On Bad Luck and Breast Feeding

I have had my share of bad days, but the past four have been dazzling!

Tuesday

While bouncing gracefully down the stars, my toes collided with the faux marble thus allowing my ankle to the be twisted! Hooray for limping. That night I purchased a bike.

>Wednesday

This day saw the inaugurational ride down the big hill from my apartment. Upon trying to avoid a parked car, I attempted to hop a driveway curb and continue forward. Tire met curb and I fly over with a handlebar landing squarely into my right thigh and my entire left side landing squarely into pavement. Bloody holes abound, I then leave my weekend bag on the train. While trying to get it, I've had to run - well, hobble quickly - up and down stairs several times. At least it was found.

My Pouty Elbow	My Paisley Knee

Thursday

In trying to take care of my son, and let my wife sleep as much as I possibly could, I drove myself so insane that I lost control a bit. Many tears and depressing thoughts flew through and out of my head.

Friday

My brand-new bike's been stolen. Huzzah!

On Breastfeeding

Today, as my wife was driving me to the station to head back to the apartment that's oh so far away, something terrible happened to her, though she did not know it then.

Due to the medication that she must take, my wife is not allowed to breastfeed. This broke her heart, but she moved on, as she knew that it was best that she take the medication, for everyone.

While at the train station, my mother-in-law had my son breastfed by my sister-in-law. There was no exchange of permission. My wife only found out upon her return. She was crushed. Absolutely. One of her greatest struggles with raising our child was the fact that she couldn't, and now, her want has been completely ripped from her. The very question of motherhood and indeed womanhood flashed before her eyes.

My wife, saddened yet unable to change this has forgiven and moved on. She's a better person than I. I am still completely livid by this gross slap in the face. It isn't even my body involved, but this is injustice, and I'm not sure if I will ever be as noble as my wife on this subject.

On Babies and Table Tennis

Hooray for a crazy smiling babies! Although, I'm sure that it wasn't intentional as he is only three weeks. It's still mutha f@#*in' cute though!

Last week, we had the pleasure of being introduced to his French's mustard-type poo. If you think I'm joking in the slightest...fired. Pack your crap and go. Same color. Same consistency. I was thinking of tossing some lettuce, tomato and a veggie burger on that thing, call it dinner. EWWWWWwwwww....!

We also took a trip to the hospital with him as well. It was the first time we were outside together as a family, ever. The umbilical cord fell off a while ago, but apparently, the belly button wasn't fully healed so we had to take a little visit to the nurses. Being there's a doctor shortage here, you're sure to hardly ever see one. Only nurses.

TODAY
Today, as I was late, I was running. Fast. Running down some stairs, I managed to twist my ankle. This did not, however, stop me from playing two hours of ping pong with my co-worker Ben. He's from Canada. Canadian is he.

I have realized, that after two years of not even touching a racket, I suck. Again. I was never really that good, but this is my sport! It took a while, but during the last ten minutes, it all started to come back. Happy is me!

I also got a bike today. No more being late. Well...

Moving Baby Pictures? Preposterous!

More Moving Baby!

Video! Of BABY!

Some Baby...

Here's Nolan within his first two weeks as a human being. A jelly Bean sized Human Being. Here are Eight pictures from the wondrous cellphone cameras.

Dear Sleep...

...THANKS FOR MAKING ME LATE

Last night, as I laid down in bed for some much needed sleep, I noticed that several hours had gone by. I was still not asleep. Not only that, but because I came home late that night (and I don't like to eat on late nights home), my stomach was rumbling and my heart was pouding like crazy. After playing a few rounds of Call of Duty 4 on my XBox - hoping that it would knock me out, I tried the whole sleep thing again. Nothing. A Brilliant Idea came to mind...

EXERCISE! After doing about fifty sit-ups in bed and twenty push-ups, I rapidly became tired and at around four, my eyes finally began to droop and I was quickly out.

My alarm rang.
I reset it and back to bed.

My phone alarms went off.
More resetting.

8:40 comes. I leave at 8:35.
8:40!!!!!!!!

Ten minutes later, fully dressed in some raggedy, un-ironed, days-old clothes, I bolt out the door and make my twenty-minute walk to the station into a ten-minute, side-splitting, lung-suffocating run.

I want to die.
Still.

But after this becoming a common occurance, my thighs and calves are AWESOME to the MAX!

When's Daddy Going to Visit?

Wednesday night through Friday was my weekend with the kid, and his mom, my wife. I can understand what is meant by kiss your time and sleep goodbye when it comes to babies - and I only got a taste.

Despite being generally a quite, brooding baby, Nolan does have his fits. He gets squeally every couple of hours when it's time for food. Not bad, though. Just some 'NNNNNGGGGG'ing.

He was crying his fair bit when he was naked and cold during bathtime and the diaper change. However, he really likes to belt it out when he regurgitates his milk, a common occurrence with him. But I can't complain too much. I just felt like a zombie when waking up for the third time at night/in the morning to feed and change him.

Meg's friends Keiko and Kaori came for an afternoon of delights with their very own squirts, Momo and Yuta, respectively.

And so the commuting begins...

PRISON CELL

Well, the ordeal of pregnancy is finished.
Or, is it?
Well, actually, no, it isn't.

There's a lame custom here that most adhere to.
It is simply this:

For the first month of the newborn baby's life, both he/she and his/her's mother must stay confined to the house.

That means, no shopping, no movie renting, no walks, no fresh air, no breathing at all. I know one thing for sure, my wife will kill everyone while stir crazy.

This also means that she is staying in her hometown, three hours away. That means I see my son only once a week, and I have to spend ungodly money to go see him and my wife. She's already been gone for a month.

GHOST TOWN
Yes, a whole month already, and I miss her, AND Nolan desperately. And every time I walk through my apartment, I am reminded why we chose this place. It would be a decent place to raise a kid.

So here I am, lonely and surround by reminders of my wife and child.
There's the crib. *sigh*
There's the stroller. *sigh*
There are the pictures. *collapse*

Anyway, tomorrow's my first weekend with the squirt.

I feel like a divorced dad.

Herald the Big-Handed Messiah!

Nine long, complicated months have resulted in this.

A squirt.

We went from hospital to hospital. Refused at each one. There was no room at the inn...
...for a woman with stress disorders.
(In a land where I'm sure 90% of the people have some sort of stress disorder, you would think that one in ten hospitals would be willing to take her.)

Luckily, after all the rejection and tears came the Hyogo teaching hospital. They, our good Samaritans, helped out - at nearly twice the price. Sweet!

We were forced to go back to Meg's hometown where there are only two hospitals, one of which that seems to be closed most of the time.

Shock...

Sunday, the 4th of May rolled around. Watching TV. "Ooh. My water's broke." Um, ok.

Three days later. "Ooh. My contractions have started." Alright.
With no one involved have any sleep in over a day, the Blessed One's arrival seemed all too normal.

Seven hours of pain. "Ooh. There's the Baby." Hooray! All my hard work is finally finished. Be not tired, m'lady, for it was my hands that you have crushed.

...and Awwww!

On Thursday, May 7th, at 5:46 in the morning, a slightly cranky, pink flesh-creature was born. His name, you ask. Nolan Rio Napolitano, of 3315 grams!