Caught on Video: Mika smiles

Last night, I was telling a friend that now that I've seen Mika smile, I've been spending a lot of time trying to get her to do it more frequently. She'll give me a quick grin and then I'll spend the next 20 minutes trying to get her to do it again. Most of the time she just stares at me. It looks like she already has me wrapped around her tiny little finger.

I was lucky to get a brief grin on video. Now, when I'm unsuccessful getting her to smile at me, I can just replay a smile from last week. If you watch closely, I think she even gives us a wink. This kid knows way more than she lets on...

Mika's first Red Sox game

While the 6AM first pitch of today's Red Sox game probably didn't appeal to most of Red Sox nation, it worked out really well for Mika and I. She got a little fussy around 5:45 (probably worried about how Dice-K would perform in his return to Tokyo), so Yuki brought her out to watch the game with me. She's even wearing baseball socks for good luck.

Updated: I found some photos I took when Yuki and I watched a baseball game in the Tokyo Dome in 2005.

Thank you... I'll be here all night. Don't forget to tip your waitress

This morning I got my first smile from Mika. And it wasn't just a throw-away smile, either -- she was responding to a joke I was telling her... seriously! Finally, I have a captive audience who will appreciate my sense of humor (Yuki has gotten into the frustrating habit of giving me a stone-faced look every time I tell a joke, just to torture me).

Getting the smile wasn't easy, even though our parenting books suggested that the smiles flow like water after the third week. Not so much. So I started doing all kinds of ridiculous things to get her to smile. I tried voices, faces, and even some relatively involved physical comedy routines... nothing.

Then, as I was playing with Mika this morning, I started joking about how the local news stations have been butchering the names of locations in Tokyo as part of their coverage of the Red Sox trip to Japan. I garbled Akihabara just like the reporter did last night and she burst into a big grin. Out of the corner of my eye, I think I saw Yuki roll her eyes -- not only because my joke was marginally funny (at best), but also because she knows I'm going to be intolerable now I've realized Mika might smile at my stupid jokes.

It's pretty intense and it's 103 degrees

We recently heard from a good friend from college who apologized for being out of touch since Mika was born. While such uncaring disregard for our beautiful little girl would normally result in automatic dismissal from our "A List" of friends, she had a good excuse: she was delivering babies in Honduras. What's so special about that, you say? Well, it seems that the labor and delivery process in Honduras is just a tad bit more intense than here in the states...

According to our friend (who has mastered the art of understatement): "The women have to labor outside until they climb up onto the delivery table and push out the baby. It's pretty intense and it's 103 degrees."

I guess we'll stop complaining about how long it took the hospital's catering service to deliver our swordfish fillets to our hospital room as Yuki prepared for labor. Or that the in-room cable only had 45 channels (compared with the 375 we had at home). Or that we didn't have one of the new flat screen TVs we saw in the other delivery rooms. Yeah, we should probably stop complaining about that.

New photos uploaded

I've been slowly weeding through all of the photos we've taken of Mika. Here are two new galleries. One of them is Mika wearing a cute pink hat in her papasan chair looking cute. The other is a collection of pictures of Mika with members of her family (parents, grand parents, aunts, etc). Enjoy.

A flyweight no more

Yuki must be sneaking some raw eggs or protein powder into Mika's feedings, because she bulked up an extra pound since our last doctor's visit two weeks ago. She's closing in on 10 pounds and shows no signs of slowing down (Hachi may soon be the smallest mammal in our household). At 9 pounds, 14 ounces, I think Mika has officially moved into the baby bantamweight class.

We also learned that Mika is in the 95th percentile for height (A 95% counts as an "A," right?). While I'd love to believe my genes have something to do with it, I think it's much more likely that Mika's cone head pushed her ahead of her peers. We'll hold off on enrolling her in an infant basketball program for now...

If only she would do this at night!

When we got the last ultrasound before Mika was born, the images showed her resting her head on her hands while sleeping in Yuki's womb. On Sunday morning, she did the same thing while napping on Yuki's lap. For those ten minutes, she was the only thing in the world we cared about. More photos here.

Hachi, big boys sleep on the couch

One of the baby gifts we've been waiting to try out on Mika is a vibrating, music-playing papasan chair. (If they made these for adults, I'd happily get one. It's basically a Barca lounger with a massager and built in stereo.) You pop the kid in, turn it on, and they happily hang out. Sounds like a dream come true, especially when Yuki wants some time to take a nap or we want to eat dinner together without holding Mika at the same time.

Yuki tried it out today with great success -- Mika seemed to love it. So, apparently, did Hachi. When Mika went into the chair, Hachi ran over to hang out next to her. And as soon as she was out of the chair, Hachi jumped in and curled up to take a nap. It was cute the first time, but we quickly realized that he was getting awfully comfortable in our new little arm-freeing lifesaver. (I've posted some pictures of Mika (and Hachi) enjoying the papasan chair.)

When Hachi jumped in the chair for the second or third time tonight, I turned to him and said: "No Hachi, the chair is for babies. Big boys sleep on the couch." He jumped out and followed me over to his favorite spot on the couch, curled up and went to sleep. Looking back on it, I'm not sure what's more ridiculous: that I feel totally comfortable talking to the dog or that I referred to our mini wiener dog as a "big boy."

Mika's first itunes playlist

Mika is still a night owl, so I decided to put together an itunes play list to help her sleep through the night. In total, there's almost three and a half hours of music designed to carry her away to dream land (if she actually slept through the entire mix, I'd consider it a huge victory!).

Among the 48 songs: Moonshadow (Cat Stevens); Sunrise (Nora Jones); Hummingbird (Kris Delmhorst); You've Got A Friend (Carol King); Love Is... (Common); Call You Home (Mark Erelli); Power of Two (Indigo Girls); Sleeping To Dream (Jason Mraz); Night Swimming (R.E.M.); Over and Over (Morcheeba) and Mercy Street (Peter Gabriel).

My criteria was pretty simple: no cursing, no heavy metal and no songs I'd want to blast in the car. Everything else was fair game. Not surprisingly, I ended up with a lot of acoustic stuff (mostly folk). I guess our expansive hip hop and 80's heavy metal collections will have to wait for another time.

I haven't tried it out yet, but I'm confident the mix will have the hypnotic, sleep-inducing effect we've been longing for. If it doesn't work for her, maybe it will lull Yuki and I into such a deep sleep that we don't hear her crying.

Ultrasound reveals a hurricane?

After I updated the blog with news of my sister's pregnancy, someone mentioned their surprise that I posted the ultrasound photo. As the person said: "It's your sister's uterus... and you posted it on the internet!"

I guess I did (I got permission from my sister first), but I was totally focused on the little baby in the picture... or at least that roundish spot that the doctor labeled "baby." Yuki and I were the same with with our own ultrasound photos. We showed them to anyone who would look at them -- friends, neighbors, people at work, the bus driver... you know, everyone.

The funny thing is, the early ultrasound pictures really don't look like anything at all. They're like a Rorschach inkblot test... Is it a baby or a radar image of a hurricane off the coast of Florida?

During our first ultrasound, I was convinced that I saw the baby until the nurse politely told me she was looking at Yuki's bladder. Bladder, baby... whatever. As soon-to-be-parents we saw exactly what we wanted: the cutest little gray and white blurry thing we ever saw. And we couldn't wait to show that blurry thing to the rest of the world. So what if it was Yuki's bladder.

Mika: Meet Sea Monkey Anderson

My sister recently shared some wonderful news with us... she's pregnant! Ann had her first ultrasound, which confirmed that a weird, gray and white blob has taken up residence in a large black blob somewhere in her body. As far as blobs go, it's one of the cutest I've ever seen.

Ann and Drew have apparently decided to call their baby-to-be "Sea Monkey." A non-traditional name it is, but I think it has real potential. I'm thinking the kid is a shoe-in for a job with "cirque du soleil" or as an avante guarde clothing designer. Or maybe our kids can form some kind of band... perhaps "Mika and the Sea Monkeys."

On a serious note, I hope Mika and "Sea Monkey" become fast friends, so we have lots of reasons to hang out as a big family. Watching my little sister become a mom is going to be pretty amazing.

"It's amazing what you sleep through, Peter"

I've always had the ability to sleep through just about anything (which I clearly didn't pass on to Mika). As a baby, my mom used to run the vacuum under my bed when I was napping. In college, I would fall asleep reading for class, only to wake up a couple hours later to find a crowd of people hanging out in my dorm room -- some even sitting on my bed.

When we got Hachi, he couldn't make it through the night without 1 or 2 bathroom breaks (which we preferred he take outside the house, so we had to wake up and take him to the yard). Each time we got ready to go to bed, I would cheerfully tell Yuki: "Wake me up when he needs to go out!" When the time came to make good on that promise, Yuki would shake me and I'd mumble something about wanting to help and keep on snoozing. She eventually gave up and took over the late-night pee watch on her own.

I was determined to do a better job with Mika. And for the last two weeks, I was doing pretty well. At the hospital, I would spring awake when it was time to feed Mika. When we got home, I took a lot of late-night shifts to help her settle down. But lately, I've been losing the battle to my sleep comas.

The first warning sign came last week. We were asleep, and Mika started fussing and crying. The whole thing is pretty hazy to me, but apparently I turned to Yuki and asked "Do you need a burp cloth?" and then promptly passed out again. Two nights ago, I got my first long stretch of sleeping since we came home with the baby. When I woke up around 5AM, I rolled over and said to Yuki: "Wow, Mika's starting to sleep through the night!" Yuki rolled her eyes and explained that Mika wailed all night and she was awake all night trying to calm her down.

Then last night, Yuki was feeding Mika in the baby's room (less than 10 feet from our bedroom), when Mika threw up everywhere. Yuki called for me... and called for me... and called for me. I never had a clue.

One of our friends recently told a story about a set of new parents she knew. When things got tough with their newborn, they'd joke about flushing the kid down the toilet. This morning, Yuki said to me "It's amazing what you sleep through, Peter" and then wondered aloud if I would fit in our toilet. I may have been a bit premature in clearing a spot on our mantle for my Father-of-the-year award!

Hachi, our four legged body guard

Yuki's father arrived from Bangkok last night, so I went to Logan to pick him up while Yuki and her mom stayed home with Mika. When we arrived back at the house, we threw open the door, put down his bags, and made a bee-line directly for Mika.

Hachi didn't like that idea. At all.

He put himself between Yuki's dad and Mika and started barking furiously (something he doesn't do often). Since Hachi had never met Yuki's dad, it took us about 20 minutes to convince him everything okay. Even then, he made sure he was always a few feet away from Mika just in case she needed his help (or protection). As Yuki's dad rocked Mika in the living room, Hachi laid down by his feet, keeping a constant eye on the baby.

One of our biggest fears in bringing Mika home was that Hachi would get jealous that a new cute thing was stealing his attention. Last night, it was clear that Hachi considers Mika a part of the family. It's also clear that he has decided it will be his job to protect her. I never thought it was possible, but I'm actually proud of our dog.

More Photo Galleries Posted

It's official: I have become my father. He's the one in our family who always has a camera (sometimes two or three at the same time). We usually scoff at him while he's constantly shooting pictures, but when the pictures are developed (or uploaded to a computer), we elbow each other out of the way to give them a look.

Maybe it's a side-effect of fatherhood, or maybe it's in the Sanborn genes... but ever since Mika was born, our camera has been permanently attached to my hip. No moment is too mundane. Mika yawns, I take a picture. She sleeps, I take more pictures. She stares blankly at the wall, I zoom in to capture the oh-so-cute blankness in her eyes.

I've posted a couple new galleries with some of the photos I've taken over the last few days. I already feel bad for our second child... there will be 10,000 pictures of Mika, and probably one photo of our second kid's 1st birthday and then one more at his/her college graduation.

Wanted: Freelance Broadcast Censor

While Yuki was pregnant, we joked about how we'd need to stop using the more "colorful" words in our vocabularies once the baby was born. You know, the words that seem oh-so-appropriate when someone cuts you off ("Watch where you're going, @#^%&$!") , or when a car blows through a red light right in front of you ("Didn't you see the ##%^#'ing red light, you #%@%%^@"), or when you see a beautiful sunset ("#&%@, that's a #@%#$'ing beautiful sunset.")

We've tried going cold turkey, but it hasn't been as successful as we hoped. The cussing has been reduced, but a bunch of our most favorite words continue to eek through. Babies are supposed to be like sponges, so we're worried that her first word might be four letters and start with "F." That's not quite the Hallmark moment we're hoping for.

So what's a cursing couple to do?

We could try the "Leave it to Beaver" approach and try using "gosh" and "golly" and "aw, shucks" instead of our current list of R-rated favorites. But I'm worried we'd be too wholesome and goody-goody. Mika would probably end up as a serial killer.

I considered the possibility of going "high brow" and replacing our four-letter favorites with 15-letter synonyms. Example: "That guy is so pestiferous... listening to him blather on makes me so umbrageous." But who wants to consult a thesaurus every time some bedlamite cuts you off in the parking lot?

As far as I'm concerned, the only feasible solution is to hire our own FCC broadcast censor who can travel with us at all times and provide a "beep" every time we say something in appropriate. If he/she could figure out how to institute a 5-second delay, even better. If you know anyone who's interested, let them know we're accepting applications as we speak.

Spit-up, snorting and other adventures at the pediatrician's office

This morning, Yuki and I took Mika to her second pediatrician's appointment. He started by asking us how we felt the first week at home had gone. After giving it a moment's thought, we told him, "She's still breathing, so we considered that a small victory!"

As it turns out, Mika has been doing just fine. She's gained weight, has good color, and hasn't developed any strange maladies that caused the pediatrician to seize her on the spot. I asked about her frequent snorting (think little piglet) -- it's normal. We wondered about her refusal to go to sleep after 6 PM -- also completely normal. We even asked if Mika was still on course to gain admission to the university of her choice -- that one, it seems, is a little harder to determine during a routine exam (but we still have our fingers crossed).

The positive health report card was great, but the morning was made complete when Mika sneezed while spitting up -- resulting in a strange long-range projectile spray of spit up all over my sweater. You know you love your daughter when the only thing that comes to mind is: "She was looking right in my eyes when she sneezed -- she must really love me!"

A wise observation, indeed

So I just got the following email from my good friend Aaron: "Upon hearing the latest installment of your baby blog, Rosanna [Aaron's girl friend] proclaims that you're clearly not getting enough sleep. I mean does the kid even wear shoes yet?"

She doesn't even wear socks... and it's 1:45 AM and I'm not only reading my email, but updating the blog too. Yup, I need a lot more sleep.

Our first parenting dilemma!

Though I've only been a parent for 11 days, I've learned that parenting is all about teamwork. Yuki and I try to split the work load as evenly as possible -- we both change diapers, we both console Mika when she's crying, we trade late-night shifts when Mika won't go back to sleep, etc.

But there are times when one of us is better suited for a parenting task than the other. Yuki, for example, is the superior breast feeder. (I gave it the ol' college try after Mika was born, but the hospital staff politely asked me to let Yuki take over after Mika dropped 12 ounces in less than a day.) I think that's nature's way of saying that there are certain life lessons and important teachings that clearly fall to one of us to impart and not the other.

I'm the last person in the world, for example, who should teach Mika to dance... or speak Japanese... or wrap a gift... or open a bag of potato chips (Yuki once patiently explained to me that the bag should be delicately opened to avoid tearing the edges or damaging the chips inside).

When it comes time to teach Mika to hit a sand wedge out of a green-side bunker, however, we both agree that I'm her guy. (While I can teach Mika how to get out of a sand trap, I'm going to have to find someone with a much better golf game to teach her how to avoid them in the first place.)

But there's a least one area where Yuki and I don't see eye to eye: teaching Mika to tie her shoes. I'm a big believer in the "bunny ears" method -- a tried and true method passed down to me by my father when I was a young lad. Unfortunately, my mere suggestion that Mika should follow in our footsteps makes Yuki cringe. Apparently, she thinks my dad and I are the only two adults in the modern world who still make two big loops when we tie our shoes. (Not so: according to this random blog, there are least seven other adults who subscribe to the bunny ear method).

In search of a solution to our parenting dilemma, I conducted some extensive internet research. Thankfully, I stumbled on the "No 1 ranked shoelace site on the internet." It turns out there are 17 different ways to tie your shoes, including a "revolutionary" method that appears to solve our dilemma: the Ian Knot. Not only does it combine the traditional method with the bunny ear method to produce "the world's fastest shoelace knot," it also saves wear and tear on the laces. Fast, revolutionary and economical... parenting crisis averted!

Houston: We have umbilical detachment!

The only remaining evidence that Mika lived her first nine months in Yuki's womb disappeared today, when Mika's umbilical cord stump fell off during her bath. The whole thing was rather unceremonious. One minute, it was sticking out of her tummy looking all hard and gross. The next minute it was gone, revealing her belly button. I don't think Mika even knew what happened.

The rest of her bath was uneventful, though quite cute. Yuki wrapped her in a bunny towel from "Aunty Laura" while she got wiped down with warm, soapy water. I took (and have since posted) lots of photos of the bath. No worries -- I didn't include any photos of the umbilical stump!

Yes, I think I do need a jazzerciser

One of the unexpected side effects of having a newborn is my increased exposure to late-night infomercials. Mika has been waking up around 1:30 or 2AM and staying up until 4 or 4:30... since I can barely keep my eyes open, I've been turning on the TV and walking her around the living room to calm her back to sleep. Not surprisingly, there aren't many quality shows on, but it's prime time for all kinds of commercials for ridiculous products and "systems" for making millions of dollars from the comfort of my living room.

So far, I've had the will power to steer clear of the phone and my credit cards. But as my sleep deprivation increases, I think there's a good chance I'll give in and place my first order. What will it be? A cookware set made of space aged materials to ensure proper heat distribution every time? A miracle cleaner that promises to turn even the dingiest clothing bright white? Or perhaps an exercise machine that shapes and tones my abs in just 5 minutes a day. By the time Mika is sleeping through the night, I'll be a muscular chef who makes outstanding brownies while wearing crisp white tee-shirts!

Our #1 Son Approves

Yuki and I weren't sure how Hachi would react to the new addition to the family... Would he like Mika? Would he get jealous? Would he try to eat her (I didn't really think he would, but stranger things have happened)?

We had no idea what to expect, so we carefully gave Hachi a chance to check her out last night. He was very curious and immediately wanted to give her a sniff. She must have passed the test, because he immediately snuggled up beside her and cast a watchful eye over her as she slept. We both let out a sigh of relief. It seems that our four legged son approves of his two-legged companion, even though she isn't quite as furry and doesn't eat out of a bowl on the floor.

I posted a couple other images of their first encounter in Picasa.

Are you a sweet pea or a tater tot?

When it came time to pick a name for our baby, Yuki and I had a pretty lengthy set of requirements. The first name had to be Japanese and start with the letter "M." From there, Yuki ruled out any name that reminded her of someone she didn't like from her childhood. Then we tossed out any name that would prove problematic later in her life ("Midori" was one of my favorites, except for the fact that everyone associated it Midori Sour. There was no way I was going to name my daughter after a drink). It took a while to find the right name for her, but we were committed to our naming requirements.

By contrast, our quest to find the perfect nickname for Mika hasn't been subject to such a staunch set of criteria. On the one hand, the sky is limit. On the other hand, the sky is the limit. So we just started test driving some nicknames to see what fit. Our initial attempts ranged from the conventional ("cutie") to the absurd ("tater tot," which was inspired by one of the breakfast options in Mount Auburn's room service menu).

We haven't settled on a final selection just yet, but we've been tossing around the following options:

"Baboon" I thought this had potential, but it sounds ridiculous when I use it in context. I can't keep a straight face when I say to her "Settle down little baboon, and give daddy a burp."

"Monkey" I tried this one out when I saw Mika sleeping on Yuki the other night. She looked just like a little chimp baby perched on Yuki's shoulder. It's cute and it makes me smile... just like Mika.

"Munchkin" Who doesn't love a munchkin?

"Sweet Pea" My parents called my sister sweet pea, and I always liked it. Because of its sentimental value, this one has potential.

In effort to broaden our list, I did some internet research on baby nicknames. I found an online nickname generator, which suggested "cutey chin." I'm not so sure about that one. But at least it's better than "Littles McGhee," which, as one new dad/blogger discovered, didn't have the universal appeal he was hoping for. At least it was memorable.

We're home!

We arrived home about an hour ago and are beginning to settle in. Even though I swore I wouldn't be one of those new parents who drives home at 5 miles and hour, I found myself crawling along Alewife Brook Parkway.

I've just uploaded a couple of photos of Mika that we took as we packed her into the car seat in order to leave the hospital. At first, she was really unhappy in the seat, but as soon as she realized it was warm and fuzzy, she quickly fell asleep.

Homeward bound

This morning will be our last at Mount Auburn, which is both exciting and a little scary. I'm looking forward to bring Mika home, introducing her to Hachi, and having more room to spread out. But it's going to be very hard to leave behind all the support we've received at the hospital. Everyone we've met on the staff has been great. We have a question, they have an answer... any time of day, no matter how small it is. Yuki even dumped an entire pitcher of ice water on one of her nurses, who never lost a beat. That's dedication.

As we get ready to head home, I keep wondering how people survive delivery and the first few days without all of this help. Humans have been having babies for thousands of years, but I'm pretty sure there weren't any lactation consultants stopping by the caves as our ancestors had their children. It seems to me that there are really two miracles with childbirth: the creation of a new living being, and surviving the process in one piece.

Mika is such an interesting name... is it Sullustan?

I don't know a lot of about genetics, but it seems that Yuki and I must have some serious "cheek genes." Mika has these big, rosy cheeks that scream out to be pinched. The more I looked at her, the more I started to think that I had seen those chubby cheeks before. Then it hit me -- she looked like one of the space creatures in Star Wars!

After a lot of research on the internet (it's crazy how many people have huge websites dedicated to detailing every alien creature in the Star Wars universe), I finally found the picture I was looking for. The creature's name is Nien Nunb -- a Sullustan pilot that helped Lando Calrissian fly the Millennium Falcon. The more I looked at his picture, the more I saw other similarities between him and Mika beyond their big cheeks (the Star Wars fans describe them as "jowls"). They both have striking dark eyes and a pronounced cone head. Apparently, the Sullustan language is best described as liquid and chattering... that sounds a lot like the noises Mika has been making. We figured she was just crying or fussy... but she might be trying to tell us the location of the Death Star.

Take a look for yourself: