It is good for us to be here…

07 August 2010, 14:07

So I feel like this entry will be a little bit more serious…or at least part of it, out of necessity and not out of some sort of need to "balance out" my experiences here. Granted, I reserve the right to be a little bit less serious toward the end, and that may, in fact, be out of a need to balance out the entry…so there.

I left the BBCCOE just after posting my last entry in a bit of a rush. I had planned on leaving, running over the Christ the King Cathedral for Friday daily Mass (Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord…whoop!), then heading to the store to buy a SIM card for our newly acquired house cell phone, and then being back at the house by 6 so that my roommate and I could get out of the house and get some dinner and see Inception at the local cinema. That was the plan…instead, I found myself in an experience that I would not have anticipated before coming here.

As I entered the Cathedral, which by the way we in America would mistake for just a normal parish Church because of it's relative simplicity, I noticed right away that something was different. The Church was much more full, and the majority of the people there were wearing black. In retrospect, I should have put two and two together, but of course I didn't. Instead, Vincent the Electrical Engineer said something to me about this being a special Mass that would be conducted in Setswana, the local language. "Okay, that's fine," I said and smiled. I proceeded to start reading the Office of Readings for the day, which, by the way, were amazing and fruitful (I encourage looking them up and giving them a slow reading). I was truly pleased with the readings, speaking so eloquently and truthfully about Christ's Transfiguration and how it took place in part to inspire the Apostles and encourage them even when they would later fear their Lord was gone forever. It spoke, if I remember correctly, about the glimpse into the glory of Christ and His promise of Eternal Life in Him for those who are faithful. And, the readings mentioned spoke of the awe of the Apostles and Peter's words "Lord, it is good for us to be here." Indeed, they said, it is good for us to be in the presence of God, to climb the Mountain in prayer and worship to be with Him and to glimpse His glory, to rise high above what our bodies sense and see the world as God's world, and to appreciate being there to witness it.

I took this all in as the Mass was about to start, and kept trying to remind myself of the notion "It is good for us to be here," as everything that was to take place was unfolding. As a group of local people proceeded in dressed in black clothing and golden robes, they sang beautifully solemn songs in their own language. It was clear that they took pride in their singing, because it was so perfectly arranged and truly sounded as if it came from heaven. Then I noticed behind them about six or eight men carrying a casket. I realized of course then what was going on, why everything was so different, and lastly that I had been blessed to stumble upon this sacred event.

As songs were sung before the Mass began, I started to realize how appropriate it was for this to take place on the day we celebrate the Transfiguration of Christ. As the pall bearers proceeded toward the front of the Church where Christ in His True Presence resided in the tabernacle, I envisioned it as a trip up Mount Tabor, with the deceased essentially walking into the Presence and Glory of God. The choir, with their angelic harmonies, contributed to this feeling of approaching this Glory, and I thought "How wonderful to be assured of the lasting Glory of Christ even in the face of death and sorrow." How much must Christ's strength been obvious on that day when remember this promise and the encouraging and inspiring vision Peter, James, and John were blessed to witness! In the face of distress, heartbreak, and grief, when it may have felt that all was lost, we were reminded, just as Christ intended, that "Lord, it is good for us to be here." Where else but in the Presence of Christ could have been found such grace, such Love, such wonderment, and such confidence in the face of such sadness?

As the Mass proceeded in Setswana, I was reminded how blessed I am to be a member of the Church Christ founded upon Peter thousands of years ago: the Catholic (that is, universal) Church. I loved thinking about how, despite being present for the celebration of the Holy Mass in English, Latin, Spanish, Korean, Italian, and Setswana, I knew what was being said and what was happening in each part. I loved that thousands of miles from home in Gaborone, Botswana, the Mass was the same as it was in Houston, College Station, El Paso, and Rome. How wonderful a gift for us, how beautiful a glimpse into Christ's glory, how amazing a participation in the wedding Feast of the Lamb, how incredible a taste of Heaven on Earth, how awe-inspiring a parallel to Christ's Transfiguration, how true that "Lord, it is good for us to be here!"

Surely this is why after three days of traveling, arriving in Botswana, and feeling so lost at first, and after three more days here and feeling so far from everything…surely this is why at Mass I felt the comfort and Peace of being "Home."

The Mass eventually continued and concluded, and all throughout I thought of how wonderful as well to witness something of such depth and solemnity from this culture. Truly I never would have imagined attending a funeral Mass in Setswana, let alone how fruitful and appropriate it would have been given the feast day. Indeed, as a friend once reminded me, and as I hear that friend reminding me again and again as time goes by "God knows the desires of your heart, and He will grant them." How true indeed, and to think that He knows our desires even better than we know them ourselves!

End serious part.

As I left the Cathedral, I looked at my watch and noticed that, as the dwindling sunlight and growing darkness suggested, it was already a quarter after six. I headed straight for home, and, taking the shortcut by the clinic and through the alleyway close by, made it home in good time (about 14 minutes). Changing out of my clothes that smelled like clinic and the kicked up dirt from the walk to and from home, we headed to the Sun Hotel just across the way to catch a taxi.

I don't know if the people working there realized that I'm a poor student, or if they even care, but rather than call a cab I kinda prefer to walk over there and act like I'm someone actually staying there (ie read "a foreigner with money"). We jumped in the cab and were greeted by our driver, who stated his name was "Steven" or "Boy". To be safe, I stuck with Steven. To be sure, this taxi ride made us feel the most American we had ever felt since being in Botswana. Steven's radio, unlike his taxi, was shiny and new, and it was blaring songs that you'd expect to hear back in the States, profanity and all! In any case, he was a blast, and as we neared the Mall we told him we would call him again when we got a SIM card for our phone (to do this, we split his number and each memorized half, since we had no phone in which to store it and no pen with which to write it…we were prepared, weren't we?)

We jumped out of the cab and I headed straight to the Pick 'n' Play grocery store (grocery stores in a Mall…right?) where of course they had SIM cards and prepaid airtime for sale. After taking about 20 minutes to figure that whole ordeal right, our phone was on, working, and we graced StevenBoyTaxi with our first call. I felt like a woman must have felt after being given the right to vote…it was empowering! I could do anything, be anyone, or go anywhere!!

Okay, so maybe it was just nice to have some sort of means of contacting the outside world….

We proceeded to walk over to an Indian food restaurant in the mall, where the service was a little, how can we say…slow. The food was great, though I am surely no expert nor even really experienced in the world of Indian food. However, the vegetable samosas and butter chicken that my roommate (who has lived in India all told for over a year's time) helped me pick out were swell. The butter chicken was sweet and, well, buttery, but hit you with spice as soon as you swallowed…awesome. All in all, it was great food for the price as well, with both of us eating with drinks, appetizers, and full meals for about P250 ($35) total.

The service being slow, and my tardiness, however, made us miss the start time of the movie, so instead we decided to go next door to the "Linga Longa Bar and Grill" and people watch. As we watched to locals interact, dance, and yes, sing karaoke, we each tried one local cocktail and called StevenBoyTaxi to pick us up. Safe and sound and home, I showered, read a bit, and fell asleep as the concert at the Hotel/Casino next door played on till well past midnight.

This morning, then, has just been a lazy morning thus far. Snoozing my alarm (set for 8 initially) until just after 10, figuring out this laundry machine here and hanging clothes out to dry…how domestic! Now, as I wait for my fourth load to dry (no, I did not wear everything I own, but the washer is tiny…not to mention cryptic in its hieroglyphics of how to use the different cycles), I'm just updating the blog and about to get ready to the Mokolodi for to meet some cheetahs (and hopefully a bunch of their friends)!

This trip is helping me to appreciate my family, my work, and my faith all the more. I miss everyone back home, but in all sincerity, it is good for me to be here….

The World Turned Upside-Down

So, another day, another entry/post. I think at this point that I have decided to ditch the idea of an formal written journal and stay with typing up my shenanigans and thoughts…I mean, for me, the idea of keeping a journal is for the following purposes:

A) To keep a memory of what happened, since my memory is terrible once something is more than a few months old (thank you very much medical school, you have obliterated my long-term memory, and if I had had my neurology lectures more recently I'd curse you for the specific region of my brain that you've destroyed…in any case, I don't feel bad about the poor memory because I think it's normal for medical students…take Doogie Howser, for example: he had to type on his computer to keep his thoughts and feelings in his memory…the only differences are that I'll be typing way faster than he did, the rest of the world will read this via blog instead of via circa 1990 television, and in the end I won't forget to be attracted to women like he apparently did.)

Oh yes, reasons for blogging:

2) To allow Ali to read about what I've been up to and to be sure that I indeed have not forgotten to be attracted to a woman (love you, babe); and

D) "We live on the most boring street in the country where nothing REMOTELY dangerous will ever happen. Period." (Points to you if you picked up on not just the quote but the other reference to it in the above).

So in any case, electronic journal it is. I just don't have the time to sit and journal like I did on the long bus and train rides in Italy, so I've gotta either go to a faster option or just give it up entirely. Fast it is…lucky youJ.

Okay, so since yesterday not too much has happened. The night essentially consisted of me leaving the BBCCOE (pronounced Bi-bi-Co-A, emphasis on the third syllable and short for Botswana-Baylor Children's Center of Excellence) and ran across the street next to the House on Phiri Crescent to get some cash from the ATM. I was essentially sick of not having cash in case I wanted to get a cab, but a piece of questionable fruit or candy from one of the numerous table vendors EVERYWHERE, etc. After getting about $100 in Pula and putting the colorful money in my wallet, I headed back home.

Essentially the rest of the night was uneventful, consisting of listening to music while deciding to cook pretty much everything I bought the night before. In the end, I ended up with tri-color spiral pasta with sautéed onions, green bell peppers, fresh garlic, and tomatoes, along with oil, Italian herbs, and salt and pepper). I decided to dub it "Pasta a la Gaborone."

Pasta a la Gaborone needs a bit of work. Don't get me wrong it tasted good, but I think I didn't have quite enough vegetables and seasoning to get it quite right, and it needed some salt. However, after cooking the entire bag of pasta at one time, I have about 3 or 4 meals worth of "Just add salt!" instant Pasta a la Gaborone.

Okay so that wasn't too exciting of a story…but that's stream of consciousness for you, and sometimes my consciousness is boring…don't act like yours isn't.

In either case, speaking of boring, I spent the rest of the night reading about diagnosis and staging of HIV in kids, and then it was time for some Night Prayer and off to sleep reading the wonderful bedtime story of Mark Levine's Liberty and Tyranny. This morning was pretty typical, with a few notes to well, note. I was able to rush getting dressed, stuff 1.57 bowls of Corn Flakes and "Full Cream Milk" down my esophagus, and get to the clinic by 7:30. Which, by the way, brings up the point of this full cream milk. I am starting to wonder if it's all just a lie. I mean, of course it's full cream, but what I mean is, if the carton says full cream, then that implies that there must be something less than full cream, right? Not so fast, Mr. Milk Fat Hater…I'm sure it must exist, but as of 6 days, 2 shopping trips, and extensive searching, no such fraction of cream yet exists.

Anyhoo, once to the clinic, I was blessed to see my lovely wife and John-Paul the Babe! He was wide awake following his midnight snack, and whilst (yes whilst) Mommy and I talked, he stared straight at the screen looking at me. He even talked to me a couple of times! I can already tell that he is getting sooooo big, and am sad that I'm missing him grow. However, he left me a note in my suitcase saying that he's saving a bunch of big burps just for me (of course he is…burping is Daddy's job…Mommy does imports, Daddy handles exports…TMI? Well, again, stream of consciousness…deal.)

Today's clinic was a blast! I was able to work with one of the Medical Officers (here, people who have finished med school are called the above, or MO's until completing the equivalent of residency, at which point they become "Specialists" if I understand correctly). And boy was he efficient. Out of 45 or so patients divvied up between the three docs in the Pedi Clinic today, he/we saw 21! It was great…and I got to do 21 physical exams, just reporting what I found to him without any real questioning from him at all…which is kinda scary. However, the big deal in this clinic is to catch anything obvious, which should be apparent before the exam, and to ensure that the patient is doing well on treatment. Even still, it was nice to actually feel like I contributed somewhat to the patient's care without having to be overlooked and double-checked by someone else. They trusted me!!! And to make me feel even more doctor-ly, while standing in the hall waiting for the next patient to come back, random Botswana kid (let's call him, to have some chance of being accurate, Luke) runs down the hallway towards where I am. I think "Okay, he's running to get to his exam room, etc." Instead he runs up to strange white doctor-looking guy (let's call him, me) and throws his arm out around my waist for a big hug! How awesome is that?!?! And then about ten minutes later I saw him in the hallway again and, yep…another random hug.

Clinic is always fun, but truly, it's also at times saddening. The idea that every kid has an as of yet incurable disease is somewhat defeating. Some look wonderful, some look thin and malnourished, some look sick, and some are in bad situations such that you go to listen to their lungs and find healing wounds and scars from apparent lashings only to hear from Grandma "Her older brother was beating on her." It's not your typical pediatrics clinic. But despite everything, when you think about what medicine is all about, it is truly not about saving lives and preventing death in the end. HIV is incurable. Death is incurable, though. It's something we will all experience, and as doctors it is the disease that will never be "cured." Instead, medicine is about caring for someone who cannot otherwise care for themselves in the way that is needed, about improving someone's life, and about loving a stranger through the work that you are blessed to do.

Okay, so that was kinda deep, but now back to earth at the end. What, you say? Oh yes! The title of the blog post. I agree, I haven't covered it yet…it's something that I hope to add to as I go on here in Gaborone.

Reasons why Gaborone is "My world turned upside-down":

1. Literally, my world is upside-down. I have never been to the Southern Hemisphere before. If you think about it, I am literally standing upside down. So when you think about me saying hello to you from here, imagine me standing on the ceiling and waving upside-down from 9000 miles away…that oughta be about right.
   
2. It is WINTER here. Sun setting at 5:30, stores closed by then, and pitch black by 6:30. And it's seriously like 10 degrees in the morning (no really, they use Celsius here…9/5C + 32 = F). Don't use a calculator, it's cheating.
   
3. Light switches…yeah, flip them down to turn on the light…again, upside-down
   
4. They drive on the LEFT side of the road. And they pass on the right! Crazy…
   
5. Lastly, the center lines of the road…yep, they're white. And the lines on the shoulder…of couse they are yellow! Wouldn't have it any other way.:-P
   

That's it for now. Time for my first weekend night in Gaborone. After the outdoor concert at the Hotel kept me awake last night for a bit, I am ready to see what this city has to offer…or at least I'll see a movie:-P

Botswana hear a story?

The following is an excerpt from an email that I sent to my wife and son to update them on my goings-on in Gaborone, Botswana while on an away rotation at the Baylor pediatric AIDS clinic here.

The gushy stuff has been removed...if you've got a problem with that, then go get your own gushy person, and if you already have a gushy person, then:

1) You like gushy too much, and you need to live a live with a healthy balance of gushy, gore-y, heartwarming, inspiring, religious, scary, and happy

2) You have nothing better to do and are living in a house without internet connection, phone, cell phone, or other connection to the outside world other than if you set the alarm off for too long and the security guys come to make sure you are okay...

(oh wait, that's my house);

3) You have a psychiatric problem, and I'm going into pediatrics...sorry, you'll have to be referred to another physician-to-be...

Sorry no pictures as of now...the internet is WAAAAY to slow to try that in the current time allotted.

Without further ado, the first Botswana blog entry...and don't worry, I'm hooked, so there will be more:

Thursday, August 5, 2010 5:00 PM (GST: Gaborone Standard Time)

Hey babe!

Yes I'm sorry I wasn't able to get online before we left this morning.
I overslept a bit and when I got here I was supposed to meet a person
who I hadn't met before and didn't know I was coming so I had to wait
outside or risk missing the doc. I am so sorry!

Right now I am in the clinic using gmail and facebook on a clinic
computer because I came over here to skype you and found out that my
electrical plug doesn't fit the ones in the clinic (plus my battery
was literally telling me I had to plug it in or it would shut down).

Since you aren't on facebook, I am hoping that that means you aren't
online and that you slept in.

Today was a very good day. I was able to go on outreach to a small
local hospital in the town of Thamaga, Botswana. It's about 48
kilometers west of here. It was soooo tiny and very low tech other
than the computer they had to keep the records on (no otoscope, TINY
room (think 8' by 12' with 6 people in it at one time), and in a
building that I am sure would not survive any category of
hurricane:-P). It was in this tiny town and I saw goats, donkeys, and
cows on the side of the road just grazing away without any fence
(remember how the cops went crazy when that cow got out on I-10...they
would have gone BANANAS). We even had to slow down once on the
highway because a goat was crossing too slowly and was gonna get hit
by our car.

The clinic, though small, was fun, and I was literally a fly on the
wall for the majority of the time, as the Doc and nurses and patient
were all speaking Setswana and no English. Then once they finished
talking the doc turned to me and essentially said it was okay for me
to do an exam, which I did as best I could. Multiply that by about 20
times and that was our day. We left about 2:30 and came back to the
clinic, and now I'm here.

As far as last night goes, I pretty much laid low. I went to Mass and
met this nice guy from Kenya who told me he had been working here for
seven years but was out of work. Just as I was about to conclude that
he wanted money, he asked me if I would take his information and ask
around to see if there were any electrical engineering jobs in the
U.S. and that he wasn't asking for money, just for help if I could.
He was super nice and I'm sure I'll see him again at Mass.

Oh, and the "God is always present" moment from yesterday...right
after Mass the people stayed and prayed a Novena that lasted about 20
minutes. It was a Novena tooooooooooooooooooooo....


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.....
.....wait for it...


Now guess....

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You're right! Our Lady of Perpetual Help [the feast day of our

anniversary]! It was awesome! And, it was super long...I was

trying to say evening prayer and so I stopped
for the Novena...it was so super intense in its length that I almost
got upset because it was getting dark and I wanted to get to some
errands before the stores closed. In any case, it was a great novena
that I want to find.

After Mass/Novena/meeting Vincent the Electrical Engineer from Kenya,
I walked across the street to "Main Mall" and though nothing else was
open, the grocery store was! It took me a while to shop (you know how
I am) especially since it was in a store in Botswana. However, after
a few trips down the aisles, an encounter with a fresh loaf of white
bread and a self-service bread loaf slicer that was almost disastrous
(for the bread, not for me), and a return trip to the produce
department (which was literally about twenty feet long and ten feet
wide), I was set. So you have to understand, I spent sooo much effort going
throughout the store trying to not squish my bread in the basket. I
first off almost dropped the bread when trying to put in into the bag
after slicing it. Then after grabbing some noodles, some produce, and
a some cereal I readjusted tbe bag so that the bread would be on top.
Picture me with the basket on the floor of the back of the store,
taking things out and rearranging while trying ever so carefully not
to squish the fresh bread. In any case, after all this I go up to the
checkout and as the lady is checking me out the other lady puts the
bread into a bag with THE VEGETABLES! WHY?!!?! I was heartbroken.
However, after checking out I walked out of the store and assessed the
damage. The bread was actually fine, but I assure you it was being
eyed by those tomatoes and onions and it was not going to last long.
In any case, I stopped in the middle of this dark shopping area to
take the bread out, rearrange the milk and produce with one hand, and
then finally got to put my bread in next to my box of Corn Flakes,
safe and sound. Content, I began my journey and walked all the way
home with my two bags of groceries and my backpack on my back (I'd say
it was about a mile+-ish. It was a bit of a longer trek with so much
cargo, but I made it home without squishing the bread! And the milk
was still cold!

So after all of this, I put everything away and was thinking about
walking out to the Mall to see Inception. However, my roommate came
home and started talking to me about this terrible restaurant she had
been too, and by the time we finished talking it was only about 30
minutes till showtime. I thought it better anyway as I had had my
fill of walking for the night, so I told myself. Instead, I listened
to a bunch of Nickel Creek music and cooked some eggs from the store
(oh yeah! I didn't crack the fresh eggs either...go me!) with onions
and bell pepper and fresh unsquished white bread on the side. It was
yummy... Then I read a bit and was falling asleep on the couch so I
went to bed...:-)

Man, now that I think about it, I should have taken pictures of the
whole ordeal...I guess I probably would have needed a third hand
though...otherwise, the bread would have been squished for sure, and
you know how I feel about squished bread.:-)

Whew!

That was some email. I hope you enjoyed my update of everything since
yesterday at lunch! I hope the length and detail makes up for my lack
of Skype-presence this morning. I love youand can't wait to
see you and John-Paul again. I don't know if I will be able to get
online later tonight, but tomorrow morning (12:30 AM your time) should
be a go if you would like. We can also just wait till you wake up on
Friday. Just let me know.

Also good news, I should be getting the cell phone tomorrow! Wahoo!
I love you and please pray for me so that I can do my best to be
giving and patient with the kiddos and loving toward the people here.
It's so easy to assume the worst about someone when you are in an
unfamiliar place and dont' know anyone. I've found that a simple
hello turns a person who I am afraid of into a friendly passer-by.

I love you and want to here about anything that is new with you
(though it need not be this long) and how to pray for you and
John-Paul! God bless you babe and baby!

In Christ,
Chris and Daddy.

P.S. Please forgive any typos, I decided to spend more time typing and
less time editing to enhance the detail of your reading experience.

Does anybody really know what time it is?

The time-flying train continues and the brakes are out!

It's only been a few days since our last post, but so much has happened since. To start off, John-Paul had a wonderful visit from Aunt Melissa and a play-date with her niece Theresa Marie. Not to worry, anyone, I told him that he can have play-dates and still become a priest later. I cleared it with Benny-16 prior to the visit...


John-Paul showed his mommy and daddy that he's grown up enough for a babysitter TWICE! This past Thursday, the lovely Schroders came over and watched our little guy while we were able to go out and have a wonderful evening away from home just like old times: Pappasito's, the Chocolate Bar for dessert, and even playing darts a la our first "date." Of course, the evening wasn't without a couple comments along the lines of "Do you think John-Paul made a poopie diaper for Miss Les yet?", but other than that it was the good old days (which of course I will quickly point out that we now live in the new BETTER days:-D). John-Paul ate his EBM (you'll have to look it up) that Mommy made for him, slept beautifully, and even let his babysitters give him a bath! What an agreeable young fellow!


Only two days later Miss Jodie came and watched our little guy with the same result. This time Mommy and Daddy were able to go with GrandBert and the Schroders to The Woodlands for the Doobie Brothers/Chicago concert. This was especially good for Daddy, as he was super bummed about the US losing in the World Cup earlier that day. The concert was wonderful, and Daddy decided that he needed to pass along the wonderful music of Chicago to John-Paul (and maybe some Doobie Brothers as well, but Chicago definitely was the best of the night!). We returned to find our little guy all sleep and sound. Sometimes I wonder if he even notices when we're gone!:-P


We topped off the extended weekend with two days of celebration and two "birthdays". As we informed John-Paul, on Sunday Mommy and Daddy turned one year old! We all decided to celebrate as a family, and went shopping together in the afternoon to buy groceries for a wonderful anniversary feast! We decided we could have a lot more fun at home, and so made an appetizer, main course, and dessert, each with their own wine "pairing" (ie we picked a wine that we though would probably taste good with the food we'd be eating and had some).


It was a wonderful time as Mommy and Daddy had a candlelit dinner as John-Paul watched (read "slept) from his seat of honor (read "baby swing") at the head of the table.


Three courses, one feeding, and a diaper change later, we topped it all off with our year old wedding cake top! Daddy was afraid as it had only been in a box (ie no plastic wrap, foil, etc) in a freezer for a whole year, but to our surprise the cake was perfectly fine (though the outer icing was kinda just frozen and hard and therefore somewhat nasty). It was delicious, and now that it's been a few days, I can attest that it didn't make any of us sick let alone keel over! So of course, we decided that since we couldn't possibly eat all of the top of the cake we would just freeze the leftovers for another year and hope for the best! Just kidding!


Finally the very next day was a day that really snuck up on us! John-Paul Padraig turned one MONTH old. Unbelievable! In the past month, he's gained 3 pounds, 2 ounces over his birth weight. He now looks straight at you, will contemplate while regarding your face, and even has come to smile regularly (read at least once a day). He is now sleeping through the night, eating well during the day, and has yet to make Mommy or Daddy leave Mass because of crying. He's graduated from his size extra-small cloth diapers to size small. Finally, he's even trying to coo, and I promise you he's trying to talk to us! Never did I think I'd sit in front of a baby repeating "Oh!" every five seconds trying to get him to repeat after me, but he's done it before so I keep on trying. You can tell by looking at his face that he's forming his mouth to say "Oh!" too, but only gets the air past his vocal cords every once in a while. It's amazing!



In any case, we spent the day celebrating with a trip to the museum and the park! We had a wonderful time, but I'll have to tell you more about it later! John-Paul is waking up as he sleeps here on a blanket in the living room, and I think maybe he has a present for me...



I love being a daddy!:-)

Now I get it...

He is growing up so fast!

I'm sure we've all heard the phrase, "They grow up so fast!" And surely, we all think we know what it means, but after watching a baby grow for the first three and a half weeks I would submit that it's full meaning isn't completely grasped until you watch your own child (or daily care for a child at least). It's hard to truly explain...

A friend of mine recently asked me, "Don't you find yourself realizing that you are learning new things about how to be a dad all the time?" And I really kind of had to say no....it isn't that I'm not learning new things all the time, but I certainly am not realizing it. As I explained to him, it's not so much that I sit and think "Wow, this is what I learned today!" Instead, new things just kind of come up...we've never given a baby a bath before, we've never changed and managed cloth diapers, we've never taken a baby to Mass...and we just kinda figure it out as we go along. Each day is slightly different and new, and before you know it almost a month is gone!

And I think that's kind of what happens with kids growing up so fast...you see them every day, and you are just kind of on this escalator towards your own child reaching a month, two months, a year, 18 years...and you have no control over the speed at which it moves. You see them every day, and each day they are slightly different, but before you know it you look back down at the bottom of the stairs and see how far they've come! You look at a child and realize that he is strikingly different from when you started! Just take a look:

Day 3:

Day 26:

And if you've been able to see him and play with him in person, you'd be even more surprised! He is so aware, much more interactive, and has even smiled a few times! One of these days we'll capture it on camera, but until then you'll have to take my word for it...

Just as a parting and somewhat unrelated note: John' Paul's Current Favorites:

• Mommy
• Window Blinds
• Our CDs on the bookshelf next to where he has floor time
• Alternating light and dark (based on the two above, we figure this is pretty true
• Patterns, particularly the one on our couch...many times we think he is looking at us but he's really staring behind our faces at the couch!
• FACES! Recently he actually has started looking right at us, pensive facial expression ready to go
• Bath time!!! It was shocking to me, but John-Paul Padraig had his last bath without ANY crying, and he actually seemed to enjoy it! This was reinforced by the fact that he started to cry as soon as we took him out to dry him off...what a big guy!

Okay that's all folks...I've gotta go start picking out a used car for his 16th birthday...heaven knows it'll be here before we know it!

"Welcome to Baby-Land!"

...first off, ten points to anyone who can tell me the source of the above quote...No google-cheating!!!

Well, it's been about two weeks, and already its become clear that it's hard to imagine our lives any other way. Its truly hard to imagine John-Paul not being here, or even to think about the fact that Ali was pregnant just two short weeks ago. It seems like so long ago already!

And it's starting to show! Already the pictures are being compared, and our dear son does not look quite the same as he did when he was born! He is...gulp...growing up! Literally! After we spent the first two weeks worrying about whether our not he was eating enough and feeling guilty when our little guy slept for five hours during the night, we found out at our appointment on Thursday that our little Padraig had gained 13 ounces in just 9 days! He now weighs in at 8 pounds and 8 ounces, and surpassed his birth weight by about half a pound! What a big boy:-)

Speaking of doctor's appointments, we are truly BLESSED when it comes to our pediatrician, Dr. William Hogan. He is a devout Catholic, great proponent of NFP, and single member of Opus Dei. It was such an awesome blessing when we found him listed on www.onemoresoul.com under the Pro-Life Physician directory. He is a great, patient physician and it is wonderful to know that he is always open to questions/concerns and will be a partner with us in raising our little guy to serve Christ and the Church. Plus, his office is only a mile away from our apartment! We literally walked out our apartment door ten minutes before our appointment and made it on time to the office!

Indeed our little guy is growing up. His umbilical cord is LONG gone, and that meant the beginning of every baby's favorite hobby: bathtime! John-Paul's first bath was quite the event, and not one to be forgotten anytime soon. Ali and I placed him in his tub chair/apparatus/thing, and soon after I asked for a washcloth to cover him up and protect us from any projectile baby urine. No sooner had the washcloth been put on him did John-Paul express his displeasure with the bath by practicing his micturition. We found the tinkling sound and his look of relief quite amusing. However, he was far from done as just seconds later he tooted (as he always does), soiling his bath chair....silly boy!


In the end, we got him washed, cleaned, and comforted after being wrapped in is cute little baby hoodie-towl and dried off. This of course meant it was time for the obligatory end-of-first-bath picture! Ali held John-Paul, I framed the shot and said "Ready, smile! 1, 2, 3!" What we expected was the following picture (which was our second take, by the way).


What we got instead was the following...


That shock you see on Ali's face is totally legitimate and not at all staged. As I said "Ready 1...2..." Just before the 3 and click of the camera John-Paul tooted/pooped in his little towel right under where Ali's hand was supporting his little bottom. Fortunately the towel was in between, but the result was something we'll never forget! Amazing....

And I think that about sums it all up in one experience...John-Paul gave us something that surprised us, shocked us, surely wasn't planned, made us do a little extra work, but made us smile and surely gave us an experience we wouldn't ever change for a million dollars. "Welcome to Baby-Land!"

John-Paul the Babe!

So I knew it would happen...I'd start a blog and I'd never get around to actually doing anything with it. But now I have the best reason in the world to keep it up-to-date...





...and his name is John-Paul Padraig Neumann. He was born on May 28, 2010, weighing in at a rugged 8 pounds 11 ounces, measuring a towering 20.75 inches, and instantaneously stealing hearts and becoming the son of the proudest papa in the world and THE proudest member of the Fightin' Texas Aggie Class of 2032! Whoop!

No, he's not named after the silly Beatles, and no, his brother's name will NOT be George Ringo...

He's named after Blessed John Paul II, soon to be Saint John Paul the Great. And if you thought that Padraig was just added because I liked the name and wouldn't shut up about it...well, you're kinda right, but it also very nicely gives our wonderful son the initials JPP, or JP2. And we honestly did not know his name long ago, deciding to keep it secret from the world for months on end...his name only came up for the first time about 2 weeks before his birth, and only hours before he was born did we decide that we would be blessed with such a wonderful name for our firstborn.

The entire process was INCREDIBLE. Ali was amazing, offering up more pain and striving to draw closer to Christ in His Passion than I am sure I could have. And then God blessed us with the decision to get an epidural, which I truly believe brought our son safely into the world. The tension with each contraction was so great that I think any dilation was becoming impeded, and once the medication too effect at about 4 PM Ali became so relaxed that John-Paul was born within 90 minutes. Had that not taken place, I'm fairly sure the dilation would have halted and we would have had a C-section on our hands. What a blessing and proof that God has a plan for everything.


And why should Ali and I have ever had any reason to think otherwise? When Ali and I began preparing for marriage, we knew that God had called us to take Natural Family Planning (NFP) classes so that we could trust HIM with His plan for our family. Little did we know that when we did so, we would have a teacher who would suggest that in addition to the method we were learning, Ali should take her basal body temperature (BBT) each morning. Further, we were blessed later with the need to visit an endocrinologist before our wedding because of some things we discovered using NFP.

Well, fast forward to September of last year, when Ali's BBT was up for about two weeks straight. Three pregnancy tests later, we were calling an OB to schedule an appointment, who told us not to worry for the first two months and to call back then. Maternally inspired, Ali simply called our endocrinologist just to see if he had any suggestions. Sure enough, he brought us in, ran some tests, and noticed that Ali's progesterone was FAR too low. He put her on these awful tasting progesterone lozenges, which Ali needed to prevent losing the baby. So had God not called us to NFP, we never would have known we needed to take our temperature each morning, we never would have gone to see an endocrinologist who ended up truly being our first amazing obstetrician, we never would have been given those awful lozenges, and....









...this amazing little guy might never have brought such joy and peace to our world.:-)