This is just a paltry selection of the plethora of faces which little Rowan can make, from the dour to the silly, the shocked to the downright pathetic. A whole host of emotions flood through his little cheeks, make his
...that's how long it took for Rowan to finally poop. Being silly, first-time parents, we took him to the doctor after he didn't poop for 48 hours. The doctor, a terrific man who likes to avoid interventions whenever possible, told us not to worry and to call him back in a week if he still wasn't pooping. At 6:00AM on the day of our official wedding anniversary, Rowan unleashed a series of slow but deliberate bowel movements just before we were going to put on a new diaper. We could not have been luckier or more proud. The picture here shows Rowan's poopy face, a demeanor he assumes just before lift-off, as it were, with uncanny precision. Notice the pursed lips, the concentrated, slightly crossed eyes, and the tucked in chin, all of which come together to say, "I have to poopy soooo baaaaad!"
Rowan's first full-fledged bath proved to be rather uneventful, possibly due to the fact that he was half asleep at the time. In the picture to the left, he actually seems to be enjoying it. We avoided using soap since, frankly, he just wasn't that dirty, and his skin is still a little sensitive. Rowan also made a new friend--Froggy the washcloth. Coming soon...an expose on his latest friend, Mr. Ball, a round object of black, white and red that jingles softly when pleased.
'Neath the umbrage of a giant hackberry tree in mid-summer, mother and son shade themselves from the sun's harmful rays. It's their first day outside in almost a week. Baby's sporting a sleek panda outfit made from bamboo fiber, while Mom looks very chic in a lavender button-tee. Mom is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed; baby is conked. In my mind, I can't really decide which one is cuter. Apples and oranges...
At week one, Rowan achieved his first (though perhaps not his last) double chin. Having already gained back all of his weight plus another 12 ounces, he's a very healthy boy, guzzling milk by the gallon and burping like its going out of style. Here, you can see him sporting his skin-tight polka-dot outfit, the one we picked out for him to wear home from the hospital, realizing only at that moment that it was a little small for him. Then he pooped on it.
Of course, little Rowan would be nowhere without Mom and Dad. Being at one's beck and call 24/7 takes its toll, but it's all worth it for those special moments when you realize--I'm a parent.
...and Rowan is slowly starting to come into his own. This picture is still pre-sponge bath, but look at that face! He poops at a 3rd grade level, likes to grab hold of things for a few seconds, and is doing very well with his brief moments of tummy time. Here, he's marvelling at Po-Po's (Winnie's mom's) cantonese.
Sometimes life...even at the beginning...is so damn hard. Here's little Rowan fresh out of the womb, just cleaned and a bit unhappy after receiving his vitamin K shot. Just wait until he gets the hep-B and blood tests...
Many of you have been wondering how we chose the name for our little boy. I'm here to explain it as briefly as possible:
