The Arch

That's my daughter. The TV is muted, she has no idea that it is on and that I'm watching football. She's sitting in her baby chair, or she's propped up by a boppy facing away from the all consuming boob-tube. I step away for 20 seconds to get the phone, and upon my return, there she is.

Nearly 4 fingers in her mouth, a death defying arch in her back with her eyes locked on the Colts vs. the Browns. Unbelievable? Hardly, she has my blood in her, and as I've stated before, I've been known to watch 4 shows at once. Welcome to the family curse Marley J. Welcome. It is quite funny, and does elicit some hearty laughs, as does some of her other antics, which have become plentiful in the last month.

Some of the funny changes include, laughing at photos of Samran that are around the house. She sees her mom's big smile in a picture, and after a second or two she begins laughing away. Another is her excitability before and after bathing each night. As soon as her diapers come off, it's high energy laughing and shouting. She loves it. Then after oiling her down, she goes into hysterics, laughing, baby talking, etc. Really quite fun. Then there is her desire to be standing as much as possible, with dad's support of course, followed by the discovery of the two things at the end of her legs, which will eventually get a good gumming, when she can pull them up that far.

It's all quite a roller-coaster ride, and as parents who have been there already know, completely and utterly amazing. As of yesterday she began eating rice cereal, with the pediatricians go ahead. I have no idea how I'm going to be able to handle seeing the rest. I'm already blown away.

The pouters lip I inherited from my dad


First breakfast


Me likey


Backoff!!! I'm tryin to crawl here!

The Quarter Year Old

I never thought I'd be saying things like this...but I am. Little Marley J is now 3 months old.

Now the reason I never thought I'd say stuff like that is because, frankly, I always hated hearing people say, "My son is 12 months old," or "My daughter is 18 months old." True as it may be, should I go around telling people that I'm 425 months old or should I just say 35 + change. While it makes me cringe when people say stuff like that "we're pregnant" being included, I now get what saying something like that means - milestones.

It's a pretty important time to hit some of those milestones, but I'll still push back, when I can, against those mainstream ideas, if for nothing more that to be a nuisance.

Anyhow, little Marley J is doing great. She talks at length about blah blah bluuuu or someone named aghoooo. I tell her back in kind words that I know aghooooo and blah blah bluuuuu is also a favorite past time of mine. Her smiles let me know we are on the same wave lenght. She even appears to speak Thai as my wife carries on and on in Thai and, once again, Marley just smiles and replies with mention of aghooo or yeeyoo, which must be a Thai word I don't yet know. It's funny, I never thought I'd be a part of a two language home, let alone three. English, Thai and the most important Baby, which is a surprisingly easy language to learn.

Besides that, Marley J is now pushing hard with her legs and is showing promise as some sort of a squat lifting champion. Without any use of her arms she thrusts with her legs and moves herself quite well.

Also, she has discovered 10 new friends that keep perplexed from time to time. They are right in front of her face these 10 little guys that grasp and move and scratch her face when she's tired. The day is coming when the executive will learn what they do. And on that day my friend Trouble will start showing his face, more and more.

Marley J and Pops home from work


Marley J gets prepared for Chicago Wiiiiiiiinnnnnter


MJ and Mom enjoy a Fall day walk

The Executive

There are no excuses the executive will take. No, "I'm exhausted. Can this wait" or "It's been an hour. Can I stop rocking now?" The look says it all. And usually the look doesn't even come your way. It's a look off into the distance while she sizes up the situation. Rock rock rock....an hour later stop. Whamo, eyes open and stare straight into the darkness, eyebrows in full arch.

Something like this:



"Ah..excuse me Mame. I'm not sure why I put you down. Please allow me to rectify the situation," and it's back to rocking, or picking her up, or walking her trough the house, or...you name it. Whatever she likes.

This volley goes on-and-on until finally, at the crack of exhaustion and what appears will be utter defeat, we all fall asleep wherever we may be. Alas, sleep comes to her royal highness and we all soak in every precious, unconscious moment.

Nothing the Exec does is in the wrong. Be it never sleeping, or throwing up on you, the couch, the floors, or even when the exec has the flatulence of a grown Chicago Bears fan after a 15 beer tailgate, it's always, "Good job!" afterward. She can do no wrong.

But I jest. I can sit and rocking her for hours on end. I find myself in awe as the little one lays still in my arms knowing that someday, she'll get up and walk away never to be craddled again. So for now, Ms. Executive, your wish is my command.

The Executive is also getting quite talkative. Many "Ahgoo" are commanded, and repeated back to her in kind. And like any good executive, she loves hearing her statements repeated and shows her pleasure with unexecutive-like smiles as you can see here:



The executive would also like to wish a Happy Haloween. She showed up as Dracula one morning, a few weeks too early I might add, but like any good worker, I didn't mention it. She demanded I photograph her and post the photo for your enjoyment.


Okay, no fangs or anything, but the hair is close.

Regards from the assistant (me) to the President (Samran) of the Executive known as MJ Coffee.

Butch

This is off subject from the Coffee Experiment, or maybe it isn't.

Yesterday I learned that Paul Newman had died, and it hurt. I guess saying that would lead some people believe that I follow Hollywood closely and take what actors do way too seriously. Though it is true that once upon a time I wanted to be an actor, make films, etc., that is not the case anymore. I find most of what Hollywood is to be a carnival of sideshows propped up to sidetrack the citizenry from engaging in public service/activism. And for that, I hate much of what Hollywood is about.

But here is where Paul Newman stands apart. Not that he was a huge political activist, which I find rather tiresome in today's actor/actress guild, but in the fact that he had the one true trait that leads people to better a better world - integrity. I won't go into why I believe he had integrity, I'll just say that he did. And yes of course I loved his movies.

Hud, Cat On A Hot Tin Roof, The Hustler, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, and the immeasurable, Cool Hand Luke. The last movie's character of which I have contemplated naming a son after, Luke Jackson. Maybe my kinship with him lies in the movie Butch Cassidy in which he costars with Robert Redford, for whom my father's nickname is derived from. (My father was called Red because he had the hair of Robert Redford.) Or perhaps it's because I see so many similarities in mannerisms between Newman and my father in the character of Fast Eddie Felson in The Color of Money.

Whatever the reason, Paul Newman, his body of work, etc. meant a lot to me. Thankfully that body of work will live on as well as his charitable endeavors.

Here's one of the most memorable scenes I've ever watched...and I've watched a lot:

The Fight

Dad, why are your eyes closing? It's making me sleepy! I don't like that...wait a minute! My eyes are closing too. Dad! What's going on...oh man...why is it so dark? I can't see anything. Jeez, it feel comfortable but, ahhhhhh! (Eyes snap open) There we go. Oh, I see you dad. Man. that was a close call. Hey your eyes are open now too. Why were they closed bef...wait...now they're closing again...what is happening to you! Why are your eyes closing again...it's making mine close too!!!

And so it goes, as many, if not all parents know. It's the ultimate fight. Marley watches my eyes and I her. As I pretend to fall asleep, barely keeping my eyes open, she stares and stares until hers finally shut. Then WHAMO, hers open again making sure I'm still there watching her sleep, holding her, etc. and so on. It's so funny (sometimes frustrating) that I nearly laugh out loud losing the battle. But so far so good.

As for Samran, her patience and soothing techniques make me look like an absolute moron. Marley and her, as Forest Gump said, is like peas and carrots. She'll pull two hour bedroom duty soothing and singing with no problem. All the while I think the both of them are sleeping.

Here are some pictures of the 7 week old going on 2 months.

Dang that was good milk...why does it make me so sleepy?


You know you love me.


You see this face? Dad has no chance!

Welcome Home DAD!!!

That's what buried deep in my mind I had come to expect. I come home, throw open the door after a hard days work, throw down the modern day briefcase (a one strapped backpack), say, "I'm Home!" and they wife and kids come a runnin. I say again, buried deep in my psyche, that's what was there. Probably too much Leave It To Beaver, when i was a kid. Too much American-mindedness of immediacy. You have a baby, and boom there you are in Leave It To Beaver world. But all of that is definitely not the case.

It is usually me tip-toeing through the door after a rough one at the office, trying not to make a sound. Worried, in fact, that just beyond the door is a sleeping babe who I could potentially rouse thereby infuriating the Master of the Universe, Samran.

It's not that bad, but you get the picture, as many of you may already know. I half expected to come home and everyone happy and waiting my arrival. Sometimes that happens, but all to often it is sleepy faces with equally sleepy smiles if they are even up.

But that's all fine. Marley is one cute little girl with a sassy demeanor, and Samran gives her every bit of love that she'll ever need. Mom and daughter are hooked at the hip.

Marley says she's always looking for mom. Constantly turning to see where she went, and please, don't bring a bottle around. I can see mom, and I know she has the good stuff, so nix that bottle.

As for dad, he's pretty cool. We listen to Radiohead, Sigar Ros and Broken Social Scene while he rocks me. It's cool music and I get to fall asleep on his check. But I wake up as soon as he makes one false move to get up and put me in my crib. I don't like sleeping in that thing, so back off!

Here are a couple of pictures Marley wanted to share:

Everything seems so interesting...


Sometimes we hang out in the kitchen when dad gets home.


What on earth are these things you call mobiles?!


Check out the duds and the rock star pacifier. I am HIP!

1 month old

So there is a one-month old living in my house these days and I just thought I'd comment on it.

She's far better looking than me, which is both a good thing and a little disheartening to know I am no longer the best looking S.O.B in the house.

She sleeps more than me, which I didn't think many people could do. Maybe only one or two. (Slip you know who you are.) Not to mention she enjoys waking me up even though it's a school night and I have to get up at the crack to make the donuts.

She cares more for my wife than me. I can tell this by the way she constantly turns her head in every direction to locate her mom. (How dare she look away from me.)

She eats healtier, grows new hair on her head by the day, has near perfect skin and big beautiful eyes. As for me, I might as well be chopped liver!

Anyway, I jest. Marley J is a wonder and we marvel at all of these things daily behind droopy sleep deprived eyes. I should say behind Samran's sleep deprived eyes, because she is the queen holding the fort together. She truly is doing a bang up job (that's how they talk at the office and the only thing I bring to the table).

Enough with the reading, here are a couple of photos:
Yes, I still enjoy my sleep. Backoff!


Cousin Kai & Me!!! I love cousin Kai!!!

There's a little stranger in my house

At least that's what it felt like. There I was, overly sleep deprived, starring at this perfect little baby all wrapped up like a burrito on my living room couch thinking, "What in the heck did we do?"

Then she cooed and moved a bit, and I thought, "Okay, that was precious," and not in a Lord of the Rings kind of way.

So here we are, almost one week since the early signs of labor, with this perfect little one named Marley, and all is well. She eats, she sleeps, she poops and pees. But each one of those things are fun to watch and be a apart of. But I don't want to get into the sappy stuff. Here are some details about Marley J, MJ or Marley Jantawan (pr. Johntawon):

Birthday: July 28, 2008 7:01pm CT
Weight: 6lbs 5oz
Hair: Black
Eyes: Dark brown
Skin: Honey (that's what mom says)
Looks: Like Mom
Demeanor: Hopefully like Mom
Like: Mom's singing
Dislike: When dad doesn't put the diaper on high enough up my back and I poop everywhere.

What's up DAD:


My Feet:


My Room:


Leaving the hospital with my Mom who is the bestest and who always smiles and feeds me whenever I want:

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick

That's all it is like around here, a ticking time-bomb. We sit, we wait, and nothing. When is this little rugrat going to get tired of the warm sanctuary of my wife's abdomen and show herself?!

Seriously though, no rush. Incubate as long as you need little one. Soon enough you'll be barraged by advertising as accurate and deadly as a cruise missile. Soon you'll be surrounded by fast food chains, the media frenzy of Paris Hilton, Lilo and other stupid media nicknamed people who have no discernible impact on this world other than making people more apathetic by reveling in their lives. Seriously folks, entertainers have become the government's weaponized propaganda machine. SLEEP civilian....SLEEP. Believe me, you don't even want to get me started on my sheer hatred for MTV, the bile perks up at the mere thought of it. Maybe this is an old man speaking, but I remember when they actually had music on Music TeleVision.

Anyway, I guess my point with all of this is, I'm scared for what my child's future in America. Raising a child right, well, that is tough enough. But trying to keep them away from the influence of media, friends engulfed in the media/consumerism, is going to be tough.

Now I'm not saying you can't raise a child in the U.S.A without them falling prey. I in fact work with a gentleman who has two young children of around the ages 9 and 6. He has a Nintendo Wii at home, and upon asking him a few months ago how often that Wii is used, he said it and the TV it is attached to are under a plastic painting tarp in the basement he has been finishing for the last few months. "Have the kids been begging to get that baby up and running?" I asked. "Nope," he replied. Astonishing!!! So I do believe you can direct your child in different alternative directions. But wait until his daughter his 13, 12 or maybe even 11 when those "friends" of hers bring about their leaning peer pressures.

This is what I fear for Samran and I. Mostly for Samran. Her Thai culture is quiet and polite. You get on the elevated train (BTS) in Bangkok, Thailand and it is almost silent. This is with a fully packed train. And I say almost silent, because their are doubtlessly a handful of tourons (tourists) barking away at one another, which all the Thais are trying their hardest to look away from/get away from. Now, get on a train in Chicago, and it's people playing music on their phones without the courtesy of using headphones, kids yaaking like Tom Cruise just buzzed the tower, garbage all over the floors, on and on and on.

Now, I'm not the most patient man, so I know, some if not most of this is me. But what I will not relent is that many of Americans, mostly in the cities, have become loud, obnoxious and uncaring of their fellow citizen from a standpoint of consideration. Considerate is a word that should be wiped from the face of the American city, because considerate, just doesn't happen.

No doubt my child will have it as both her parents do. But that's just one piece of my many fears. Someday, I fear, I'll have to leave this country with our family to ensure that those other influences are far and away.

The TV Junkie to teach what NOT to do

If you know me well enough, or have lived with me, then you may very well know, I am a TV junkie. It's not by love, but mostly laziness. I don't even realize that I'm doing it. I've been known to watch 4 different thing on TV - at the same time. I used to pride myself in it.

Back in the day when video stores were the only way to get movies in the house, I could walk into a store with my friends, and literally tell them what 90% of the movies on the shelves were about. I'd seen everything. No matter how bad. Most of the movies I'd seen multiple times. (How depressing it is to think about the time I lost because of this addicition.) I guess the one thing gleened from all of this watching is that it gave me thousands of ideas for stories, movies, etc. However, I've never capitalized on that, because, you guessed it, I'm too busy watching TV to put it down on paper.

My point is this. I do NOT want my kids growing up with this habit. And I think I can be successful at keeping them away from it. How? By sheer force. And it leads me to other vexing issues that I realize are short-comings of mine. Patience - I have none. Temper - I can get absolutely steamed at nothing. All of these things, I realize as problems of mine, and I surely don't want my children to learn it through me.

I therefore vow to make these things just part of the past. I plan on teaching them that waiting can be good. That not making snap judgments of peoples qwirky behavior who may impede the greater masses, shows class and dignity. That being rational in high pressure situations is a gift.

I say all of this knowing that best laid plans...well, you know. I was taught the correct things, some of them stuck, some didn't. I realize my view on the world is very much skewed from the norm, and I don't intend to change that about me or my child. Besides, the more I push in one direction, surely the bigger the boomerang effect will be.

One thing I'm sure to beat into their heads though is this, MTV is bad and questioning everything, besides my own word, is good.

Fear #1

The baby showers have come and gone, the baby room is nearing completion and I can see my lovely friend sleep waving goodbye from a misty morning train. That latter is my biggest fear.

I am not scared of much of what's to come, other than never having a sound nights sleep again for the next 20 years. The reason I fear that is because I have a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde complex when it comes to sleep. If I don't get enough or if I'm awoken before I want to get up, I'm like Dick Cheney with something to lose - nasty.

My brother can attest to this having woke me many a morning before my desired time. In one instance he woke me at 7:00am the day after a wedding reception to say goodbye as we probably wouldn't see each other for several months. He was met with nothing less than contemptable anger and rage at having been woken up.

This is my fear for the coming months, years and decade of being woken up by a child.

All this being said, just last Thursday morning at about 3:30am, my wife felt it necessary to awaken me. This after I had just gone to sleep at 1:00am. (I'm trying to get all of the late nights out of my system before it's baby time.) To my surprise, I heard her call and graciously woke asking her "What's wrong?" Turned out that she was having a major Braxton/Hicks contraction (this is a preperatory contraction). I breathed her through it, rubbed her back and got her some water. After 20 mintues of not desisting we got out of bed and I dove into internet/book research. I was telling her what women experiencing the same thing on the internet were doing and helped her walk around, etc. At the point where contrations became to frequent I even contacted our doctor and explained the issue, who reassured us all was well.

Afterwards at about 6:30am, I realized I had made it past the first test and kept the beast within at rest. I was pleased with myself to say the least. Not proud, as it was just what any husband would be expected of, just happy I reacted well.

As a side note to this, we've come up with two final sets of names. That is two Thai names and two western names. Thanks to those who commented on the names issue. Suneil, Abigal was a thought, but thinking of yelling that poor girl's name out the window every day at Campus Hill killed the idea. Patty, excellent look into how someone deals with being called by a middle name. Great food for thought.

I'll being updating more frequently as my next big issue is, how to raise a kid outside of capitalist corporate America while living directly in it.

The Name Game

I'm not sure how in the heck this process of selecting a name for your child is done. I say this because I have 2 books, both given to me, one which has 30,0001 names and the other which has a whopping 100,000 names... Recently I was in a book store and saw a book with one hundred thousand and one names - insanity. They had to have one more than the 100,000 book. (I wonder which one name they added?)

Usually I've been alright at coming up with names. Much to the future chagrin of my young newphew, his name was one I came up with. However, these name books have thrown off my whole thought process. I mean, how in the heck do you come up with one name out of a list of 100,000? I'm half tempted to just write down a bunch of names, put them in a hat, and then let our soon-to-be daughter reach in and grab her name out. That seems as reasonable as anything else.

I'm fearful of choosing a name because honestly, I think most kids question their names sooner-or-later wondering how they got that name. (Don't worry mom, I like my name just fine, and in light of the current circumstances, I realize naming a child is a no win situation.) Heck, they even wrote a novel/made a movie about an Indian kid named Gogol, who cannot stand the name his father had given him, until his father dies, and he understands just how important it is. Not to be dramatic, but seriously...this naming stuff is in a word, crazy.

Maybe we should do it just as Picaboo Street's (famous skier) family did it. The parents told the children to name her. GENIUS!

I'm wide open, kids, if you have ideas, send them on. I don't garauntee that I'll use any of them, but you never know. I've thought outside of the popular thought stream for some time, so I'm not closed off to the idea of using a good name you come up with.

As for Samran, she is working diligently on the Thai name our baby will have, which will most likely be the first name. But as for the English name, she's pretty open. It will most likely be the name that our little girl will go by.

Here is a short list of western names that I've come up with in case you are interested:

Bella
Nina
Pricilla
Sasha
Emma
Nissa

Now see....I just realized that everyone of those names has the letter "A" at the end...this job of parenting is already proving its impossibility. :)

Love,
Pops J

Little Babies, Let's GO!