This blog was originally set up as a means of keeping friends and family updated during Nolan's surgery and hospital stay in January 2008. It has evolved into a report of the adventures he and his twin sister, Reagan, AKA "The Twinadoes" share with their family and friends. As well as our pursuit of happiness through food, wine, and friends.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Like "Seinfeld", a lot about Nothing
(posted by Bill)
Things are going so much better for Nolan tonight. It’s not pretty, due to all the swelling, but to me, he is a lot more peaceful than when I saw him yesterday. He seems to be resting more along the lines of his normal routine. No, I’m not implying that the kids are put into a morphine-induced trance every night, but as most of our friends know, both he and Reagan have had excellent 12-13 hour sleep patterns (much to the envy of our other child-bearing friends) since they were 12 weeks old (so don’t go starting any nasty rumors, pal). His hands aren’t quite as swollen, so he can close then a little, and his arms are bent into a more natural sleep position. He can almost clutch his blanket. He does moan once in a while, and I try and talk or read to him. I’m sure it’s very difficult for him not being able to see, due to the swelling.
We had some bonding tonight, watching a movie (well, since eyes are swollen shut, he listened with rapt, albeit somnambulant fascination). I brought Battlestar Galactica: Razor, and I’m sure he found it very compelling, but I assured him that he is not a Cylon, despite the red dot from his pulse-Ox monitor glowing through his toe.
When Nolan was a little restless, daddy read to him. Since Nolan has an interest in food (he eats a lot of it), I read him parts of Ruhlman’s Elements of Cooking. He appreciates the witticisms as much as daddy, and agrees with Ruhlman’s observation that veal [stock] is pretty blah on its own (veal is about the only thing both Nolan and his sister Reagan don’t like so far, in their palate of culinary experiences to date. If you saw the pureed, paste-colored stuff that came out of that jar of organic baby food, you’d turn your nose to it as well, or demand some crab and hollandaise, or at least some espagnole). Nolan is finally back on formula, and hoovers down the little trial-sized bottles of Enfamil as if he was kicking back shots of Schwarz Haus.
Additionally, I started reading Levitin’s This is Your Brain on Music , a study of why music resonates so much with us. It was recommended to me by my friend Ian, who is a gifted musician and club d.j. par excellence. We spent many years in the Club Wars together, and Ian suggested that it might provide some meaning for my own rhythm-driven psyche. Both Nolan and Reagan seem to have an affinity for music, which I want to encourage. When the kids initially came home, we found a place where you can get lullaby renditions of artists, so the kids got regular doses of U2, Metallica, No Doubt, The Ramones, and Nirvana as newborns (these are also playng non-stop for Nolan at the hospital, along with some Cocteau Twins, Enya, and accoustic Foo Fighters). In addition, the kids are exposed to an eclectic mix of other music, though they seem to get heavy exposure to Foo Fighters and Duran Duran, and plenty of ska.
As you can see, daddy has much more time on his hands to be creative (smart-alecky?) with Nolan than Mommy did. Naturally, our little guy is so much better along on his recovery at this point, and daddy also has the benefit of a decent night’s rest. Hopefully, mommy is getting hers tonight. She is absolutely exhausted, and deserves some uninterrupted sleep. As our friend Kay pointed out, a parental scrip for Atavan or Xanax would be in order, included along with all the meds for Nolan.
I’m sure that Reagan will cooperate, and will be a little (though maybe angry-looking) angel.
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