¶ Smiles everyone, smiles: Jonah turns nine weeks old.

Jonah is starting to do some social smiling. That means he might give you a grin when he sees you or when you make a funny face. Erin and I consider this a substantial step forward over his earlier behavior of smiling only when passing gas. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it's a nice parental milestone when you can bring your kid as much happiness as he gets from breaking wind. So I've got that going for me, which is nice.

Almost unbelievably, Jonah now sleeps through the night. He tends to go at least eight hours and on one night recently he did 11 hours (before Erin woke him). Occasionally he'll only do six hours, but then it's just feed him and stick him back to bed. He happily sleeps through until morning. We've been very lucky this regard. From what I read, most kids don't start sleeping through the night until they are three or four months old.

What else to say about the boy? He's an adorably cute kid. He and I have been hanging out during the days while Erin takes classes over at Western University (aka WOSC) in Monmouth, and he's been fantastic. Sure, there are poopy diapers and burp ups, but you just wait until I'm 90 and see if it isn't the same for me.

Jonah turns nine weeks old. Smiles everyone, smiles!

¶ A busy day on the homefront: "Random notes 'n' stuff" was already taken.

I sit staring down at a little creature in a kick-n-play and wonder how I could love so much something which wasn't a part of my daily existence even three months ago. He stretches and yawns, hiccups and burps. He yells loudly when unhappy, leaving Erin and I frequently to guess at the cause. He flashes occasional radiant smiles. He sucks his hands to comfort himself. He sleeps a lot. He probably loves us both to the extent he can, which all any parent can ask. It's been two months, but I'm still awed by the whole thing.

Last night was supposed to the closing of our house refinance but the title company rep was a no-show, so we're rescheduled for Friday evening. It's unclear what the deal is with First American Title Insurance Company, but I'm inclined to think that they're boneheads. I'll refrain from further complaint just as long as my loan goes through.

We had four Mormon missionaries out here this morning to help weed the side yard by the pathway down to the park. Elders Jackson, Ferrin, Green, and Tonks are nice guys. Like every LDS member I've ever met they're unfailingly polite and genuinely happy. I spoke with Elders Jackson and Ferrin a couple weeks ago (see All Visitors Welcome on June 7), at the conclusion of which they volunteered to help me with whatever service project I could dream up. Well, I can dream mightily.

When they dropped by a few days ago to ask if I had thought of anything, I laid before them the idea of weeding the path to the park and removing the blackberry bushes from the parkside of our backyard (as they continue to encroach on our property). The Elders asked if they could bring a couple of other missionaries as well. You betcha.

Today the four of them worked along the side path down to the park while I hauled out as much yard debris as possible (over huge four bins worth). Temperatures were in the low 90s so I also made a point of keeping them hydrated with water, lemonade, and whatever soda wouldn't offend their sensibilities (since Mormons, as a rule, don't drink caffeine). They did lots of hard work, but we didn't finish before the pizzas I ordered came, we ate lunch, and called it a good day's work.

Interestingly, since they didn't finish, they volunteered to come back next Tuesday and keep going. This I think is very cool, by which I mean both in their willingness to continue working and how the park pathway will look when we're done. Since we'll be laying a weedblock mesh and bark nuggets down, I expect that the path will look fantastic, and it will provide me with the opportunity to start building the side retaining wall if I so desire. That's an expensive proposition, so I'll have to think about it, but in the long run it's absolutely where I'm heading.

With much help from and thanks to the missionaries of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

¶ Random notes 'n' stuff: Because creating vague yet interesting-sounding headlines is what I do.

Erin started classes at Western University in Monmouth on Monday. We debated making these family day trips so she could feed Jonah on the spot but ultimately decided that it would be easier if he and I stayed at home and I bottle-fed him. Despite some major poodoos and massive milk burp ups, the arrangement seems to be working. I like that it allows Erin to be temporarily untethered from the kid since she's been virtually nothing but since he was born.

Jonah's sleeping through the nights with perhaps one wake-up call in the early morning. Since he's only at 8 weeks, we're very pleased by this. More thrillingly, he's even made it entirely through a couple nights without a peep, proving at least to me that there is such a thing as heaven on earth.

Jonah's bigger now, weighing in at just under 13 lbs. His burp ups and poodoos are correspondingly larger, which is obviously the downside. All his cuddling makes up for a lot of that, though. And he's just so durned cute, that one can't help but be forgiving of everything else. I've posted another Jonah photo gallery so you don't have to just take my word for it.

Dave was here yesterday and we updated his parents iMac with all the latest and greatest stuff. It wasn't a long visit, but it was, as always, a good one. Dave even got some Jonah hold time which, given that babies don't stay this size forever, is pretty nifty.

Late in the evening Bret stopped by, and we swapped video tapes. FIFA is running a Confederation Cup tourney in France, and since it's broadcast on Spanish language stations we receive but Bret doesn't, we're taping the games for him. In return, he's taping The Amazing Race 4 which is on at the same time as the games.

Outside the home front, I read in the paper that McDonald's is "asking" (read: telling) its meat suppliers to reduce their use of antibiotics in farm animals by the end of 2004. According to The New York Times, "McDonald's said it was making the change because of growing evidence that the use of antibiotics in farm animals was creating antibiotic resistance in animals and in the bacteria that cause diseases in humans."

Well, no kidding, Sherlock. Nice of you join rest of the scientific community, if only partially. Most of what's really going must have been left unsaid in the press release because McDonald's still didn't talk about:

Antibiotics pumped into animals have major health consequences for the human beings who eat them. It's not just that the bacteria develops a resistance. It's that the antibiotics themselves are bad for us.

The larger point is that the animals are still going to be treated terribly, forced to eat food which makes them sick (which is mainly why the antibiotics are used—to keep the cows alive long enough so that they can be fattened up and killed).

Mickey D's still doesn't have microbial testing in their meat facilities. Food born illness from fast food is a major problem, and the reduction in the use of antibiotics will likely make this worse not better.

This does nothing to eliminate one of the central problems of McDonald's burgers: There is (forgive me) shit in the meat. Until they insist that meat suppliers allow their animals the dignity to express their nature (in the case of cows, by roaming and eating grass), this problem will not go away.

I wouldn't eat a McDonald's burger if you paid me.

Speaking of drugs and human beings, a number of pharmaceudical companies (Abbott Labs, Bristol-Myers Squibb, and Wyeth I'm looking in your direction!) are promoting an "enhanced" infant formula chock full of fatty acids as a way to increase your infants IQ. Why breast-feed your newborn, parents are being asked, when we can sell you a product?

The Food and Drug Administration is noticeably iffy about the claims of these infant formula makers, and so should you be. The American Academy of Pediatrics declines to endorse the "super formulas" because of their "unknown adverse effects." Yes, we're busy writing another pathetic chapter in the story of American capitalism.

Howard Dean, MD for president. It's early yet, but I think he will win the Iowa caucuses and the New Hampshire primary. Whether he ultimately takes the nomination will be a test of the Democratic Party. If grassroots activism is what the party is about, he's in. If it's about money and entrenched power brokers, say hello to Sen. John Kerry.

¶ It's a pickle, part 2: Those boys of summer (aka Henney and Nicky) love their baseball.

The Starrs hosted a party this evening for Dennis, Marnie, Henney, and Nicky, and when have their parties been anything other than great? The Robins contingent was there of course (including Adam and Nena's infants Lucy and Noor), though without Emily who is off at a science "nerd" camp in West Virginia.

Henney and Nicky talked a number of us into a game of pickle, so Jessica, Dennis, Marnie, and me spent a good deal of the evening running and throwing with the boys. I wasn't dressed for sports, but what's a few sweat and grass stains on dress clothes when there's kid-like fun to be had?

Dennis, Marnie and family head soon for a couple years in Costa Rica. They'll be back in the States over the summer, and we're going to try to get out to see them in New Hampshire next year. For now, this has been a wonderful opportunity to see them all again. Tonight's meeting at the Starrs made, I thought, for a good sendoff.

¶ So much to do it's a pickle: Dennis, Marnie and the boys of summer come to town.

Dennis, Marnie and the boys are out from New Hampshire, making the drive up from California after their visit with the Lillys. Henney and Nicky were eager to plays some pickle (aka hotbox) down at the park. The game goes like this: There are two bases. Two fielders, one at each base, throw a baseball (or its softer equivalent since we're dealing with youngsters) back and forth. Runners attempt to go from one base to another without being tagged out. Three outs and a runner has to switch to be a fielder. Good fun and good exercise, especially for me and Dennis.

Today, we played Quest for the Magic Ring (a game based on The Lord of the Rings trilogy). After defeating Dark Lord Dennis, we went down to Riverfront park and played some more pickle (with Marnie and Erin joining in). Afterward we jetted home, cleaned up, ate a spot of dinner, and headed out to see the Salem-Keizer Volcanoes beat the Eugene Emeralds 8-4.

In the quieter moments of their time here, the boys are devouring books at an enviable pace. I wonder if they read more than I do, and I read a ton. It's very impressive. They just seem to soak up knowledge, and I'm positive that they both must be reading years in advance of their grade levels. Amazing stuff.

They'll be leaving tomorrow, but we're already looking forward to seeing them at a family get-together in Portland on Sunday. We so love that Dennis, Marnie, Henney, and Nicky have been able to visit. Jonah meets his cousins!

¶ Alrighty! It's Bruce Almighty!: Chinese take out, nuzzles from the Cuddle Monster, and Jim Frickin' Brickman! Susan hosts an unbelievably good get-together.

Us Davisons jetted up I-5 to Susan's condo in Vancouver to join the assembled throng of Joe, Carol, Robyn, Jared, and obviously Susan, all of whom came to see the only-briefly-in-town Bruce. After nice tour of Susan's place—I love her "creative room" upstairs—we settled in the living room, chatted (about going commando in Spandex among other things), and ordered Chinese take out.

Bruce had a great story to share about how he met Jim Brickman (whose "Lake Eerie Rainfall" from his album By Heart has been one of my favorite solo piano pieces for years). Apparently, Bruce's friend CM was helping out at an Oregon Public Broadcasting fundraiser attended by Jim Brickman, and, knowing that Bruce was a fan, she got Jim on the phone talking with him. Bruce was at his parents' place at the time, and his mom—also a fan—heard that Brickman was on the line, picked up the extension and started chatting with him. Fast forward eight or nine months, and Bruce, back in DC, not only bumps into Jim (who was in town for a concert), but Jim also remembers that Bruce was the guy on the phone whose mom picked up on the extension! Pretty classic anecdote, that.

Jonah made it through the night's gathering with only a little fussiness, thanks in large measure to help we got from Carol. It doesn't hurt that Jonah's been sleeping a lot recently, but Carol was (as always) very helpful in rocking Jonah into a gentle slumber. Oh yes we appreciate it....

Speaking of Jonah (aka Jonah Monkey aka the Critter aka the Cuddle Monster aka Babykins aka the Wiggler), he's started doing this nuzzling thing in the last few days, and it's amazingly fun. You'll be holding him close, and he'll bury his face in your chest or neck and start giving you little kisses. It's cute, it's sweet, it's painless, and it's quiet. In other words, except for a little drool it's nearly perfect baby behavior, and this evening Bruce got the full Jonah treatment. Bruce was holding the sleepy boy when Jonah dropped his head down a bit and...nuzzle...nuzzle...nuzzle. Bruce and I are in happy agreement that having Jonah cuddle up to you is one of life's great experiences.

Thanks to everyone for the great evening. We're already looking forward to the next time Bruce comes to town.

¶ "Welcome to Tokyo": Dad waited 34 years for payback. Jonah joyfully obliges. Happy Father's Day, Dad.

After a lovely meal at the Guadalajara Grill, the Davison clan return to Ma and Pa's for conversation (Mom, Dad, Bret, Erin) and naps (Jonah and me). Jonah got another eight hours of sleep last night, and although we know we won't always be so lucky, it's been a nice respite from the 4 AM wakeups.

Shortly after Bret returned to Portland with his friend Al, I found myself burping baby in the living room. Now Jonah's spilled a little milk in his day, but today I think he set the record. He'd been feeding like a ravenous wolf all day (portending a growth spurt we think), and what can I say? When babies eat too much they have a tendency to helpfully return the excess. This afternoon that excess was returned all over me.

My dad's response was "Welcome to Tokyo." This was the first thing he heard upon our arrival in Japan some 34 years ago. The first thing he felt was his eldest son burping up all over him. Dad's waited 34 years for the other shoe to drop and—Happy Father's Day, Dad—he seemed pretty darn amused when it finally did.

While the laundry cycled and I hung out in Dad's borrowed clothes, we watched the end of the Spurs-Nets NBA Championship. Good for the Spurs. Boring-as-anything game, but at least they're good fellows. After the game, we tuned into HGTV, a Home & Garden channel. Very interesting to see what others have done with their house remodels. Inspiring, really, much like today. Because if you don't think that some day I'm going to be saying to Jonah, "Welcome to Tokyo," you've got another thing coming.

¶ Two priests and a breastpump: A good headline in search of a story and not really finding it. Sorry.

Fathers Al Larkin and Bill O'Connell, Roman Catholic priests, stopped this evening for a visit. They're heading north to Washington at a slow but steady pace and Salem happened to be one of the stopping points. Father Al was the priest at Erin's parish in Los Altos when she was growing up, so it was a great opportunity for them to see one another and for us to introduce Jonah.

The Fathers are well-travelled. Much of our dinner time discussion at the Amadeus Cafe focused on the various trips we've all taken, but it was their tales of Italy that sparked my imagination. I was in Rome only briefly back in the summer of 1990, and I could stand to see more of what the country has to offer. I thinking the next time we go to Europe, we may do a France/Italy trip. That's gotta be years away seeing as how our oldest is not quite seven weeks, but the Fathers' stories reignited my interest, that's for sure. Many thanks to both of them for making us a stop on the journey.

Jonah was fairly good during dinner and took to the bottle reasonably well. I should backtrack and say that Erin started using the Medula breastpump yesterday which it why we were able to use the bottle this evening and which is what enabled us to drop Jonah off at my parents and go see The Matrix Reloaded yesterday. I tried serving him up some bottled breastmilk earlier today, and it proved not to be an easy task, mainly because I have no idea what I'm doing. I figured you just shove the bottle in his mouth and let him go at it. That seems to have been in large measure correct since he ended up draining that bottle (and was very unhappy when no more was forthcoming—Erin was out shopping). But I think the first run-through felt a little awkward for both him and me.

By dinner time, maybe I'd gotten the hang of it or he had or we both had. Whatever the case may be, he fed fine, and initially at least it doesn't appear to matter to Jonah whether he's fed by bottle or breast. This is a relief, because Erin starts classes at Western in a couple of weeks and unless Jonah and I are going with her every day, he's going to have to be bottle fed at least once or twice a day.

One other item of note: Jonah slept 8 hours last night, allowing us to do the same. Perhaps a fluke, perhaps not. We'll see how it goes tonight. Oh it would be a heavenly thing....

¶ The Matrix is finally reloaded: We're able to drop Jonah off with Grandma and Grandpa Davison and head for the cineplex.

We would've liked to have seen it on May 15, opening day, but parenthood intruded. That's OK. I'll take Jonah over a movie any day of the week, even one as stylish as The Matrix Reloaded. What follows are a few of my initial thoughts on the movie, bearing in mind that a single viewing is insufficient to grasp the theological and philosophical complexities of the script.

WARNING: If you have not seen The Matrix Reloaded, the following contains spoilers. Do not read until after you have seen the movie unless you really don't care (in which case, why are you reading it)? Also, if it's not almost immediately clear that this is a Hero's Journey story, you can stop reading now. Those car chases and kung fu fights sure were cool, weren't they?

OK, I had typed a long bit about everything I thought on Reloaded, but then I read an analysis that expressed what I thought better than I did and added a few pieces I'd missed completely. Read it here.

¶ On fatherhood, part 2: Ignorance is bliss but so is confidence in the face of the unknown. A summary of my philosophy.

I probably wigged more about our nursery remodel than Jonah's birth. The latter just never seemed like something about which to worry, in part because much of it was beyond my control and in part because we'd done what we could do to put the odds of success in our favor. Now I find worrying about things I can't control to be utter waste of time and consciously avoid that behavior. I mean, I'm busy enough concentrating on those things over which I have a smidgen of influence; if I go beyond that, I'll run out of time completely.

Still, I understand that a good many people are freaked by the pregancy/birth thing. Starting with conception itself, negative questions seem to pop up: "What if you can't get pregnant?" or "What if you have a miscarriage?" for example. (When I say "you" I obviously mean Erin. I'm an unlikely candidate to have a bun in the oven.) I confess to never having given these much thought, because the answer was either going to be "We're going to keep trying until we succeed" or "We're going to adopt." Life's going to go however it's going to go, and while a person can put the odds in his or her favor—and I'm all about playing the odds by the way—once you've done that, all you can do is let it happen. Further worry is not only unnecessary, it's potentially harmful. Show me somebody who worries a lot about situations beyond their control, and I'll show you a person who's deeply unhappy.

As a pregnancy progresses many parents to be begin dwelling on the possibility of birth defects. Erin ate nutritiously, took folic acid tablets, and continued her physical exercise regiment. She did her bit. The kid was going to be how the kid was going to be. Although we certainly hoped for a healthy baby (and apparently got our wish—though sometimes conditions and symptoms don't manifest themselves immediately), I never lost sleep over this. Again, I think it would have been pointless at best and counterproductive at worst.

As birth nears, many expectant parents start dwelling on the potential complications. Although US maternal death rates from pregnancy are around 1 in 10,000—and that includes moms giving birth out in some backwoods shack far from decent medical care—this is upsetting to some. I don't know why particularly, since the chances are so overwhelmingly in favor of everything working out fine during childbirth. I never felt any fear about Jonah's birth, even when Erin was struggling with the agony of the contractions. I figured that every one of us came into the world this way, and that's billions of similar experiences, pain and all. Odds were good—have I mentioned odds?—that we'd do fine too.

Of course I've meditated on the notion of fear a great deal over the course of the years. I understand it's a prime mover for many if not most people (though I can't think of a sadder way to live). Here's what I know to be true in my experience: There are two ways to successfully combat fear, and I don't mean drugs and denial. I mean action and love.

Taking action means doing what you are afraid of doing. Many times the anticipation of mental or physical pain is much greater than the actual discomfort. Facing ones fears head on, in a proactive fashion, helps us define precisely what it is that threatens us and, more often than not, eliminates it as a source of worry in the future. Since most of our day-to-day fears are unfounded, in those cases where we have legitimate reason to be afraid (and I find those to be few) appropriate action helps us remove any temptation toward the very detrimental "victim" mentality and move us toward finding solutions. There's a reason that the first of Stephen Covey's Seven Habits of Highly Effective People is "Be Proactive."

The second antidote to fear is love. When love is all you hold in your heart, there is no room for fear because they interact like water and fire. I look back on the miraculous day that Jonah was born, and I know that the reason I went through the experience utterly unafraid is that I felt nothing but love. In such an environment, fear can find no purchase. Cultivating an attitude of love (and gratitude, for what it's worth) is something I've worked at for a long time, and I would tell you two things: (1) Anyone can do it, and (2) I'm not remotely done working at it.

¶ How much for that booger?: $10 co-pay says Davison family.

Jonah lacks the self-recognition to behave like a little snot, but he can certainly get a plugged up nose. He wheezed through last night and didn't feed well this morning so we called up a Kaiser advice nurse for recommendations. If anybody out there thinks you can mention "one month old" and "breathing difficulties" in the same sentence without the telephone staff insisting that the infant come in immediately for a look-see, well, let me disabuse you of that notion right now. Given the threat of a malpractice lawsuit, they will err on the side of caution every time.

So Jonah got the once over by a pediatrician. He's 11 lbs. now, up about three pounds from his birth weight. The whistling nasal breathing was an easy fix. A few drops of saline solution in the nose, in with the aspirator, and slurp! Out comes the gross stuff. It wasn't pretty and Jonah didn't enjoy it at the time, but he's breathing fine again, so he'll deal. Otherwise, a clean bill of health.

Erin's the one who talked with the advice nurse, and I'm not sure that they couldn't have explained how to work the nasal bulb over the phone (or that we couldn't have figured it out for ourselves), but I'm glad we went in had Jonah looked at. In quizzing the pediatrican on all manner of baby topics we believe we may have gotten our money's worth. Otherwise, that's one expensive booger.

¶ All visitors welcome: Laura Simpson Ryan and family pay a visit followed by my annual chat with Mormon missionaries.

It's been a number of years since we saw UP alum Laura Simpson Ryan and her husband Dale. And we'd never met their son David. So we were thrilled that they could stop by today, meet Jonah, and we could all catch up. They're living in Woodburn where Dale is teaching middle school ESL and Laura is working on her Masters on the way to a teaching career. David is an active and inquisitive toddler. It's going to be fun to watch Jonah get there.

Maybe an hour or so after Dale, Laura, and David departed, two elders from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (LDS, or Mormons) stopped by. As has always been the case for me, I found these two young men extraordinarily pleasant and polite. We happily discussed the differences between the LDS Church and the Catholic Church (with which I am much more familiar).

I've said it before and I'll say it again: If the point of religion is to help its members become better people, the Mormons are doing something right. From genealogy to community involvement to family assistance, the LDS do an admirable job. Frankly, many of the other Christian denominations would do well to adopt some of the LDS practices.

Unfortunately—and I've said this before too—I'll never be able to join a church like the LDS that is so lacking in intellectual rigor that scripture must be interpreted literally. Actually so many parts of the Bible are contradictory I've never been quite able to figure out how fundamentalists accomplish the feat of literal biblical interpretation. The Bible's first book, Genesis, opens with two distinct creation stories, so it would seem to me that literalists are confused from the outset. Still, there are plenty of them out there, so they must have found some way to tap dance around it.

As a consequence, however, tonight's meeting didn't delve too much into theology. There's no point in blowing someone's belief system out of the water—something I might be able do with fundamentalists—unless you can replace it with something better, and that's not going to happen in a one to two hour meeting. Besides, I don't know what level of sin it might be to take away hope, but doing such a thing won't get you any Heaven points, that's for sure. I was more than happy to chat with the fellows, compare and contrast the two churches, and say "well met" at the end of it. I'll probably do it again next year.

¶ Kinda tough week so far: I'm slowly getting over my head cold, but life doesn't stop going just because I'm not 100 percent.

Monday night's coed soccer game up in Portland wasn't easy. I was ready to contribute a little bit, but we started the game with only seven players, and played the first 10-15 minutes with fewer than 11. Eventually enough people showed up to field a full squad, but we played the game without any subs, and I was in no condition to do that. I got a goal on a nice turn and left-footed shot into the side net. I was happy about that, at least. The game ended 3-3, a result we have to be encouraged by given our lack numbers. We better have more players next week or I'll be unhappy.

Tuesday I spent trying to figure out why the closing cost numbers in the refinance package are different from what they told me on the phone last week. They're in my favor, so the temptation is the roll with it, but I've never been one who likes not understanding exactly what's going on, especially when it comes to money. After running the numbers, I'm confident it'll all work out even if there are minor discrepancies.

Wednesday worked out OK in that I got a lot of client work finished, the house stayed at a moderate temperature in the face of 90 degree weather, and Erin finished up her paperwork for school. On that latter point, Erin will turn in all her stuff tomorrow morning and, with one brief exception next Monday, her school year is finally done, done, done.

Final unrelated note: Thank to Jim and Terri who gave me the album, I can now confirm that Coldplay's A Rush of Blood to the Head is everything I'd thought it would be. Erin says it reminds her of The Beatles and U2. While I concur, I'm also getting snatches of Pearl Jam and the Dave Matthews Band. All around great stuff. Highly recommended.

¶ Ty miffed, Jonah oblivious: Daddy doesn't like being sick because it cuts into cuddle time with the kid. Among other reasons.

It's been over a week since I've been able to get near Jonah, and it's frickin' driving me nuts. If he's not the cutest little boy ever, he's certainly in the top ten. I can't fathom how anyone who sees him doesn't just want to hug him. Now imagine how his dad feels having to stay away so he doesn't give little Jonah a cold. That's right: This sucks.

Jonah seems to be tolerating the deprivation of my company with a disheartening level of equanimity. He's sleeping well, pooping regularly (though it's surprising how much difficulty infants have passing what amounts to small curds), and feeding like nobody's business. If he's missing me, it's not obvious. Of course I still talk to him from across the room, sing him songs on piano, and move into his sightline at every opportunity. Maybe I've not been out of his life enough for him to miss. (Too bad, kid. There's more of me to come.)

Jonah's able to hold his head up fairly well now, and his eyes are open and alert. He can track movement of a person or object, though he may prefer staring at complex, high contrast patterns. He keep looking at the closet organizer Dave and I put up in the nursery. I'm not sure what he's seeing in there, but it's got him captivated, and captivated is good when he's laying on the changing table.

Developmentally, Jonah should be discovering his hands soon. That should be fun to watch because hands are pretty wonderful. During the first few weeks of life he was clueless about the whole thing. Whenever he'd get the slightest bit upset he'd wave his arms about and clock himself in the face. He didn't care for that at all, but sure enough, next time around he'd punch himself again. I started thinking it was a miracle our species survived. Nowadays he still waves his arms, but he's given up the self-boxing routine, which is obviously a step in the right direction.

Now if he can just get to the point where he'll start grasping toys, we'll get that boy some learnin'.

¶ Party Hearty Marty: In what was likely a plus, Jonah sleeps through most of a party in his honor. From BBQ to "Baby Cranium" to basketball in the park, good times roll.

We have nothing but props and kudos to Joe and Carol and Jim and Teri for planning, organizing, and executing yesterday's baby shower for Jonah, aka the best party this house has seen since we've owned it. In addition to Erin and me and the aforementioned two couples, attendees included Bret, Dave, Susan, Jared & Robyn, Dave & Eileen, Bernard & Liz, Don & Carlotta, and, of course, Jonah.

Joe ran the BBQ and cooked up kabobs while folks mingled. Lots of people brought delicious food, and I can guarantee that nobody went hungry. We're talking good eats, and that's not to mention the desserts which were also otherworldly. Someday Jonah will look back at this entry and wish he could've been munching on solids by now. Tough break, kid. We were all happy to chow down in your honor.

Since Bernard had helped me finish up the nursery (which is looking F-I-N-E), we were able to show it off to interested parties. Thankfully, that included pretty much everybody. While I'm glad the work is over, let me say for the record that (1) I'm thrilled with the way the nursery turned out, (2) I'm extraordinarily grateful for the help of Bernard, Dave, and especially Joe all of whom went well beyond the call of duty in getting the room put together, and (3) I learned an enormous amount about residential construction during the remodeling process and I'm heartened I'll never again be quite so inept at it as I was this time around. Anyway, everybody seemed to love the nursery, and I don't blame them: With the help of family and friends, Jonah's got himself a nifty little room.

We played a variant of Cranium, wherein people picked a slip of paper with a baby-related term on it and had to sculpt or draw the word and have it guessed by teammates within two minutes. Carol, the moderator of this event, seemed particularly pleased when I got stuck with "breast feeding." My salvation, such as it was, lay in having chosen to draw rather than sculpt for this particular turn. Had I been forced to become a latter-day Rodin, I'm sure we all would've been the worse off for it. Even now I think having to create boobs out of clay would've been pretty embarrassing.

We really can't thank everyone enough for the gifts we were given. We are blessed to have the support of so many people. Jonah doesn't even know how lucky he is. All he can do in the way of reciprocity is be cute, but at least he does that pretty well. Erin and I are happy to be grateful on his behalf.

A group of the guys went down to the park and played some hoops. I was neither expecting nor dressed to play, but I'm hardly one to turn down a game. It was fun and, head cold or no, good exercise.

Thank you to everyone who came to celebrate Jonah's existence, with a special thanks again to Joe, Carol, Jim and Teri for all the behind-the-scenes heavy lifting. Ya'll are awesome!