Grabby Grabby!

The day has come where Henry's arms and hands are not completely mindless appendages. When we brought him home from the hospital, arms sprawled and curled up randomly. This is no longer true. Most of the arm movement is still relatively random, except that those arms simply detest being covered up. Ole Swaddly Joe does not like his arms in the bundle, they gotta breath, man!

Those hands, though ... they resemble Venus Flytraps. They just hang out, looking cute. You know, baby hands, right? Wrong. If anything gets close to them, they're doomed. Here are a couple stories ...

Henry found his own hair a couple of days ago. His hands meandered up to his hair, the Flytraps detected something, and they latched on. As we all know, pulling hair is not cool .. it hurts! So Henry got upset, which just made the Flytraps latch on harder. Pull harder ... get madder ... pull harder ... what a tragedy! It took two grown adults working together to pull Henry away from, well, Henry.

The very next day, the young lad got me in a double death grip. We were just goofing around and I got my face too close to the Flytraps (I should know better, right?). One latched on to my nostrils, and the other gripped furiously onto my bottom lip. We hung out there for a couple of minutes ... that's when I didn't think it was cute anymore.

As a sidenote, he also got a handful of my chest hair. Don't worry, all hairs in the incident are still attached, present and accounted for.

Isn't this kid cool?

I wanted to make sure that you all got your baby fix today, and got to see the latest Henry pic. This was taken about three hours ago. Henry really digs this toy (thank you Steve and Bonnie -- I think), and will chill out with all of his Baby Einstein friends for quite a while. This is a big deal, because this baby doesn't like to do two things:

• Sleep
• Sit still and hang out quietly

He likes moving it, and moving it, and moving it well. He digs on taking laps through the house, bouncing on beds, or anything else that is kinetic. He does not like things that hold him in place. Like Daddy trying to take a nap, or laying him down to do the same. These things need to be finessed with Prince Henry (pronounced on-REE). This magic carpet seems to do the trick (for now, anyway), which is music to his parents' ears.

NEWSFLASH: I have been talking to Henry quite a bit about writing his first blog entry, and he has relented. His thought now is that if he could write most of you letters while still in the womb, what's stopping him from blogging now? Also, Sarah may be convinced to blog. Maybe you guys want to hear a couple other viewpoints about how this new family thing is going?

Vital statistics (seriously, these are the only ones that count)

I wanted to let everyone know a couple of Henry's vital statistics after week 3.

Longest sleep time overnight: 6 HOURS!! Yeah! Seriously, this dude has us trained to be escstatic about almost getting a good night's sleep. How did that happen? We think he is falling into the bad habit of only sleeping well if he's with one of us. When we put him down, it's only a matter of time until he starts fussing. And it's not a lot of time.

Weight: Somewhere around 9.5 pounds. This one is hard to calculate, because we have to do it by me standing on the scale, remembering how much I weigh, then having Sarah give me the dude before the digital readout goes out on the scale.

Cute faces: Uh, I stopped counting at somewhere around 3,355,789. I'm a little biased, but if you've met the dude, you'd agree. And if you don't agree, you should probably ... uh, I'll keep it clean (it is a family blog).

Number of meals per day: Around 37. OK, that's an exaggeration, but this little guy can eat. He is getting quite the chubby little Rayo face. His cheeks are starting to approach what his uncle Bryan's cheeks looked like at his age. I'll get you a picture tomorrow.

That's about it. Shoot me a comment if there's anything in particular that you'd like to know about our oft-crying cherub.

Do we take him to the game?

Time to vote!

Before Henry was born, we bought OSU football season tickets, and we bough the Texas game. We bought this unborn baby an outfit for the Texas game, and had our minds set that this baby would see his first football game before he was able to, well, see the football game!

This idea doesn't sound like a slam dunk anymore. We do have a Baby Bjorn, and he digs it ... usually falls asleep or just hangs out for an hour or more. We know that going to a Big Ten game is not an orthodox thing to do with a 2 month old baby, but we're not all that orthodox, anyway.

So, send your comment, your rant, or whatever. Is this so crazy that it just ... might ... work, or is it just crazy Belleview crazy (a.k.a. crazy Children's Services crazy).

Ah, let the child controversies begin!

Happy anniversary to us!

Sorry to all you Henry picture lovers, but last night was chock full of busy-ness. Sarah and I celebrated out third anniversary by willing ourselves out of the house, eating at a fantastic organic restaurant called North Star, and finishing it up with the world Graetest ice cream (that's right, we made it to Graeter's).

Henry was our guest of honor. He did very well. He was awake most of the time, but didn't meltdown until our ice cream cones were finished. Then, since the Henry eruption was imminent, we snapped him up and busted home. Then some Henry dinner (the 9:00 PM installment of dinner) was served up, and the evening was over.

This anniversary was our first glimpse of how things are going to be different. We eaked out all the anniversary we could, and it was great. But it wasn't nearly as important to us as our first two anniversaries. Nor should it be. Not for us, anyway. Henry is Numero Uno now. Little trivia tidbit: Henry means Head of the Household. Seriously. And he sure is.

Newsflash: I added some more pictures to Henry's photo album on Yahoo! Photos. Click on the link on the left or click here.

Also, please send your good Henry pictures to hepcatrayo@yahoo.com, and I'll post them on the blog as well. I know for sure that Henry's grandparents have some good pics, and I'm still looking for the picture of us at Molly's wedding from Mr. Brian George Dershaw. I'll cut him some slack, though, because he may be at the hospital right now meeting his first child for the first time.

Real Bath (whew! he likes it!)

Mr. Henry got to take his first honest-to-goodness, soak me in the water, pour some over my head, feel that warm water goodness bath this evening. For most of it, he was very peaceful (see top picture). Hanging out, giving us some baby babble ... just chillin'.

Then we washed his head, and all hell broke loose. See Exhibit B at right.

We got him toweled off, and put in his super-cool robe (legend tells that his Grandpa Thornburg picked it out), and he was back to being cool as cool can be.

And he smells squeaky clean baby sweet!

Where Did Daddy Go?

This is the image I left as I gathered my things and trudged off to work. Two weeks off went by in a blink. Amazingly, Henry didn't seem to grasp the gravity of the situation as I left.

Work was OK today, I suppose. About 300 million people came by my desk, so I didn't really have a chance to do much work. Oops. Nobody from Cardinal Health is reading this blog, are you? If so, please translate this paragraph as: "Wow, I couldn't believe how productive I was, and that I could work so many hours in a row, and how happy I could be returning to work."

I didn't feel as bad about leaving home as I thought I would, and the feelings of abandoning my family, while palpable, were not overwhelming. Which made me feel a little guilty. I'm assuming that the roller coaster of parenting emotions don't really get any better anytime soon.

I did, however, return home to a very tired Sarah and a very active Henry. He has taken to the daytime, and was quite awake for most of the afternoon and evening. Because he is wide awake after most feedings, there is much less down time between feedings, which means that we will be a little less rested. Tomorrow we will try to give him a real bath for the first time, as his bellybutton should have dried all the goop (that's a clinical term) that was left after the umbilical cord fell off last week. Maybe that will do the trick for beddie-bye time.

Anyway, Day 1 of Michael working, Sarah holding down the fort is now behind us, and the family survived. Whew!!!

Big weekend ...

(this part was written Saturday night)

Henry, who is fussing in his crib (not crying, just fussing) has had quite a weekend. Some more friends have come to see him from out of town, which shouldn't be surprising by this point. Everyone digs on the Henry, and they come from miles around to see the babe.

In addition to this, though, Henry has attended his first wedding (congratulations Molly and Ben!) and his first party (thanks to the host, MattE). He was a perfect gentleman at both auspicious occasions, and wowed the crowd.

(then Henry woke up, and Daddy didn't get to finish the blog until Sunday night)

At the wedding, the bride specifically asked to see Henry. Pretty important little dude! The bridesmaids ooh'ed and aah'ed over the little guy until it was finally time for us to take our seats. The wedding ceremony was beautiful, and the music was incredible, but I just stared at Henry the whole time. Big Daddy Dershaw sat with us ... hey Brian, could you email us the picture you snapped of us in the pew? I'll add it to this post. After the wedding, I went solo to the reception, abandoning my family. I didn't stay very long.

Anyway, the important part was that HENRY WAS AWESOME THE WHOLE WEDDING. Perfect angel.

He was just as perfect at the party the next evening. Henry crashed MattE's party and totally stole the show again. We were hooked up in the Baby Bjorn (I'll include pictures of that soon) and he was chill the entire time. Momma got some mediterranean appetizers, and Dad got a brat and a burger. Mmmmm good.

More on the exploits of Henry tomorrow. And I'll have another picture, all you grandmas and grandpas out there.

Henry's first trip to the doctor

Another first is now behind us. Henry has been given a clean bill of health by our selected healthcare provider. Actually, our pediatrician is out on injured reserve, so they had to call up a replacement from the minors. Just kidding, doc. Dr. Forsythe was filling in for Dr. Williams (no relation to Hot Rod, Hot Plate, or Hot Sauce Williams) for this visit.

I was very excited for this visit until I started to think about shots. What parent wants to see their child being poked and prodded with a bunch of needles? Would he cry? Would he wail? Would he take a swing at the doctor? Would I wail?

It turns out I won't find out for a while, because there were no vaccinations today. The doc checked some things, asked us if we had any questions, and sent us on our way. All in all, it was a pretty uneventful trip, which is what I was hoping for in the first place! Stay tuned for accounts of his 2 month checkup, where there will be vaccinations. Oh, the humanity!

Oh My God He ... oh, I guess he's fine!

Thankfully, parent freak out number one is now behind us. About 30 seconds after this picture was snapped, Henry let out three gigantic burbs that sounded more like him hacking up a hairball. At least I thought they were burps. Sarah, who had a birds-eye view of the whole thing, saw Henry's panicked face and the fact that he stopped breathing for a couple moments.
I didn't see Henry's panicked face, but I sure saw Sarah's.

Right after these "burps", Henry shut his eyes and wouldn't open them for what seemed like an eternity. We moved his arms, his legs, talked to him ... nothing. I snapped him up really quick (editor's note: Daddy Michael made sure to support Henry's head) and his eyes fluttered open. He wasn't dead! He wasn't dead!

It's amazing how two rational, intelligent (dashing, charismatic, etc., etc.) human beings can go to pieces in the blink of an eye, at the smallest chance that something is wrong. In our defense, Sarah's and my "panic mode" is to focus and solve the problem, then go to pieces afterward. That being said, I shudder to think what we'll go through when he spills on his bike, or falls on the steps, or starts swimming ... maybe we'll be a little calmer by then.

Whew! All is safe and sound with momma, baby, and daddy.

Say bye-bye, Henry!

The throngs of family and friends have come and gone, and we're down to a small trickle of close friends who have yet to see Henry. Sorry today's blog took so long, but our accountant just got back the numbers for us. 30 people have been shuttled in and out of our house, so Henry has had a lot of practice at his goodbye wave. He still hasn't mastered it.

Monday was the first day without all the baby fanfare, so Sarah and I are settling in to the feedings, changings, and resultant crying. Sleep is going pretty ok, which is to say that we are sleeping. It has been nice to get into our rhythm with just the three of us. It's not always smooth, but we're getting solid as a family.

That being said, we have had an enormous outpouring of family support for Henry's (and our) first week, which Sarah and I are very thankful for. Our parents have been great, our friends incredibly supportive, and even our neighbors, which we really didn't know two weeks ago, have started to come out of their shells because of this little boy. At the top of the support list is my brother Bryan and his wife Sarah. I won't embarrass them with a bunch of public praise, but they know what they did, and we really appreciate all of it.

There are a ton of others to thank, and we'll get around to it ... after our nap.

Henry' s momma

Ah ... she sleeps!

Give me but a moment to take a step back and talk not about my precious son, but about my incredible wife Sarah. She has been so strong through all of this. I absolutely adore her. We have had a ton of family come through, and she's still healing, and this schedule is horrendous for two folks that weren't accustomed to it ... and she has been simply radiant through all of it. Ok, not all of it, but all of it that you bystanders get to see. And her sense of humor is coming back. At least she says it is ...

This picture was taken on our second night with Henry. Sarah was still in quite a bit of pain, and this nap was exactly what the doctors ordered.

Now that the pain has worn off a bit, Sarah is rarin' to go. I have had to play stairs cop so that she doesn't truck up and down them all day (bad for her stitches). I'll be sitting with Henry, and I'll hear the washer or dryer start up ... which is downstairs. I'll call down to her, and get a very defiant "I feel fine ... they said I should cool it for a week." She is now planning our evening walks, which will happen every evening, thank you very much. Yoga and cardio machines are a couple weeks away ... and oh by the way, she is only 8 pounds over her pre-pregnancy weight. She's a machine, I tell you.

Bath time!

This was a very cool experience which started out with a lot of crying. Henry did not like us very much as this his first bath transpired, but I could tell that, secretly on the inside, he was enjoying himself. He was doing a great job of hiding it, though.

The camera did not catch the absolute funniest part. As Dad (that's me for all of you that are new to the blog) readied our bathing hero Henry, Mom was trying to get all of the bath acoutrements together. You know, spongy bear, washcloth, etc. While this was going on, the Fountain O' Henry went off, made an awe-inspiring arc, and splashed down to earth on our stalwart hero. Yep, he peed on himself. A lot. Luckily we were just about to bathe him.

After the crying, kicking, and other displays of general unhappiness, we whisked him up in a towel, dried him off, and held him tight. That was quite nice ... I enjoyed it immensely. You can see it for yourself ... he's a cute dude. Especially in a hooded towel.

No extended gushing this time over my little boy, but man is it great when he's all clean and full of baby goodness.

5 days, and we're still going strong ...

What, no picture on this post?

That's right ... but it's because Wednesday, July 6th, (and on into Thursday the 7th) was officially declared POOP DAY by the officials that declare such things. If you don't like reading about poop, skip this one ...

So, how many times in 2 hours do you think a newborn need a diaper change? The answer for Henry (so far) is three full bowel-defying movements. In the middle of the night. As an aside, the "middle of the night" for Henry is between 3:00 and 6:00. That's when our boy is the most, shall we say, active?

How many diapers can two incompetent new parents go through in 45 seconds? Answer: three. Trying to be overachieving parents, and realizing that poop probably doesn't feel good on a new baby's bottom, I whisked little Henry away at the first sign of movement and smell that something may be amiss. Got the diaper off, and behold ... THERE WAS POOP! Three seconds later, more poop was coming out. The diaper was off at this point, so I'm trying to play catcher at this point. Fastball down the middle. Curveball off the plate. Etcetera. I'm pretty proud of myself, get that diaper off of him, get the new one under him, and MORE POOP! Changed that diaper, got the third one on, and he was (finally) done. Whew!

That's probably enough poop talk for all of you ... send your poop story by clicking on the "Comments" link below.

So, why Henry?

Henry is the name of my grandfather. Papa Schmidt. That's him getting down with me at my wedding. I'm the dude that looks a bit like an epileptic fish. I'm 26 in this picture. He's 80. Dead serious .. he's 80. And he is keeping up with me step for step.

This dude's resume would make you weep, his parties would still drop your jaw, and his jumper ... alright, his basketball game is a bit of a weakness. He served our country as an engineer in Okinawa. But those things are not what endears him to me.

Papa is all class. He matriculated in the age of wingtips and boxer shorts (old school boxers), and he knows how to dance. He has always been a role model to me, and I love him dearly. Sarah and I have always tried to carry a little of (Gramma) Peg and Henry with us. That's them on their wedding day in 1945. Being "Peg and Henry" to us means being solid, timeless, and unforgettable. We have a very idealized view of them for sure, but you can't tell me any different about Gramma and Papa. Peg and Henry. Two peas in a pod.

I can still remember him spontaneously appearing at elementary school to pick us up and get ice cream. He has a wicked sweet tooth. He built a basketball hoop in his driveway so that Bryan and I could shoot baskets ... and he would join us. He taught us how to bowl, took us in his fishing boat (although I don't remember fishing much), and invited us into his workshop to help on numerous projects, from building balsa wood airplanes -- which flew -- to constructing a fuzzy robot that served guests drinks at his parties.

Henry is the man. My son has big shoes to fill.

I love you Papa ...

On the third day ... we rested!

This is the first day that we had Henry at home all day. Let the insomnia begin! Surprisingly, there aren't any nurses to whisk Henry off to the nursery just in the nick of time as he starts fussing. It's all us! The sleeping isn't like I thought it would be, though. It's not like we don't sleep ... it's more like we're trying to drink the ocean with a straw. You might want to catch up on your sleep by cashing out for 12 hours, but you only get a couple (if you're lucky).

So ... we nap! And nap, and nap, and nap.

I will resist the urge to gush for two more paragraphs about my son ... let me only say that having your newborn son fall asleep on your chest is a little bit of magic.

Hit me with some feedback in the comments section if there's anything about Henry that I haven't shared yet that you want to know.

Alright, back to sleep ...

Independence Day!

Car seat ... check. Dangly bug guys ... check. Shoulder harnesses ... check. Getaway vehicle ... check. Let's blow this joint. That's what Henry told me this morning.

With that, we announced our independence from Riverside Methodist Hospital. They treated us very well, but it was time to go home. Momma's doing well, Baby's doing well, and Daddy's still doting on our very tiny boy.

He peed all over the Pack 'N' Play today, but I blame Sarah ... too much Keystone Cops, not enough Nanny 911.

I added some more pictures ... click here to see them. Leave a message by clicking on "comments" below.

A Star is Born!



Our first child, a baby boy, was born yesterday. Let me be the first to introduce you to Henry Michael Rayo, who was born on July 2, 2005 at 1:42 PM.

Click here for pictures of Henry Rayo.

He took his sweet time coming into the world. We were watching the downtown fireworks on TV on Friday night when the serious contractions started. As an aside, we had thought about going to see them, but at the last minute decided against it! We's a not too bright sometimes. We busted to the hospital at around midnight, were admitted at around 1:30 AM, started the pitocin flowing at 7:30 AM, and started the serious pushing at 1:00 PM. Do the quick math ... that's almost 14 hours of labor in the hospital, and 2 - 3 (when do you start counting?) at home beforehand.

He came out Stretch Armstrong style (if you haven't witnessed this firsthand, nothing will prepare you -- promise). It was seriously one of the coolest things I've ever seen. After that I was running around crazy, hanging out with Baby Rayo (we hadn't decided on a name yet) then making sure that Sarah was OK. Sarah: Baby: Sarah: Baby. Everything else went pretty normally: bath went great, family came, and baby did a great job through the whole thing.

We named him Henry on Sunday afternoon, which cements the mind trip that is the transition to parenthood. Every time I say "my son" I get chills. I honestly feel like a charlatan. A sleight-of-hand expert that has fooled the world into believing that I am a father. From minute one, I knew he was mine (oh yeah, and Sarah's) and I would lay down in traffic for him, but I didn't feel all that different. Give me two months of insomnia to complete the transformation to "new parent."