They Were So Little Once, Part II (Helios' First Few Weeks in the World)

At an early age, Helios exhibited one of the worst family traits from both his mother's and father's families: He was late. Not just a little bit late either, mind you. He was born about 10 days late. Ten days overdue is a long time from Mommy's perspective. Mommy was hot, large, and turgid...and relishing the idea of being in an air-conditioned hospital room several pounds lighter of a child. Eventually, the doctor decided that Helios had slumbered enough in comfort so it was time to come out. With a lot of work from Mommy and some medical intervention, Helios was finally born at a whopping 9 lbs. 9 oz. - he clearly didn't need those extra 10 days baking in the oven. (The labor was a little stressful for him and he'd sucked on his index finger in utero, which is why there's a little blood blister showing.)


Other than the predictable comments about how "adorable" Helios was (how many people ever say, "gee, your kid looks like a ogre's hairy left foot!"?), the most common exclamation heard was, "my, he's so alert for a baby!" And that is true for sure. Whereas Mommy had spent the final weeks of pregnancy expecting the first few weeks to nap whenever Helios napped, she was bitterly disappointed. Helios was awake all...the...time (except at night when he started sleeping 6-8 hours at a stretch by the time he was 3-4 weeks old - so there was some relief).

Why was Helios always so alert? Well, it could've been part of the self-perpetuating cycle engendered by Mommy's frequent caffeine consumption. (Baby doesn't nap = Mommy doesn't nap = Mommy is tired = Mommy drinks iced tea to stay awake = milk for baby has caffeine in it = baby doesn't nap = ... = Mommy drinks more caffeine.) But, we think it's more likely that he had an energetic interest in everything.


Soon after coming home, Helios received his first manicure, which he accepted with intrigued silence. In the car, Helios would never sleep (as Grandma Jane and Grandpa Mel predicted he would); instead, he sat awake staring quietly at the fuzzy lights ... except for the other times when he'd scream bloody murder at suffering the indignity of being placed in a car seat.


Even awake during nap attempts, Helios would stay awake to stare at Daddy with a solemn, wide-eyed stare, fascinated by the significantly larger person next to him (who wouldn't nurse him). If Helios had been verbal at just a week or two old, Mommy is pretty sure he would've said or thought in this picture, "who the hell are you, big man?" (with his best Stewie Griffin voice).


Among his favorite interests were sitting with Grandma Jane (shown here emanating the grandmotherly glow that is especially strong when holding the very first grandchild) who cooed at him endlessly, and playing in his kicker/bouncer, which would fascinate him endlessly. Hesperos played in the same kicker but did so disinterestedly. Not so for Helios, who would make the toy bounce with high-impact enthusiasm, skinny legs kicking as adeptly as when Helios was inside Mommy's tummy working on tenderizing the muscle on the inside of her left ribs.

Occasionally, though, Helios would forgo playtime in lieu of helping Mommy get some work done (which she, true to form, tried to do even while on maternity leave). In this picture, Helios is doing his best "Kilroy Was Here" impression.

Things really aren't too different now. Whenever Mommy tries to work, Helios is at her side trying to play with the computer. He still adores Grandma Jane and enjoys riding in the car (generally talking up a storm to himself or Hesperos, his favorite listening companion, and rarely snoozing). But, thankfully, one thing has changed. While he still protests strenuously and begs for "one more minute!" to play, at least he now naps.

They Were So Little Once, Part I (Hesperos Coming Home)

While organizing photos of the boys, I came across a few of Hesperos when we brought him home. As many know, Hesperos was an NICU baby, spending the first 10-14 days of his little life in first an incubator, then on respiratory assistance, then on monitoring for breathing difficulties. During those first few days, he was unable to muster enough strength to nurse so he went from his good-sized 8 lb. 8 oz. birth weight to a much smaller 6 lb. 3 oz. size when he came home. In spite of the 3 lb. 5 oz. weight loss, Hesperos was still the largest baby in the NICU, where we had the experience to see first-hand babies with true problems.


The upside to the NICU experience was the extended hospital stay. While no special treat for Mommy (the food really is as bad as everyone says), it afforded opportunities for Helios to take plenty of high-speed rides in the wheelchair, powered by the Daddy engine.









The day Hesperos came home was a happy one, although Helios was a little bewildered by Mommy's slightly smaller stomach and this new little mewling thing which he'd only been able to see for a few moments after Hesperos' birth (children not being allowed into the NICU). Helios spent a lot of his time running to and around Hesperos' bassinet, where he would climb up to look over the edge at the baby sleeping within.



The bassinet had a built-in recording device and we taught Helios how to say "I love you, Hesperos" and record it. So, when Helios was away at daycare, Mommy could push the playback button on the bassinet and Hesperos could hear his brother's voice say "I love you, Hesperos." However, Helios couldn't say Hesperos' real name, so he called him "Poohaf" for the first several months.


Now, Hesperos is, at only 16 months, only 6 or 7 pounds smaller than older brother Helios, and, except for the occasional ear infection or experience with pneumonia, he's as healthy as can be. Helios is certainly no longer bewildered by his little brother and none of us treat Hesperos like a delicate flower. Certainly, to watch the two of them cavort around and rough-house (just tonight, Hesperos would take a running start and then barrel into Helios, knocking them both over into a pile on the floor where they'd laugh themselves silly), you'd be hard-pressed to imagine Hesperos ever being a tiny baby.

Life from Helios' POV

Obviously, Mommy and Daddy have taken it upon themselves to document the boys' lives through photographs. Not only does this make the memories last longer, but it increases the probability that we'll have real and significant blackmail material when they become famous later on. (Hey, don't be critical about this approach! Have you checked the state of Social Security recently or the stock market? We need to ensure our retirement comfort some how and blackmail may be the ticket!)



Helios, imitating Mommy and Daddy, has become quite a photography fiend himself. There's a children's play camera (with a creepy Chucky-like laugh) at Grandma Jane's that Helios played with during his summer visit...and loved. He loved it so much that about three months ago, when he remembered it, he got on the phone and asked her to send it to him (she did) and then proceeded to ask for it 6-10 times a day afterward until it got here. ("Daddy, when is Grandma Jane sending my camera?" "Mommy, where's my camera?" "Why don't I have a camera!!!?!!!")

But, Helios is now a couple of months older now and his photographic tastes have matured. While he still likes the play camera, he often hops up and down begging to play with the "real camera," specifically Daddy's. While we're understandably hesitant to allow him to touch and play with something so expensive (not to mention something so indispensable to our plan for retirement prosperity), occasionally we let him take a photo or two. This may make you wonder, "what does life look like from Helios' point of view? What does Helios feel is important to photograph?" Maybe you're even wondering, "how good is Helios as a photographer?"

All very important questions, which is why we're providing you with this exclusive opportunity to view some of Helios' fine photographic work, including a very rare picture of Mommy (let me assure you, it is very rare to find a picture of Mommy...especially one of Mommy about 10 minutes after having been at the gym), shown at left.

Also provided here is a photo Helios took of Hesperos (shown above), and a snapshot of the "nummy-nummy" (with belly pats) seasonal best candy canes (also above).

Finally, last but not least, we provide to you an example of some of Helios' finest interpretative work called "What My Belly Would See If It Could See and Looked Up at My Face." At right you will see Helios' self-photograph...although perhaps not from the best vantage point (digitally edited to ensure nothing unsightly was visible in the nose area).

Is Santa Scary or Splendid?

This past holiday season, we contemplated the age-old question of Santa Claus, whether he is truly jolly ol' Saint Nick or the epitome of scary fright nestled snugly in a red felt suit with white furry plush edging.


To help you come to your own decision, we present you with Exhibit A, a photo of happy, smiling Helios, eyes sparkling during a recent visit with the gloved wonder (no, not Michael Jackson, which would decide the scary v. splendid question easily enough). Santa would make light conversation with Helios, inquiring as to his behavior, whether he was good to his little brother, and other such appropriately paternal inquiries. In every visit with Santa or one of his helpers, Helios asked for the same thing: "a big present, a really, really big present. I want a big wrapped box for me to unwrap." Several people tried to pry into Helios' Christmas request, inquiring what should be inside that Christmas-wrapped box. Every time, Helios said, "nothing. I want a really big box to unwrap and Santa needs to bring it. He needs to, Mommy!" Every night, along with a prayer for his family and friends, sandwiched between "Good night, God" and "Good night, Jesus" was "Good night, Santa Claus. Don't fall out of your sleigh!" Clearly, Santa Claus is held in very high esteem. Love and concern for Santa emanated profusely from every pore on Helios' 3-year-old body.

Now, please consider if you will, Exhibit B. This is Hesperos, screaming in bloody terror during a preschool visit by Santa. This was not a single occasion. Every time Hesperos was approached by the hairy elderly guy who liked to have children sit on his lap (hmm...), his reaction was the same. Whether Santa came bearing candy canes, toys, coloring books, or just a jolly laugh, Hesperos recoiled in fear from the plentiful beard, suddenly wanting to cuddle with anyone in the continental United States who could take him far, far away. Since Hesperos still wears diapers, it's unlikely, but in the picture at right, the shading on his pants looks like Hesperos lost his bladder control during this visit to Santa.

Santa: scary or splendid? Include this among the important decisions you must make in 2008.

School Photos

In a lot of ways, we find that preschool is like a concierge service for parents. We drop the boys off in the morning, where they run to play with toys and spend the day doing various activities. Someone else helps them clean up their mess, ensures they're fed and clean, and deals with the struggle of putting them down for naps. Although we occasionally feels twinges of guilt for not "working" as hard as we should to handle our children's necessities and spend more time with them, it's an undeniable truth of being a two-parent working family that daycare is a necessity. All that said, the preschool does lots of "little things" that really make having the kids there a pleasure. For example, the preschool periodically invites a hair stylist in to do hair cuts, so we send in a check and the kids come home with their hair coiffed. This is a task that Mommy and Daddy often don't tend to until the boys' hair curls to a length that rivals Cousins Rose's and Jasmine's.

Something else the preschool takes care of for us is pictures. While we take plenty at home with the digital camera, we've never taken the boys to a real photography studio (or even one of the shopping mall drive-thru style photo stores). Given that the boys are the only grandchildren on Daddy's side, we know that good, frame-worthy photographs are a requirement.

So how lucky are we that the preschool brings in a photographer semi-annually to take "real" pictures for us, with the prints received just in time for holiday gifts! (Perhaps one of the nicest things about being young parents of the only grandchildren is that holiday gifts are taken care of for the next 10 years or so. If the kids put their hand print on a t-shirt, *poof* it's a gift for Grandpa. If the children make a drawing, *poof* it's worthy of Grandma's refrigerator. If the children string together some beads on a pipe cleaner, *poof* it's a bracelet for one of their aunts.)

A photo was taken of each boy, with one picture of them together. Both boys look as handsome as ever, with Helios looking a bit more animated while Hesperos has the same half-frozen smile in each shot. What was the photographer making Hesperos look at to elicit such a look? We have no idea.

But what we do know is that you take take each of these pictures, put them in a frame, and then what do you have? That's right...

*poof* Christmas presents for the grandparents and great-grandparents!