IMR: Entries: 2002: June: 16 — Sunday, June 16, 2002

I Know I knew this Father's Day was going to be different. But I didn't expect it to start at 2 a.m. with two handfuls of partially digested cheeseburger.   Finally home together, Katie and Zac bond. Mom and Katie tend to a typically drowsy Zac. Grandma joins Katie in some carnival fun. Preparing to tackle the suspension bridge. Katie gets airborne in the castle jumper. Dad and Katie survey the fair from above. The aquarium, our first outing with Zac. Katie looks sly as a monk seal snoozes. Katie quietly studies her little brother. Katie gets a new outfit from my coworkers. Checking out "Fire It Up!" on Monsarrat. Jen and I make 'Grandfather's Day' gifts. Father's Day lunch at Tanaka of Tokyo. A surprised dad with Eathan and Todd. Jen manages to keep Zac comfortable. The boys (and Katie, who can't resist cameras). Perhaps I should start this a little further back. The last two weeks are blur. And I mean that almost literally. I'm having a hard time focusing on a single, clear picture from any moment between June 6 — the day we brought Zac home — and today, Father's Day. If it wasn't for the sporadically collected JPEGs on my digital camera card, I don't think I would been able to remember anything at all. (It doesn't help that I'm finally fleshing out this journal entry in early July.) Checking out of the hospital went about as smoothly as could be expected, especially when you consider that the process requires collecting a dozen different signatures and the completion of a checklist with perhaps fifty items on it. Finally it was time to go, and we gingerly put Zac into his car seat. Even with the optional newborn-hugging padding and "head boppy" (a.k.a. "noggin nest"), he seemed lost in it. Like a little baked potato in a La-Z-Boy. We did our best to get the five-point harness to hold him in, but it looked more silly than secure. Still, we passed the nurse's inspection, and while Jen and Zac were wheeled out (accompanied by my mom), I sprinted to the parking lot to bring the van around. The car seat — part of a massive, embarassingly pretentious designer "travel system" that I, inexplicably, had to buy more than four months ago — passed its first test with flying colors: it snapped into its base effortlessly, and popped off just as gently when we got to the apartment. If Zac had been sleeping, he wouldn't have even noticed. Sadly, he wasn't, and screamed the whole way — but at least it wasn't a 20-mile trip to Mililani like we had with Katie. It was a refreshing two-block drive, which of course I drove at ten miles below the 35 m.p.h. speed limit. As we got out of the elevator, we were surprised by a colorful handmade sign taped to our door congratulating us and welcoming Zac home. It was put there by our neighbors and friends Nicole and Martin (but signed by their baby Celeste), and made for a very special homecoming. And soon afterward, dad and Gayle stopped by with a ready-to-heat homemade lasagna dinner, complete with Caesar salad and chocolate brownies (baked by Eathan). Mom helped us unpack and get settled in, while I went to go pick up Katie, who had spent the day with Jen's mom at the Hale Koa Hotel. Eventually, with the whole family back together, mom wished us luck and headed home herself. One memory that's clearer than most from that day was this: I was sitting on the edge of our bed with Zac in my arms. I was bouncing vigorously to calm him down. Katie immediately saw the possibilities of the moment, ran over, and scrambled frantically onto my shoulders. Gripping my hair like the reigns on a bucking bronco, she squealed, "Whee!" Now struggling to bounce and balance at the same time, overwhelmed by about forty pounds of offspring, I looked up and Jen and said, "So, this is what it's like to have two kids." "Yep," she said. "Having fun?" "Yep." Indeed, one of the first observations I was compelled to share with my coworkers during one of the many calls I received while technically on vacation was, "One kid plus one kid doesn't equal two kids. It's more like six and a half kids. It's an exponential thing." And Jen and I have started saying, "We've crossed the 'Two-Kid Event Horizon,'" describing those most climactic of moments when both children are crying and fussing. Fortunately, most of the time, our natural reaction has been merely to chuckle and sigh. Though we've also been known to mutter, "What the hell were we thinking?" Sleep has been elusive. Stress levels are not incredibly high, but distractingly unstable. So after that "daddy as a multipurpose kid entertainment center" scene, my memory goes all hazy. I know that Zac is incredible. He looks more like me than I expected, which is frightening and wonderful at the same time. At his first checkup (at one week), he had gained weight, assuaging suppressed fears that he would get dehydrated like Katie did and require rehospitalization. He regularly sleeps in four-hour stretches (meaning only two feedings and changings overnight), and has snoozed comfortably for six hours at least twice. He sighs a sweet little sigh sometimes, and prefers sleeping on his stomach to his back, and can hold his head up already, and — according to Jen — is on the verge of being able to flip himself over. I know that I originally figured I'd be back at work the very next week, but soon extended my vacation to two weeks. And then, to three weeks. My infamous reluctance to take time off certainly paid off this month — I still have about a week more saved up. I know that even though I was on "vacation," my coworkers weren't entirely convinced, calling and e-mailing with questions the whole time (which I didn't really mind) and even asking me to come in three afternoons in a row to take care of an "urgent matter" (which I minded a bit). I know that I was obviously not thinking clearly when I agreed, in the midst of everything, to help manage my friend Lacene's long-shot run for the State Senate. Especially since she's running as a Republican. This new undertaking is going to take up a lot of the free time I never had, subjecting me to the taunts of my bleeding-heart liberal friends while at the same time backing up Jen's accusation that I'm a "closet conservative." (I also owe a buck to at least a dozen people who bet, against all my protestations, that I'd end up involved in politics someday.) I know that Katie, honestly, had a hard time adjusting at first, which wasn't surprising, but was still hard to watch. Much as she loved her "Nana" (who went home on June 8), she was convinced for a while that there was a conspiracy to separate her from her mom every time we went out the door. Also, while she loved having a baby brother, she was put off by the fact that infants are fragile and aren't all that much fun at first. For a while, I was afraid that the moment we turned our backs, we'd find Katie dragging Zac across the room by his head. I know that everyone was prepared in advance for the challenges Katie would face, though, which was great. Many people who gave us gifts for Zac included a little something for Katie. And we went out of our way to give Katie some special attention (and, possibly, a little extra leeway when it came to the usual rules). Mom and I took her to the carnival at Aloha Stadium one weekend, then let her pick where we went the next for our first full-family outing since Zac was born. She chose the aquarium, which was great, because they'd just unveiled their new reef exhibit the week before. I know that the aforementioned carnival was responsible for Katie's first official physical injury, when a kid in the inflatable jumper landed on her leg and twisted her ankle. We had to keep ice on it and she limped around for four days and it broke my heart, especially when one afternoon I tripped over that very same leg and she went crying to her mother. I know that Jen and I thought long and hard before deciding to re-enroll Katie in preschool for the summer. As if she hadn't had it rough enough already, it didn't take many days of her being at home with Jen and Zac for us to realize that she was going stir crazy, as Jen could neither take Katie out gallavanting like she used to, nor give Katie 100 perecent of her attention. Katie was unhappy, and her brain was starving for stimulation, and meanwhile Jen was feeling guilty and overwhelmed. Of course we felt guilty about our decision too, especially when it took over a week before Katie would go willingly. I know that it didn't take long for the first cold bug to strike the household, turning all four of us — four of us! — into sniffling, grumpy sacks of yuck at the same time. Zac couldn't sleep well, so of course, neither could we. And Katie, likely our "Mr. X," had it the worst, and early this morning threw up several times. I somehow managed to catch most of it, while at the same time talking calmly and happily to her as if we were just strolling in a park. I know that Jen, who was changing a congested and crying Zac at the time, said, "Happy Father's Day," and that just seemed the perfect thing to say just then. Fortunately, Katie's troubles seemed mostly related to getting a dose of Tylenol on an empty stomach last night, and she was well enough to enjoy today's surprise Father's Day lunch for my dad, organized by Eathan and Todd, at the Tanaka of Tokyo restaurant in Waikiki. And dad was surprised, since I think it was the first time we did something for him (rather than the other way around) for years. Perhaps ever. He'll have to wait for his gift from me, though. I made it myself (and Jen made one for her dad). We went to "Fire It Up!" on Monsarrat, one of many new pottery spots in town, and painted little Zac's feet and stamped it onto a ceramic tile. We'll get it back, all bright and shiny, today or tomorrow. And. I have no idea how I should wrap this up, but my vision's getting all blurry and I don't know how much longer it'll be before Zac wakes up and the bed has never looked so good, so I just will.

Comments heh. the 2-kid event horizon.. you are so right. having two kids doubles the kids in the house. But when you have 3 kids, in only increases by a third. By the time you add a fourth, it's only a 25% increase. :) And is it very very hard to hold onto four kids at once, especially when they start gettign bigger than you. :D —Andrea R (July 4, 2002 5:44 AM) E kala mai! Comments have been disabled due to overwhelming abuse by spammers. Please click through to any of the video hosting services linked above to leave a public response, or feel free to send an e-mail. Mahalo! < June 06 · June · July 11 > © 1997-2008 Ryan Kawailani Ozawa · E-Mail: imr@lightfantastic.org · Created: 13 November 1997 · Last Modified: 14 January 2008