Mr. Cheeks!

The two things that people say to me include 1)You look like a boy. (I am glad they don't think I look the opposite) and 2) my, you have such big cheeks! My cheeks have been nicknamed ice-cream scoops and I have been called lovingly Mr. Cheeks. People can't help but touch them and squeeze them which I don't mind too much. My Mom tells everyone that I am just a good eater.

Happy Easter!

While we were getting ready for Easter, Luke, celebrating his first holiday enjoyed posing for the camera in his Easter sweater. He seemed to be saying... "don't tell me about the bunny, feed me a chocolate one" and... "why does Dad get all the candy?"

After, we went to Grandma and Papa's house where the Easter bunny paid Luke a visit with a book, bottle and the best gift of all, a Honey Bunny. We tried to get him to look at the camera but he just seemed too interested in the bunny.

Finally after a great meal and excellent company, we were able to get a picture of the new Belitz family, all 6 of us!

Of Wailing and Waiting

We have learned in the second month of Luke's life that he lulled us into a false sense of security in month one, posing as a relatively quiet baby that only needed to be fed to be kept reasonably happy. Now, Luke has decided that the regular setting of the sun is a life-shattering, cataclysmic event worthy of intense and prolonged panic. While not utterly inconsolable between 7 and 10 PM, Luke does prefer to quiet down for 5 minute stretches to catch his breath before bursting into a full-strength wail that fully exercises the limits of his tiny diaphragm. We're happy that Luke is building lung capacity, but I'm somewhat concerned that these outbursts tend to coincide with my arrival home from work and when I take over baby-handling duties (for at least a little while). Less than 6 weeks into fatherhood, and I'm already concerned that we're raising a Momma's boy. Of course, it could be that Luke just prefers being clutched to his mother's...um...bosom over his father's rock-hard chest and six-pack abs. Only time will tell.

The picture that goes with this post was taken before the sun set...hence the non-wailing nature of the subject. After computing the expected cost of college 18 years from now, I've concluded that our best bet for affording tuition is on a baseball scholarship, so we're dressing him appropriately. If Luke turns out to be a lefty, we could also hope to pay for our retirement via the arm of a millionaire major-league pitcher! Hope springs eternal, and it's not too early to dream. Here's to waiting and hoping...

The life of Luke!

Life was busy this weekend! I enjoyed a bath and warmed up in my blue alligator bathrobe. I also have been practicing looking to my left side in a mirror since I tend to favor my right side. I also enjoyed a visit from Mom and Dad's friends Ginger and Gary who were visiting from New York. It was great to meet them and Mom and Dad loved catching up! Thanks Ginger and Gary for a wonderful visit.

Do I look more like Mom or Dad?

Well, eventhough I am a month old, no one seems to really be sure if I look more like my Mom or my Dad. So, I thought that I would put a picture of me as well as a picture of my Mom and Dad when they were about my age. My Dad's picture was taken at the hospital when he was born. My Mom's picture was taken at her new home when she was about 2 days old and is being held by her Aunt Paula. In this picture, I am also 1 week old. If you have an opinion, write it in the comments box for this blog entry. Both my Mom and my Dad think I look more like them of course!

I'm 3 weeks old!

Now that I have been in this world a little longer now I have settled into a routine or so my parents think! Sometimes I like to make things interesting but usually I eat about every 3 hours and like to be awake from 9 to midnight. Sometimes I decide that it is great to be looking around and in need of some attention at 3 in the morning which is called Daddy time! He sings to me and reads me Zane Grey novels. It is so much fun! Mom appears to feed me just after Dad has put me to sleep so life is great. I sure do love all the attention but will miss my middle of tne night Daddy time next week when he starts his new job.

The story of my birth as told by my Dad

My birth story did not officially begin until the wee hours of February 10th, 2008. However, it's important to understand what my parents were doing the night of February 9th

That evening, Mom and Dad set off for a resteraunt called Mizuna in Denver. Friends of theirs were having a party and Mom and Dad were looking forward to a fun evening with good friends and good food. As it turned out, the friends and food were accompanied by a special assortment of wines specifically matched to each of the five courses. While Mom deferred out of respect to me, Dad, figuring that any potential labor was at minimum 20-30 hours away, availed himself to the selections of the chef and sommelier. A good time was being had by all until around 10 PM, when Dad looked across the dinner table at his very pregnant, and yet still stunningly beautiful wife, and noticed that she seemed somehow changed, as if a different light had sparked within her. Attributing it to the revels of the evening, Dad thought little of it...

...until 11:45. Having returned home by that time, Dad heard Mom exclaiming upstairs that she had "shown" her first signs of labor. Thanks to long hours of study, Dad was intimately familiar with the nuances of labor, and so he knew that my delivery was still potentially days away. Being a good husband, however, he dutifully walked upstairs to comfort Mom and help her relax. Over the next 60 minutes, Dad proceeded to watch Mom go through all the signs of labor (nausea, etc.), which normally occur over a period of hours, if not days. Sensing it was time to act, Dad settled in to time contractions.

Unfortunately, with the onset of labor, Mom assumed Dad had become not only a mind-reader, but a body-reader, and could actually feel the contractions along with her. While Dad has powers far beyond those of most mortal men, he was pretty much in the dark as Mom lay on the couch for the next several hours. As early labor set in, Mom would yell out seemingly random numbers to Dad like "Twelve!" and "Twenty-two!" while gripping his arms with the force of 10 human-growth-hormone-enhanced men. Dad would later find out that Mom was trying to tell him the time that the contractions began, but since she didn't communicate this to him until the day after I was born, the benefit was wholly lost. Once Dad was able to time contractions, he realized that I was coming much sooner than anticipated, and called the doctor-- if he wasn't sleeping after a birthday party, the person with the medical degree wasn't getting a full night's sleep, either.

Just after 4 AM, Mom and Dad arrived at the hospital. Mom was already 5 centimeters dilated by the time we made it to the labor and delivery ward and having contractions every 3 minutes! While knew I wanted to meet the world sooner rather than later, this resulted in Mom and Dad getting a lecture from the medical staff saying that next time, they really wanted us at the hospital as soon as possible after contractions began!

At about 9 AM Sunday the 10th, after several more hours of labor and several less hours of sleep for my dear parents, the doctor decided it was time for Mom to start pushing me into the world. While the first few efforts went well, my heart rate dropped a little and the doctors decided the sooner I arrived, the better. Since I wasn't quite far enough along...out came the salad spoons! Dad has seen these in medical journals and in the childbirth preparation class, but he'll spend a long time yet getting over the sight of the doctor using the saland spoons to help me into the world. Thankfully, out I came accompanied by a great deal of fluid (also forever burned into Dad's memory) to the cheers and adulations of all present (Mom, Dad, Dr. Moore, a medical intern, three nurses, and one hospital observer)!

And, as they say, a good time was had by all.