fresh with interesting tidbits, but for the most part, it'll be a repository of cute pictures, short video clips, and lessons learned by first time parents.

Lastly, before we're completely overwhelmed by all things baby (no, we're not telling anybody what names we're considering yet), let me just post the first, and probably only shot of our practice child. Wally, the next few years are going to be rough on you.