Today we ran through a large park where birds of many feathers sing out and show their colors. We ran off some crows from the path, they danced up into trees looming around, or up onto chain link fencing bordering a baseball diamond. Around the bend I saw a group of at least forty red-wing blackbirds. Jumping about the small prim poplars were numerous lone robins and bluebirds. Earlier this year goldfinches were populous in these same trees, they would sit in groups of a dozen in the peak of a tree and send a lone bird to spy upon our little group of the young one and the baby. Sitting in a picnic bench soaking up strawberries, persimmon, apples, or PB&J.
This day we were already fed. The young one snacked upon fruit and PB&J while papí stretched--trying to iron out a particularly tight muscle or two. Could be the coffee. Doctors won't own up to all the possibilities, but caffeine is a competetive inhibitor with calcium at nerve endings (Physiology 101) where calcium serves to 'reset' the nerve. Thus it stands to reason that when one is involved in activities where muscles need to 'reset' there could be adverse effects given the right/wrong dosage caffeine.
Cotton ball clouds alternated slowly with soft wisps in a blue sea above. The light was amber all morning. This has something to do with the region. We continued and ran around the park a couple of times, then papí put on his cleats and we brought out the balls and frisbee. The baby was sound asleep for the entire time as the young one and I kicked the balls and ran around. It is papí's pleasure to kick his soccer ball as far as he can. The young one lately is given to chasing after papí's ball, though he has several balls of his own. The frisbee is also lots of fun.
We are not yet to the pass-and-catch phase of all this. The relatively disorganized game allows the young one to stretch out his legs and papí to kick the ball as far as he can. During the soccer season some of the fields are drawn up with lines, and papí likes to kick corner kicks and from midfield towards the goal. Another great adult exercise is dribbling the ball the length of the field and back.
The young one draws papí close to explain where he is hiding balls and he also yells at me when I come upon his ball and kick it to another quadrant of the playing field. Sometimes our play is cooperative, sometimes I am challenging him to beat me to the ball/frisbee. In fact, that was the first name for our little sport: ball-frisbee. This arose from the summer when we would walk up with a little bag holding diaper bag, a ball, a frisbee, and drinks. Now I push a duallie stroller/jogger and I carry as many balls as I want in a duffel bag. Even if we don't end up using these, It is not a difficult addition to our equipment.
The baby awoke just as we tidied up, the young one seated on the stroller, his boots off. The baby began to stir from the folds of his swaddling blanket. He made a pucker-face, eyes closed, and began to coo. I have a thermos with hot water to heat Mrs. papí's express-milk. I have taken to keeping the bottle inside one of my half-liter travel mugs along with two ounces of hot water. The temperature maintains pretty well in there, and I can come back to the stroller and not have to fiddle around when baby goes from zero to needy in no time flat.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Where was I?
NOTE: I tried to reclaim the thread of this 'blog from past writings, and I found that I mostly reclaimed the wavering line of a narrative that arose from having enjoyed much prior web-surfing. For example, I tend to drift around through the news before settling down to 'blog, but I believe this sets an over-expansive tone into my writing. My thoughts are like spindles of over-arching ideas and global concerns and this guts the essence of the 'blog with regards to my times with my kids.
On with the show:
Kids'-time is a great time for bringing one's thoughts into the ever-present. Of course, the challenge of any conscientious parent remains to balance this essential present with the guidance and preparation that allows for things like timely food (especially when you consider a breast-fed baby in the care of papí) and rest.
Then there are meta-themes that express the parents' values for the children. Many of these are sheer accident, and I will admit that having tried the odd lecture it is obviously not a true means to imparting values to toddlers. There are good examples of the 'osmosis' transfer of values in my own young one.
When Mrs. papí's sisters arrive they often stay for the day. They are well appreciated and papí likes to be cordial and considerate. When I am going to the kitchen for any reason--while the Yi-Yis are playing with the young one and/or holding the baby, for I often spend my time in singular pursuits while they visit (e.g., housework, articles, &etc that I could not get to when caring for the kids as per usual)--I will divert and ask after their wishes or needs. If they want some tea or something (usually nothing, but I still ask) I will fetch it.
The other day, I was busy in the kitchen at just such a time when the Yi-Yis sat in the living room. A snack was delivered to the young one as he stood among his Yi-Yis there, and instead of digging in directly, he went around the room to check whether they first wanted to have some of the snack. No words were uttered to this effect. The boy picked up on the treatment of the guests and used his own values to do the rest (he harbors much affection for the pair).
Certainly this kind of 'osmosis' transfer also puts a mirror to habits we feel better off without. But the boy is too small to catch and tame the odd swears he has heard, and he is moreover a creative soul who makes his own sense out of his communication as it is. His is a non-linear train of thinking. I like to think it is a sign of intelligence that he creates various pathways to solve logical systems of thinking and of speaking. Whether it is of benefit or of challenge, the boy deserves the chance to alight his own cognizance and to build his own bridges.
The baby is looking after his dad more and more. When I run in and out of a room the baby is more actively scanning my movements and he often shares a smile upon a common glance. Our eyes cross and the smile spreads.
I have taken to checking his diaper when he makes the smallest whimper as I am unsure about this situation with the baby. He used to have a distinct cry associated with diaper (kind of a growl in the sob), but that is no more. What's more, he fills his diapers suddenly and dramatically spills over even the larger size we place upon him. This makes it tougher to take him out for our customary runs, but if I keep checking it seems to keep the issue at bay.
Of course, the baby does not eat from a bottle like he does directly from his mother. This means that as long as he is away from Mrs. papí, he will eat in spurts and usually when he really needs the bottle. That makes mealtime more desperate and puts pressure to have the bottle mostly ready when the baby needs to suckle. I must always guess his desires somewhat as I am not carrying around a couple of wonderfully supple and inviting mother's-milk-warmers!
On with the show:
Kids'-time is a great time for bringing one's thoughts into the ever-present. Of course, the challenge of any conscientious parent remains to balance this essential present with the guidance and preparation that allows for things like timely food (especially when you consider a breast-fed baby in the care of papí) and rest.
Then there are meta-themes that express the parents' values for the children. Many of these are sheer accident, and I will admit that having tried the odd lecture it is obviously not a true means to imparting values to toddlers. There are good examples of the 'osmosis' transfer of values in my own young one.
When Mrs. papí's sisters arrive they often stay for the day. They are well appreciated and papí likes to be cordial and considerate. When I am going to the kitchen for any reason--while the Yi-Yis are playing with the young one and/or holding the baby, for I often spend my time in singular pursuits while they visit (e.g., housework, articles, &etc that I could not get to when caring for the kids as per usual)--I will divert and ask after their wishes or needs. If they want some tea or something (usually nothing, but I still ask) I will fetch it.
The other day, I was busy in the kitchen at just such a time when the Yi-Yis sat in the living room. A snack was delivered to the young one as he stood among his Yi-Yis there, and instead of digging in directly, he went around the room to check whether they first wanted to have some of the snack. No words were uttered to this effect. The boy picked up on the treatment of the guests and used his own values to do the rest (he harbors much affection for the pair).
Certainly this kind of 'osmosis' transfer also puts a mirror to habits we feel better off without. But the boy is too small to catch and tame the odd swears he has heard, and he is moreover a creative soul who makes his own sense out of his communication as it is. His is a non-linear train of thinking. I like to think it is a sign of intelligence that he creates various pathways to solve logical systems of thinking and of speaking. Whether it is of benefit or of challenge, the boy deserves the chance to alight his own cognizance and to build his own bridges.
The baby is looking after his dad more and more. When I run in and out of a room the baby is more actively scanning my movements and he often shares a smile upon a common glance. Our eyes cross and the smile spreads.
I have taken to checking his diaper when he makes the smallest whimper as I am unsure about this situation with the baby. He used to have a distinct cry associated with diaper (kind of a growl in the sob), but that is no more. What's more, he fills his diapers suddenly and dramatically spills over even the larger size we place upon him. This makes it tougher to take him out for our customary runs, but if I keep checking it seems to keep the issue at bay.
Of course, the baby does not eat from a bottle like he does directly from his mother. This means that as long as he is away from Mrs. papí, he will eat in spurts and usually when he really needs the bottle. That makes mealtime more desperate and puts pressure to have the bottle mostly ready when the baby needs to suckle. I must always guess his desires somewhat as I am not carrying around a couple of wonderfully supple and inviting mother's-milk-warmers!
Monday, December 21, 2009
When food attacks!
From the March of his birth until the month of August 2007 my son enjoyed almost exclusive breastmilk feedings, but there were times when he needed formula to supplement. For example, he went from 6 lb 2 oz at birth to 5 lb 4 oz in the space of a couple of weeks.
We conscientious if newbie parents, we were stricken. I demanded that we get some formula and make him eat. He was a little slow to latch onto Mrs. Papí, and the transition from colostrum exacerbates any early natural feeding issues (what with dehydration, weight loss, ...& etc.). Mrs. Papí was still in the learning stages of her own breastfeeding process; we were beset by doubts. I felt it important to be somewhat forceful in the moment.
I got the enfamil, I don't know why that brand was interesting, but it is important to the tale of August 2007 that you know I had a cow's milk-based formula. August represented the last of six or so shots for my boy's vaccines. The child was beginning to reach up to his forehead with his (right) hand in a claw (much the way adults do in times of stress), scratching his temple when aggravated or somehow aggrieved. He would do this if his diaper were somewhat soiled, or if he was starting to pass the coo phase of his feeding requests. There was nothing to it at first, only the strange--too mature seeming--reaction to stress.
Later in the month of August, he began to abrade his forhead and chronically scratch portions of his face and arms. Sores began to show (a knotty looking skin break on his upper arm above the bicep, cracks in the soft inner elbows, a pink and wet sore on his temple and atop his head), and at first we followed it up as though he was scratching himself to ouchies. His hands were and are rather strong for his age and we were not getting guidance in the matter.
At one time that fall, my young one had bandages all over his face and arms and Papí could see that his handiwork was doing no good. I intended that the bandages would at least protect the young one from his menacing scratching, but the bandages were creating new and hideous spreading for these now oozing sores.
Finally, we obtained a recommendation for an allergist. Really still I do not know why this is not the first call in the instance. We had already visited the hospital after feeding the boy some pancakes (he had shown symptoms of not being able to breathe after eating a piece the size of a dime). Dr Lenoir is a very capable allergist who set us straight on numerous points regarding the causes and effects of the issues afflicting our dear young one.
We tested blood and from this we saw risk factors for certain foods. This is not the pin-test, but its prediction for eggs was 30+ out of 100 (100 being as deadly serious as imaginable) as we already knew. We also found that he had a milk allergy.
He is prone to develop sores and other abrasions and skin cracks when he ingests something containing milk or its solids. These eruptions can take days to clear up after the offending food is eliminated.
Once we took Dr Lenoir's advice and cut out the milk, the little one's skin health began to return. Cetaphil also helps with protecting his skin from daily chafing.
Bearing in mind that the boy already ingested a good deal of milk proteins and other solids from his experience with formula, and reflecting upon no such sores and cracks in those past months' time, I still feel that this allergic eruption coincides closely with the vaccines. The internet, of course carries extremely contradictory information on this issue. The timing makes me jump to this conclusion. The symptoms of the milk sensitivity manifested close after his final shots.
We were so relieved to move past this struggle. We could put aside the steroids prescribed for the skin, we put aside the mupiricin prescribed for the infected oozing, and we put aside all the bandaging and other foolish attempts. The young one soon moved onto crawling.
We conscientious if newbie parents, we were stricken. I demanded that we get some formula and make him eat. He was a little slow to latch onto Mrs. Papí, and the transition from colostrum exacerbates any early natural feeding issues (what with dehydration, weight loss, ...& etc.). Mrs. Papí was still in the learning stages of her own breastfeeding process; we were beset by doubts. I felt it important to be somewhat forceful in the moment.
I got the enfamil, I don't know why that brand was interesting, but it is important to the tale of August 2007 that you know I had a cow's milk-based formula. August represented the last of six or so shots for my boy's vaccines. The child was beginning to reach up to his forehead with his (right) hand in a claw (much the way adults do in times of stress), scratching his temple when aggravated or somehow aggrieved. He would do this if his diaper were somewhat soiled, or if he was starting to pass the coo phase of his feeding requests. There was nothing to it at first, only the strange--too mature seeming--reaction to stress.
Later in the month of August, he began to abrade his forhead and chronically scratch portions of his face and arms. Sores began to show (a knotty looking skin break on his upper arm above the bicep, cracks in the soft inner elbows, a pink and wet sore on his temple and atop his head), and at first we followed it up as though he was scratching himself to ouchies. His hands were and are rather strong for his age and we were not getting guidance in the matter.
At one time that fall, my young one had bandages all over his face and arms and Papí could see that his handiwork was doing no good. I intended that the bandages would at least protect the young one from his menacing scratching, but the bandages were creating new and hideous spreading for these now oozing sores.
Finally, we obtained a recommendation for an allergist. Really still I do not know why this is not the first call in the instance. We had already visited the hospital after feeding the boy some pancakes (he had shown symptoms of not being able to breathe after eating a piece the size of a dime). Dr Lenoir is a very capable allergist who set us straight on numerous points regarding the causes and effects of the issues afflicting our dear young one.
We tested blood and from this we saw risk factors for certain foods. This is not the pin-test, but its prediction for eggs was 30+ out of 100 (100 being as deadly serious as imaginable) as we already knew. We also found that he had a milk allergy.
He is prone to develop sores and other abrasions and skin cracks when he ingests something containing milk or its solids. These eruptions can take days to clear up after the offending food is eliminated.
Once we took Dr Lenoir's advice and cut out the milk, the little one's skin health began to return. Cetaphil also helps with protecting his skin from daily chafing.
Bearing in mind that the boy already ingested a good deal of milk proteins and other solids from his experience with formula, and reflecting upon no such sores and cracks in those past months' time, I still feel that this allergic eruption coincides closely with the vaccines. The internet, of course carries extremely contradictory information on this issue. The timing makes me jump to this conclusion. The symptoms of the milk sensitivity manifested close after his final shots.
We were so relieved to move past this struggle. We could put aside the steroids prescribed for the skin, we put aside the mupiricin prescribed for the infected oozing, and we put aside all the bandaging and other foolish attempts. The young one soon moved onto crawling.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
What time hath wrought
I am back.
The years are too long to recapture. I recall much as in a flash of recognition merely that time passes and I am more full with memory.
Were time a train, so well loved by the young one (now an older of two young ones -- details to come), then we should say that papí rode the choo-choo through watching my child come down with food allergies that compromised his happiness (at the time too frustrating to blog about), the process of gaining a teaching credential and the ever-awakening child once cared for by papí, cared for by other important people until...once again, the stars and the heavens and even the job market for new teachers in the state of California created the conditions favorable for homepapí to resume his labor of love.
Of course, this tale has a new wrinkle: a new, youngest addition (just 3 months) to the family to go with an active, at times hysterical, intelligent, and even crafty 2-3 year-old.
I will resume in future posts by first describing some of the events after and during August 2007, and this will include further words about my son's experiences with food allergies. I will continue by speaking about some personal experiences being at a distance from my young son and some of the decisions made along the way while working with 'other people's children. I now speak with some expertise in the area of childhood development. This will, I hope, not so much burden my considerations of my sons or my descriptions of their ways in the blog, but more inform the process of grasping the individual child's emergence in age and in spirit.
Oh, and I intend to put my 2¢ in regarding health care reform (if you can still use that term without laughing/cringing), the wars (if you can still use that term without feeling heartbroken), and the economy (if you can still use that term without bubbling over with rage).
The years are too long to recapture. I recall much as in a flash of recognition merely that time passes and I am more full with memory.
Were time a train, so well loved by the young one (now an older of two young ones -- details to come), then we should say that papí rode the choo-choo through watching my child come down with food allergies that compromised his happiness (at the time too frustrating to blog about), the process of gaining a teaching credential and the ever-awakening child once cared for by papí, cared for by other important people until...once again, the stars and the heavens and even the job market for new teachers in the state of California created the conditions favorable for homepapí to resume his labor of love.
Of course, this tale has a new wrinkle: a new, youngest addition (just 3 months) to the family to go with an active, at times hysterical, intelligent, and even crafty 2-3 year-old.
I will resume in future posts by first describing some of the events after and during August 2007, and this will include further words about my son's experiences with food allergies. I will continue by speaking about some personal experiences being at a distance from my young son and some of the decisions made along the way while working with 'other people's children. I now speak with some expertise in the area of childhood development. This will, I hope, not so much burden my considerations of my sons or my descriptions of their ways in the blog, but more inform the process of grasping the individual child's emergence in age and in spirit.
Oh, and I intend to put my 2¢ in regarding health care reform (if you can still use that term without laughing/cringing), the wars (if you can still use that term without feeling heartbroken), and the economy (if you can still use that term without bubbling over with rage).
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