Seven The record stands at seven. Seven short, wabbly steps in a row, in the same direction, is the best Hannes has done so far. He takes shorter sprints - say, 4-5 steps - all the time, and even twirls sometimes. He's fast, but his endurance is not the best, it looks like.
It is amazing, though. It's hard to tell who is the happiest when he walks, the person sending him off, the one catching him, or Hannes himself. If you could bottle up happiness and turn it into energy, we could heat up a mid-sized Finnish town with one of Hannes's walks.
Baby steps Yes. Hannes has taken his first unaided steps. Hooray! He takes small steps, baby steps, all the time now, just moving from one safe place (like the couch) to another (the coffee table, "and hey, while I am at it, I may as well grab the remote control"). It's not that he walks to the bathroom or anything, but I would guess that he spends more time in a vertical than horizontal position these days.
And he looks so happy doing it.
I know I have been a bad blogger this year, and I will definitely try to be better in 2004. Meanwhile, Merry Christmas to everybody. We're going to take a jump start on the holidays this year as we'll have a little Christmas dinner here first, and then another in Stockholm on Christmas Eve. Ho, ho, ho.
This is Hannes Hannes is really into phones. Not only does he go after my mobile phone the second he sees it, he also takes remote controls, little cups, and tin lids and uses them as a phone. He holds the "phone" next to his year and laughs and talks and talks and laughs. It is really, really, cute.
Lately, there've been several long distance calls to Santa. He also likes to call Grandma, Grandpa, Dad (sitting 2 feet away) and Mom (the same).
A lot of time it looks as if Hannes was simply my personal assistant as he takes the phone, dials the number, talks and laughs into the phone, and then gives it to me. So now we know. "Ta ta ta tuu ta ta ta, he he he" means "This is Hannes from Risto's office, hold on" in Hannes-talk.
You'd better watch out, you'd better not cry We got our first snow yesterday. Perfect, since it's only a week until Christmas. Jessica and I kinda made a decision pretty early on that we wouldn't go totally overboard with presents to Hannes. 'Cause, basically, he won't really have a clue, except that he'll probably love having a lot of people admiring whatever his latest trick will be in a week and a half.
However, I can feel this holiday spirit wiping me out, and I would want to get him something. We went to the Christmas market in downtown Helsinki today, and we bought Hannes a little something -- behind his back, literally. It was a nice little toy kinda thing, but it added some fuel into my Christmas flame. Gotta go shopping next week. Not only for Hannes, but for Jessica, too! And Mom and Dad and Jessi's sister and brother and oh yeah, him and her!
Walking the walk, talking the talk One thing that everybody's asking me these days - when I talk about Hannes, my 1-year-old son - is if Hannes walks. Walking is a big thing, walking's huge. Basically, when a baby gets upright, he becomes a real human, and leaves the monkey world for monkeys. Not the monkeying around, necessarily.
Oh, Hannes doesn't walk yet. He can stand up, especially if he doesn't notice that he's not leaning on anything, but taking that first step seems to be a feat Hannes is just not ready for.
But oh boy, does he talk. From the second he wakes up to the second he falls asleep. For the past few weeks, all he said was variations of t and vowels. You know, "tatata," "to to to," "teteteeetee". Yesterday, he switched to "k": "kakakaka," "kokokoko." Even if we don't really know what he's saying, we do understand him.
Happy birthday, Hannes Today's the day. Hannes's age is no longer measured in months or weeks, but years. Our son, our baby, won't be "6 months" anymore, he'll be "a year," "a little over a year," "almost a year and a half," "almost two years now."
A year ago, Jessica and I were sitting at the hospital cafeteria, looking at a tiny, yellowish boy sleeping in a bed beside us. I was trying to learn to change the diapers, to hold him right, and I loved carrying him around.
Right now, Jessica and I sit by our kitchen table. Hannes is sleeping in his bed in our room. He was exhausted by the party he threw for his Finnish relatives and friends. It must be tough being the focus of everyone's attention. So many ideas, so few words.
It has been a long year. We have been through a lot, as some of you know after sticking with the blog this long. You'll remember how I stayed at home last December, Hannes's first Xmas, how Jessica got depressed and started to feel better again, how Hannes got his Finnish citizenship - and Swedish passport, Hannes's first smile, first teeth, first flu, first trip to Sweden, to Grandpa's. And little sleep.
Mostly, it has been a wonderful, long year. The three of us have become a (excuse my poor Austin Powers impersonation here) "toight" family unit.
2003 will go down in history as the Year of Hannes. And no sleep.
Oh boy! We took off on Thursday morning at six. I just got home, it's 6 a.m on Friday. In that 24-hour period I have witnessed courage, love, caring, guts, hunger, sleep deprivation and happiness. A lot of happiness.
I am proud to say that Jessica and I became parents tonight. Hannes, our son, was born on 22 November at 2.58 a.m.
I checked the time on my grandpa's old watch.
:: Risto Pakarinen, 07:24"
That's what I wrote close to a year ago. In fact, that was 363 days ago, and Hannes will have his first birthday party on Saturday. He will celebrate his first year on Earth among friends and relatives. Like he should. He will also celebrate it crawling around, driving his new Big Bobby car, probably eating some cake, blowing out the candle, and generally just having fun.
I honestly can't remember what Jessica and did before we had Hannes. I have seen photos of us visiting Graceland and Mexico, there's the family legend of us skating around Norrviken lake in Sweden. But as far as my memory's concerned, Hannes has always been there.
Hannes and Jessica are on their way home from Sweden now, so I'd better get to the airport right now. This must be something like 8th time Hannes flies over the Baltic Sea. The first time he did it, he was 3 weeks old. And I was SO PROUD when I carried him onboard.
Father's Day Yesterday, Sunday, was Father's Day in Finland (and Sweden). My first as a father.
It's funny, my family has never really celebrated Mother's Day or Father's Day in any special way. Sure, I would draw something at school, hide it around for a couple of days and then bring it out on the Special Day. But the rest of the Sunday we would just do what we always did: go for a drive, eat hamburgers at Carrols, go to a hockey game or watch TV together. That's what we did.
Two of my (father) friends called me today, and both actually asked me how Father's Day had been. And I told them that it had been cool and that I had got a drawing from Hannes.
I found it on my laptop in the morning. See, Hannes wakes up kinda early, at around 6.30 or something, and I usually go up with him, after he's got his morning bottle, so that Jessica can sleep in a litt´le bit. Hannes and I get up and check the NHL scores. It takes Hannes about 20 minutes to really wake up, so he thinks it's nice to sit on the sofa, in Dad's lap, but let me tell you, when I then put him down, he hits the ground running. Pretty much literally.
So, we got up, checked the scores and played a little in the living room. Then we came to the kitchen, and I found the drawing. "Have a good Father's Day, ät-täh," it said. I gave Hannes a kiss on the cheek and handed the "Piano Animal" to him. He started to play the piano and dance, I sat down at the table and watched him wiggle his diapers.
At 8, Jessica got up, as usual, and the three of us had breakfast, as usual. And inthe afternoon I went for a walk with Hannes, we played, went out to dinner together and ate hamburgers, and then watched some hockey on TV.
So, sorry if you misunderstood in the beginning when I said that we haven't celebrated Father's Day. I didn't mean that in a bad way, or that I would be unhappy. No, no, I am a very, very lucky man. I have Father's Day every day.
"Look, Ma" Let it be known that Hannes has officially reached the age where he learns something every single day. And unlike me, who also like to brag that I learn something every day, he doesn't forget it the next day.
Yesterday was a busy day for Hannes. He learned at least two new things, and perfected a third one to a point where he can say he masters it.
First, last night, as Jessi was lying on the couch, watching TV, and I was just standing in the middle of our living room, all of a sudden, Hannes took his little "walking cart" and .. started to walk, pushing the green thing in front of him. He had been a little intimidated by it before, but now he just gets up and walks.
Second, a little later on, I saw him sitting on the floor, clapping his hands. This, too, has been something that he's been fascinated with, but hasn't been able to do himself.
And last, but not least, Hannes surprised Jessica and me by yelling, "Äiti! Titta" the other day. Now, "äiti" is "Ma" in Finnish, and "titta" "look" in Swedish.
So, basically, he has all the makings of a talk show host. He can yell, clap his hands and walk away.
Big Boy Hannes had some company over. His buddy from Karlstad, Jaspar, son of Sofia and Per, a Swedish couple that lived in Helsinki until May drove up to Stockholm yesterday.
It'd been a few months (well, since May) since we'd seen Jaspar so obviously he had grown a lot. That, and he wanted to walk all the time! It was pretty funny to see him hold Per/Sofia's arms and walk away. I mean, he's just eight months old.
Meanwhile, Hannes was sitting in his high chair, looking at Jaspar looking at him looking at Jaspar, eating a sandwich and making funny faces.
And all of a sudden, Hannes seemed so big. So communicative, almost talkative! Three months is a long time in the Baby world.
But pretty soon Jaspar and Hannes can really play together.
I remember being scared of the dark, and the night. For lots of different reason, but mostly simply because everything looks different at night. I don't think Hannes is afraid of the nights, on the contrary maybe, but it is getting harder for me to not get worried about how the night's going to be. Hannes seems to have tummyache at night.
Oh, we've been up at Hudiksvall visiting Aunt Jenny and her Joel. That was fun. Hudiksvall is a small community north of Stockholm, and we got to know the downtown area pretty well. :)
Anyway, since Aunt Jenny doesn't have a bed for anybody close to 11 months old, Hannes slept next to me or Jessica. He sleeps peacefully until about 2, then starts to moan and whine until 4 when he just gets up. He never seems to have tummyache in daytime which is a little strange. Anyway, last night I got up at 4 (most nights it's Jessi who does it) and walked around the apartment with him for a while, and then thought I would let him play on the sofa (where I could lie down). He got up as merrily as ever, only to fall asleep about 30 s later. I was excited. Have I found the cure to Hannes's night sleep? We'll see.
Chillin' out We usually take Hannes for a nice walk in the cool autumn day in the mornings and afternoons. Or a cool walk in the nice autumn day. Anyway, the weather is definitely getting chillier - this is Finland, after all - so we have to pay a little more attention to Hannes's clothes than in the summer.
Basically, we know what Hannes should wear, but Hannes doesn't seem to agree. First, there's the issue with the hat. I mean, I know that he has to wear one, Jessi knows that and you know that. And I am pretty sure that deep, deep down, Hannes also knows that, yet he refuses to wear one.
And since we're very loving and caring, yet disciplined parents, we always stop and put the hat back on over Hannes's ears. And we walk about four steps before he pulls it off. We tell him that he HAS to wear the hat, and state at least two different reasons, pull the hat back on and start walking again. Four steps later, we're explaining to Hannes that he really, really, really HAS to wear the hat.
This happens a few times, and then we give him something even more interesting to play with (car keys, mobile phone hands-free, a toy he has, MY HAT, anything). So, we walk in that cool autumn day, and the next thing we notice is that Hannes is leaning backwards, being cool, hanging his foot outside the stroller, with no sock on.
"Hannes, where are your socks, you really have to wear socks, you know, because..."
He's just toying with us, I am sure. He'll tell all about it to his buddies at the Babies' Club. And they'll all just laugh, laugh, laugh.
Seriously, it's funny how many things Hannes does, instinctively, that are really against common sense. Socks and hat is one thing, not sleeping when tired another.
It's interesting. Wonder what would happen if he'd have his way?
You can call me Al Hannes seems to be a real family man, uh, boy. It's not like he's overjoyed to go for a walk with me, or Jessica alone, but when he's sitting in his blue limo, and he sees the two of us pushing him gently along, he basically goes nuts. He jumps up and down and slams his little Chile-hat-covered head onto the back of his trolley and starts talking away.
Usually, you can see this phenomenon when one of us has been away for a while and then suddenly reappears.
It's always a happy family reunion. It almost makes me want to go away for awhile.
Also, we have finally discovered what that "at-ta, tha, tuh" sound means...
[maestro, music please]
IT MEANS "DAD"!
Or, somethng like that, because Hannes seems to be talking about me and to me when he says that. I'm a tha-tuh! I'm a ta-ta. I'm a ta-tuh.
I just can't believe how much energy a little person has. Jessica told me a few months ago how some Swedish lightweight boxer had tried to imitate his baby an entire day. Like, whenever his baby waved his arms, the boxer would. When the baby crawled, the boxer did, too. And so on. Until the boxer was all wiped out.
Another amazing fact of babies: Babies laugh, on average, 300 times a day. 300 times! A grown-up person laughs, on average, 15 times a day. Now, people with babies probably laugh a little more than that, but still. What a difference! (The babies also cry, on average, many, many times a day, I have no precise stats on that.)
So, basically, Hannes is at it all the time. He's standing up, against anything vertical, laughs, he waves, he falls, cries, he crawls, he chases a ball, laughs, he builds things, laughs, he takes things apart, cries, he examines the VCR, laughs, cries, then crawls back to the VCR...
Forget the Joneses. I have a hard time keeping up with Hannes.
Team Hannes I got up at 4.52 this morning because Hannes wanted to. Actually, that's not true, since I don't think Hannes actually woke up at all, he just made a lot of noise so I thought it'd be smart to get up and hold him a little bit. I think it's fascinating how he can keep on sleeping and yet make sounds all the time. (Jessica probably knows a lot more about this topic than I do. I don't think I sleep very quietly).
So, there I was again, squinting my eyes, looking at the clock on the microwave oven, trying to see what time it was. (4.53). Hannes seemed pretty happy, and just breathed heavily. And all of a sudden, I woke up. I wasn't tired at all. I looked out into our backyard, and it was nice and quiet there. It was a very peaceful moment.
Then, of course, Hannes let a little steam out of his belly which made me focus on him again. And he smiled at me in his sleep.
That smile alone is worth getting up at 4.52.
Which is one of the reasons I have decided to leave the company I have worked for and go freelance. That way, I can hopefully spend more awake time with Hannes.
I am sorry that I haven't been writing to you. I actually did write to you once, but the power was out for 40 minutes in Helsinki, and I couldn't post the letter.
Anyway, you'll be coming home tomorrow, and I can't wait. Like I said before, I have a few new tricks I want to show you. I have become quite the master with the yellow ball.
Today, I thought I would tell you a story about when I was a kid. I have always been pretty good at school, so I have been lucky that way. I got good grades most of the time. Then once, we had a math test where we had to add and substract (maybe 2nd grade) on a line, and for some reason, I always started from 1, instead of 0, which meant that all my calculations were off by one. So I failed the test. And I was miserable. But you can bet your ... hockey puck that I learned my lesson. And the failing hasn't bothered me much. So, it's OK to make mistakes.
Now, I went home with my "4" (= "F") and showed it to Mom. And then we decided that it was best to not tell about it to Dad. And Hannes, that has bothered me much more that the fact that I failed. Was Dad going to be mad at me? We don't know. Was he going to be sad? We don't know. So, Hannes, whatever you do, remember that you can always come and talk to Mom and me. Even if you think that we won't like what you have to say, say it, because a) you won't know until you say it, b) we'll always try to help you any way we can.
Congratulations, Hannes, you're nine months old today! Woohoo! I was talking to (your) Mom the other day, and I asked her which nine months she thought felt longer, the last nine months, or the nine months before that, when we were expecting you.
She said the first nine months. I am not sure what I think. All I know that when I sit here by the kitchen table, I remember the first weeks you were at home with us, and how I often sat here holding you, and just looking at you. You were not really sleeping, but not really awake, either. You just were there, and I was so proud to hold you and to protect you.
Anyway, today I was reminded of the fact that a lot of people care about others but never say it. Sometimes they only come out and tell you they like you when you're about to leave or when they think it's going to make a difference. So, Hannes, let people know you love them. The way you hug Mom, or laugh when I do my funny dance.
There will be times when saying "I love you" can be the hardest you ever did, but it's worth it. Trust me.
Have a great, great 9-monthaversary. Give Mom a kiss for me.
Letters to Hannes, day 1 I was thinking that since Hannes is on his road show, I can't really write about what he does and how funny and cute he is. So why not write about how funny I am and how cute I am?. Just kidding.
Actually, I was thinking that I would write a letter to Hannes each day now.
Helsinki, August 20
Moi Hannes!
I hope you're having fun in Sweden, with Mom and Co. She has told me how you've charmed everybody. Just don't go overboard, son, just don't go overboard. Too much sugar ain't never good.
I miss you and Mom, and can't wait to get you back home again. Remind me to be careful when we see again, because I might hug you a bit too hard otherwise.
I haven't been doing anything special. I have been playing with that yellow ball, you know, and I've got a couple of new tricks to show you in a few days. Last night, I also tasted the remote control, and Hannes, I really don't understand why you chew it all the time. You have to explain it to me some day.
But the reason I decided to write this letter to you is that I want to teach you something. It sounds a little silly, because I hope to be teaching it to you by example as you grow up, but I am going to put it in here, too.
Hannes, when you grow up, remember to be brave. Take chances, do whatever you feel that's right. It's probably as scary as ... that moose that always tickles you, but once you've done, you feel great and charged. Don't be ruthless, though, and respect others. But always listen to your heart, because nobody else can tell what is right for you. There are no right answers, Hannes, you make a choice, and deal with it. So, listen to your heart.
Hannes's adventures What a weird morning. I dreamt that Hannes was standing up and making funny sounds, and then all of a sudden he was doing a radio morning show. I thought it was weird since I thought I was about the only person in the world that understood him. But there he was, a guest on the show.
Then Hannes went off air, and the regular guys were back on, and I realized that there was nobody else in bed with me. I mean, had there been somebody else, I had pretty much streamrolled over her by then.
And there was no Hannes making funny sounds in his bed. No Hannes looking at me with his big eyes, waiting for me to pick him up.
Nope. Hannes is out on a road show, entertaining Grandma and Grandpa in Sweden for a while. I have a whole week to come up funny stuff to show him when he gets back.
Triple tongue There are currently three languages spoken in our household: Finnish, Swedish and Hannes. It's pretty funny becaus both Jessica and I are pretty anxious to hear Hannes's first words. Not that we know that he'll be talking any time soon.
I mean, he does make a lot of different sounds, but talking? Not really.
Hannes can say, for example, "tha-tha" and I will get super excited and point to Jessi and go, "yeah, äi-ti, äi-ti", "äiti" being Finnish for "mother." (Now, there's a whole other issue since Jessica would really want Hannes to call her "mamma," but I just can't put that one word of Swedish into my Finnish sentences. I get so self-conscious about it, and I always just fall back to "äiti.") Meanwhile, Jessica hears the same "tha-tha" sound and she goes, "yeah, titta." "Titta" means "look" in Swedish.
And yet, Hannes may mean neither of the two. Or, he might be saying, "look, ma!"
Workin' fer a livin' They're coming to take me away, ha ha, they're coming to take me away, ho ho. My vacation is officially over 00.00 tonight, and it's time for me to return to the office tomorrow morning.
I can't say that I am looking forward to a lot of stuff there and I know for sure I am going to miss being around Jessica and Hannes. We've had such a blast this summer, and seeing Hannes learn new things every day is something I don't want to miss out on. I really don't.
So, I guess I will have to either deal with it and not do anything or deal with it in some other way, and try to solve the problem.
The good thing in all this is that Hannes has just learned to wave hello and goodbye, so he can see me off to work tomorrow morning.
Blood on the floor I know that the title of ths entry may get you thinking about Michael Jackson, and even if Hannes does have some pretty extraordinary moves when he gets going, he's no King of Pop. And this blog is about ... well, yeah, it's changed over the past year that I have been writing it .. but it's not about Michael Jackson, that's for sure.
When I was a kid and would hit a body part on a piece of furniture, my Dad would always grab my hand and take me to the piece of furniture to see that "nothing had happened to it" as if he had cared more for a chair than my chin. I actually did the same thing with Hannes two days ago, when he hit his head on a door here. It was still funny to me.
But, speaking of hitting stuff, I think I wrote pretty soon after Hannes was born something about what it might feel like to see Hannes bleed for the first time.
Now I know.
Hannes was minding his own business on the kitchen floor yesterday when he fell from the carpet and and just fell flat on his face into the floor. That was definitely a slo-mo shot if we were in a movie. Both Jessica and I saw him fall and I managed to do was lean forward and take my hands to my temples. Jessi leaped over to Hannes and picked him up from the floor.
And there it was, that first drop of blood, in the corner of his mouth, right next to one of his shiny-white new teeth. Hannes had probably forgot about it ten minutes later, but his swollen upper lip reminded me of our son's little accident all day.
Hannezzzz One of things I am still pretty confused with is how small children, babies, sleep. More importantly, why don't they want to sleep? Why fight against sleeping when it is obvious that they are tired and need to sleep.
Í have heard the theory about babies being worried about losing their Mom and Dad, that they won't be there when they wake up, but even if I believed in that one, I still think it's fascinating how the mind rules over the body. "Yeah, I'm tired, and I kinda know that sleeping would help, but I'll be damned if I fell a sleep, cuz Mom and Dad may disappear." Aren't they never worried that their tired crankiness would drive the parents away? Heh, no.
Hannes definitely doesn't wanna sleep (well, to be honest, I don't either...) and he can fight it off pretty long. And then he can just pass out. While catching his breath, and getting ready for another rebel yell, he falls asleep.
My father's grandson Hannes has been on the move all summer. In at least two ways. First, he has really learned to take himself to places on his own, and second, we have been traveling between and in Sweden and Finland quite a but.
We're currently at his grandpa's. My Dad's place, that is. I just love watching my father play with and hold my son.
My grandfather, my father's father, died when I was four, so I never really got to know him, which is a shame. Fortunately, Hannes gets a chance to get to know his grandfather.
My Dad calls Hannes (this would be the English translation) "Guy" all the time. Some times it's "Big Guy." Then, at times, he just looks at Hannes and says, "Hannes!"
Right now, they're in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Big Guy and, well, Big Guy.
All four Hannes It's official - I AM the funniest man in the world. I mean, it doesn't take that much to make Hannes smile or even laugh a little, but it's not that easy to make him laugh out loud. Loud.
Like I've said before, there's no telling in advance what Hannes think is funny. And the things that are funny today, can really be so not funny tomorrow. It's a challenge that keeps me on my toes, but the reward is also that much better. There is nothing better than hearing Hannes laugh his high-pitch giggle.
Anyway, I had no idea he would think it was going to be funny when I dove on to the floor and started crawling like him. I would go forward and backwards, and Hannes lied on the floor, oozing happiness with his entire body, slapping the floor and laughing. And I laughed and slid on the floor, and Hannes laughed. Jessica stood behind me and looked like she was gonna cry. But she laughed. And Hannes and I laughed and slid on the floor. It was great.
Good morning Too bad I don't have any photos of Hannes's two teeth, because they're really cute. Only 18 to go, this time around, I read somewhere. We can already see four (!) new ones coming through up there.
That also means that Hannes has a little trouble sleeping, I guess his gums are itching like crazy. I got up at 4 a.m. this morning and we watched a James Bond ("From Russia with Love") together. It reminded me of the first weeks after Hannes was born, when I sat by the kitchen table, holding him, and surfing the net.
Hannes and the Order of Phoenix Well, Harry isn't the only special boy with the initials "HP" in the world, you know. There's one very special HP sleeping about 5 ft from me and my computer. Not sure what kind of magic he possesses, but I know he wraps people around his finger just like that.
We're on our vacation in Hannes's other home country, Sweden, and there are many aunts and uncles and grandma's and grandpa's to meet - and in Hannes's case, charm.
We've been away for a little over a week, and this much has happened in Hannes's World:
1) There are two more teeth pushing through his pink gums.
2) He totally gets up and stands against a sofa on his own.
3) He went from eating half a banana to eating a whole banana today (which means that he can hang out with me all day).
4) He can crawl both forward and backwards, instead of just backwards.
5) Not everybody agrees with this, but according to Jessica's brother, Hannes can say, "Jocke."
Hannes learns something new every day. And so do we. What a blast!
Streets of Helsinki Ever since Hannes was born, I have been looking at celebrities and thinking, "I bet his Mom and Dad couldn't see this one coming!" (Unless you're Mrs. Spears).
Jessica and I saw Bruce Springsteen in Helsinki this Tuesday, and somewhere in the middle of the "well, I got this guitar and I learnt how to make it talk"-solo I got the same feeling all over me again. I bet little Brucey's parents couldn't tell their son would grow up to be a megastar. And I decided, right there and then, with the sun setting over Helsinki, that I will always give Hannes whatever support he needs to pursue his dreams, whether he wants to become a rock star, a hockey player, a painter or a bus driver. Not because I would try to make him a star, but because while looking at 53-year-old Brucey goof around the stage, I was convinced that you're happierst when you get to do the things you want to do.
Aunt's world It's been six months since I wrote about Aunt Jenny. Well, not my Aunt Jenny, but Hannes's. The reason for that is that Jenny has been in Chile for the past six months and even if we have got awesome reports from her, she hasn't been here.
Until yesterday.
Last time Hannes saw Jenny, she was just a ... heh, you know what I mean: Last time Hannes saw Jenny, he could hardly see. Both their lives have changed in the past six months (I haven't heard 1% of the things she has seen or done in Chile) and Hannes has gone from being a cute baby to being a cute bigger baby.
It's good to see them together. Hannes needs to learn to respect the Godmother, right? Right.
Just do it Days just flash by, and there are many stories I should remember to tell you about, but haven't.
Hannes is doing great. Jessica and I were talking about it today that actually, human child becomes a real person and a member of his community really fast. The first three months are a blur, but now Hannes is a member of our team just like we are.
Anyway, the big news is that Jessica ... no, she's not pregant...
The big news is that Jessica is launching a Web site aimed at Swedish speaking parents in Finland. Cool, eh?
I love you tooth, two The first one isn't completely up yet, but Hannes's second tooth is already showing. That means twice the amount of saliva, and twice the amount of chewing stuff.
The boys are back in town Last night was Girls' Night Out - which automatically means that it was Guys' Night Watching TV. Jessica went out for the first time since Hannes was born, and she somehow talked herself into leaving Hannes for more than two hours. I think the record stood at two hours and 12 minutes. That was the longest Jessica had been away from Hannes. But, as all records, that one was meant to be broken.
So, Jessica left at 7.30. Hannes fell asleep at 8.20. At 8.35, I lifted Hannes into his trolley and we walked down to the restaurant Jessica was at. Basically, if Mom is eating out, so is Hannes. I waited by the Trivial Pursuit machine (entered the top 10 at #7). It was the girls' night out, after all.
Then Hannes and I walked home (you know what I mean) and watched Superman II for a while. Hannes got bored pretty soon (the opening flashback IS way too long) so I got to do my Elvis impersonation again. Opened with a medley: Don't Be Cruel - Heartbreak Hotel - Teddy Bear - All Shook Up. Closed with a medley: Don't Be Cruel - Heartbreak Hotel - Teddy Bear - All Shook Up. Encore: Finnish folk song.
Gently laid Hannes in his bed.
Watched Superman II some more.
Woke up and went to bed all male bonded for the night. Woke up to Jessica coming home, setting the new record at 4 hours.
To dive for I guess it was bound to happen. I mean, no matter how hard or much we try to protect Hannes, or how much we hold him in our arms, this day was going to come. I'd rather it hadn't happened, but then again, maybe it's good for him.
He fell today.
Or, "fell" is actually a wrong word. He basically just tipped over. On his face. Lip first. Not even his ultracute cheeks could dampen the blow. And it may all seem funny in a few years, a few months even, but right now Jessica and I feel like crap. If somebody rang at the door now, we would probably expect it to be the authorities that take Hannes away from us.
Oh, the despair.
How could we let him get hurt like that? Shouldn't it have been obvious to us that he could get hurt sitting on the floor? Yes. Absolutely. Maybe that's why we had the pillow behind him...
June 3: Hannes placed on the inury reserve. Swollen lip. Day-to-Day.
Tooth and nail So, there we were, all three of us. I held Hannes on my knees, and sat on the toilet seat. Jessica stood in front of us, between the seat and the mirror.
It was time to brush the tooth. For the first time.
Obviously, the brushing did some good because Hannes wouldn't let go of the tooth brush. I don't think he really cared about his dental hygiene that much, but maybe the brushing brought some instant relief to his itching little gums. And now the tooth shines whiter than ever, every time Hannes smiles.
Pride and joy My cousin graduated from high school today, and there was a big garden party at their house. The entire family and all relatives were invited. We got all dressed up - Hannes got to wear his new shirt and pants for the first time - and drove up to their house. It was a sunny and beautiful day.
I am repeatedly amazed at what a baby does to people. There were people that I have known my entire life (literally) at the party behaving nothing like the peopl I have known all my life. Literally. We had been at the party for about 10 minutes when my aunt's husband asked if he could hold Hannes. And from there on the line just grew longer: my parents, my aunt, my cousin, my aunt, my cousin... even my grandma's brother's wife got on her knees in the grass to make funny faces at Hannes. And Hannes rewarded it giving her his biggest smile. Meanwhile, I was sitting somewhere, chatting with an aunt of my own, while keeping my eye on Hannes all the while.
Francis wrote once that baby smell should be bottled and sprayed at people at riots. Or something. I agree. I think babies should be taken into business meetings as well, just to make everybody act human. Stop the mind games.
Hannes's Dad goes sailing Tomorrow, I will go sailing with my team at work. And since I am a terrible leaver and since our mornings at home are just too damn cozy and nice, I really don't wanna go. I know I am going to have fun (although I don't really like water, or toughing it out in the woods) I also know I am going to miss waking up to Hannes laughing and Jessica trying to catch one extra z.
Pause for applause I got a big lesson of positive feedback yesterday. Hannes gave it to me.
We were (read: Hannes was) lying on the washing machine, getting ready for a diaper change when I started to play our usual "Hannes runs, Hannes runs, Hannes runs .... Hannes jumps!" game. (We'll change it to "Hannes shoots, Hannes shoots ... Hannes scores" in a few years). But this time, Hannes would just flex all the muscles in his legs so that he looked like a future Olympic skeleton rider.
I was impressed by his strong legs, really. So, I smiled and clapped my hands.
Hannes smiled his one-toothed smile back at me.
So I clapped my hands some more and yelled, "wow, Hannes, awesome!!"
And he did it again. And I was just as impressed. So he did it again. And I clapped my hands. And Hannes flexed his legs. And I yelled and applauded. And he... you get the point. It was very impressive to see him impress me.
And seriously, he does have really strong legs. I wasn't just pretending.
I love you, tooth Hannes being our first - and only, at least for now - child, we're going through a whole bunch of firsts these days. Hannes's first summer, our first summer as parents, Hannes's first ball, Hannes's outgrowing his first clotes, Hannes being sick for the first time... well, you get the point.
So, you can just imagine how overwhelmed we were when we noticed that Hannes is teething. His first tooth! Lower left. Could it be the most beautiful tooth in the world? It could and it is. It first showed up on Saturday, at 9.35 a.m. Both Hannes and Tooth are doing well, Jessica and I are tired, but happy.
We don't get to see the tooth much, with Hannes stuffing his mouth with all kinds of things. But it's there, and it's his first. 19 to go.
G'night, drive safe "Hey, hey, hey, heyyyyyyyya, heyyyyyyyyah, how're ya doing, how you doing, you doing ok?"
[giggles]
"Yeah, yeah, YEAH, yeah, YEAH, yeah, YEAHAHAHAHAHAHAH"
[laughs]
"Prrrrrrrrrrrr!!"
[banging of the table] THUMP, THUMP, THUMP
"BBRRBBBRBRBRB"
[more banging of the table, laughs]
"Check this out, baby, check this out" [throws a raisin in the air, catches it in his mouth]
[loud giggle, laughing, banging of the table]
"You liked that, eh? You like it? Let's see if I can do it again ... PPPRRRPRPRPRPRRRR" [makes a weird sound with lips]
[staring]
"BRBBRPPRRBBRRRPPRRR"
[laughs, banging of the table]
[man throws a raisin in the air, catches it in his mouth]
[GIGGLES, LAUGHS, DROOLING!]
"Thanks, Hannes, you've been a great audience, g'night, sweet dreams, see ya tomorrow!"
Hungry like a wolf How many times have I said that Hannes is a very cool, calm and collected little guy -- and very nice. He's more often happy than not, and wakes up with a smile on his face. Really.
The only time he screams or cries or fights against us beyond any control or reason (yes, I do try to discuss the matter with him in a civilized kinda sorta way), is when he's hungry. When he's hungry and tired, you'd better get outa his way, because nothing will stop him from getting food.
As long as it's kept in a breast container and attached to Jessi and he is carried to it. But you know what I mean. I am sure that he will learn to walk one night when he's hungry. He'll just get up and grab something from the fridge.
Dad mad When I was a kid - this according to a fairly well documented family legend - whenever people would get angry with me (after I had done something I shouldn't have), I always said: "You shouldn't get angry with me, because that would make me sad." Apparently, it worked well for me when I was like 4.
I felt like that last night, when Hannes (!) got very upset with me, for some weird reason. Whether it was the fact that he hadn't seen me all day, or that I showed up home with two friends, smelling slightly of beer, but he simply refused to be near me. He freaked out and cried his cute little cheeks off, when I tried to hold him. And if that wasn't enough, he surely rubbed it in by smiling the sunniest smile at Jessica when she came to his rescue.
I really felt like a piece of shit stuck on a sole of a boot. I was simply not worthy. So I went to bed and dreamt about Hannes peeing straight onto some old lady's face, and the old lady demanding money from me, for damages.
And then I got up early in the morning when I heard moaning from Hannes's bed. I picked him up and managed to get a smile out of him. And I was so happy. I was ecstatic. I was ready to be the Superdad I wanna be. This would be the day we do some serious bonding, I thought.
Jessica said, "It's 5.15 ... five in the morning ... but I can feed him."
I laid Hannes next to Jessica and held his little hand. And fell asleep.
That weird old lady had disappeared. Superdad was back.
The tables have turned It's been a week since my last entry. I haven't really had the energy to write anything, I have been travelling and stuff.
The good news is that Hannes is feeling well. The bad news .. Jessica and I are sick. We both threw up last night, and are now two zombies walking around in slo-mo. Hannes is the happiest of us, but of course I'm a little worried about us getting pulled into a very vicious circle where we keep passing the stomach flu around to each other.
I would love to stick around and tell you more about Hannes's latest tricks, but ... I gotta run. If you know what I mean.
Hannes Pukerinen He launched the first one at 11.59 a.m. The second one, equally powerful, saw the light of day at about 2.30 p.m. And there would be six more in the next 16 hours. Fountains of puke, that is. And when I say fountains, I mean fountains.
When I was in high school, a friend of mine used to draw a picture of a Roarman all over the place. It was a picture of a cartoon guy, that vomited so that his entire mouth was filled with puke, like playing backwards a film where somebody hoses some puke into his mouth.
For some very weird reason, Hannes was Roarman for 18 hours. He puked 8 times in 18 hours. He ate about 7 times in those 18 hours. What was weird about the whole thing (he's fine now, and demands my attention ;) was that he would puke, Jessica and I would semi-freak out and Hannes would just laugh. Same thing every time. He would play with his toys or something, then puke, and just laugh and continue whatever he was doing.
Family reunion I have been riding my bike to work the past few days, and I have listened to this one song over and over again. It's a Hootie & the Blowfish cover of a New Grass Revival song, "Let Me Be Your Man." I love Darius Rucker's voice, I think he is The Man, but there are also two lines of text that I thought capture a lot of love in a way I always wanted to capture it:
"My love depends on you,
It grows, it blows, it flows by you."
I¨m off to Stockholm tomorrow morning. It'll be great to see Jessica and Hannes again
Double or nothing Got a letter from the poh-lice today. They want me (or my representative) to go to the Immigration Office and get the court decision that makes Hannes a Finnish citizen. I (or my representative) have to do that within 30 days from today. What's a little peculiar is that I (or my representative) should take my own passport (or my ID card or those of my representative's) AND Hannes's passport.
I (and my representative) think that's a little odd.
Which passport? The Swedish passport? Surely not. How could he get a Finnish passport if he's not a citizen? Oh well, I am sure there's a logic here somewhere but I am just too tired to figure it out. (Actually, I don't think there's any logic, ever since that Y77 episode)
However, Hannes is now a Finn! And a Swede! Just imagine those headlines in the sports sections. (Swede Finnish, anyone?) Oh yeah!
Jessica and I decided that Hannes is not half-Finnish, half-Swedish. He's not half-anything. He's twice everything.
My song is your song, Hannes Kas, on Mikki merelle lähtenyt, pikku kaarnapurrellaan,
ja vaikk' onkin tuuli vain yltynyt, Mikki laulaa innoissaan:
Hii-u-li-hei ! Huolta nyt ei ! Merimies näin käy merta päin !
Hii-u-li-hei ! Merimies ei pelkoa tunne ei !
Ja kun aallot Mikkiä keinuttaa, kotirannat kauas jää.
Oi, oi, mikä kummitus tuolla ? Haa ! Mikki aivan säikähtää.
Oi-oi-oi-oi ! Pelkään jo, voi ! Armoa suo, vie emoni luo !
Oi kiltti peikko, olen niin heikko, pelasta, auta oi !
Myrsky nyt purtesi hävittää. Tyi räh-häh häh-häh-häh-hää.
Vaan, mik' ihme ! Valkea lintunen yli kuohuin kiitää päin.
Kas noin ! Suomen Joutsen käy auttamaan,
ja nyt laulu soi taas näin; Hii-u-li-hei ! Huolta nyt ei !
Merimies näin käy merta päin ! Hii-u-hei ! Merimies ei pelkoa
tunne ei !
"...how wonderful life is, now you're in the world."
[Echo, echo, echo] I just heard noise from the bedroom so I stopped typing for a second to listen what it was. Maybe Hannes had woken up. Then I realized that Hannes isn't even at home - he and Jessica flew to Stockholm on Saturday morning. That leaves me here listening to the sounds of silence and commenting TV shows to myself. In Swedish.
Hannes is only five months old, but it feels like he has always been a part of our team. It feels strange to think that we haven't always had him. And then it feels even stranger to think that he won't remember any of the things that we do now, not the first trip to Stockholm, not having his first cold, not how we always wake up together or how he takes showers with Jessi. That's really too bad.
Anyway, I am home alone again, and I spend a lot of time sitting by the computer, doing stuff, and every once in a while checking out Jessica's Hannes site, and especially this photo:
Beat of a different drummer Hannes had a field trip today. He took Jessica out to "open day care" center in Vantaa, close to where Hannes's friend, Linnéa and Jessica's friend, Frida, live. Coincidentally, Frida is Linnéa's mother.
They had sung songs and played different instruments (Hannes got the two pieces of wood that I always got at school, what a fine family tradition) and networked. OK, I know, I take it back. Not everything is about networking, sometimes, most of the times, it's all about hanging out. So, Hannes was hanging out.
I really would have wanted to see Hannes with the other kids, just to see how he reacts when he sees other children. He hasn't really been around other children that much, you know. According to Jessica, he had just looked at everything and everybody with his big, blue eyes. And of course clapped those two pieces of wood.
And if he's anything like me, he probably closed his eyes and played the air drums a bit, too.
Holy crap! Yes, we have finally made it to the main topic of all families with small babies: poop, crap, shit, you name it. A colleague of mine told me that when her husband calls her, the first words are, "has he done it?" It sounded a lot funnier until I started saying the same thing to Jessica when I call her.
Hannes has been eating small portions of solid food for 10 days now, and he has shit twice. (That last meaning opens a whole new discussion, or two, I know. I am saving them to the days when I have nothing to write about, but just for the record: I don't really know the different conjugations of "shit", and I am not sure if 4-month old babies even shit in the first place).
I do know, though, that once Hannes released the bomb last Saturday, I was ready to put it in the oven and save the dried specimen for future generations. It was a masterpiece. And it most definitely made Hannes feel a lot better.
The next big event was tonight, four days after the Big Dung, so the intervals are getting shorter.
Rockin' and a-rollin' This is actually still just a rumor, but I heard it from a very reliable source. I am not going to name names, but I trust my source one hundred percent, and if she says that our son rolled from back to his stomach, I am going to believe it.
Yes! Hannes has now taken the first, um, movement towards taking the first step. Amazing! Only a few weeks ago, we had to support his head because he just was. Now, grabbing objects - hair is definitely an object - making funny noises, turning around in all ways imaginable (like, waking up with his feet on the pillow), and practically sitting up on his own. There is nothing this kid can't do, I am telling ya!
Lippin' out You know how they say that your life just flashes before your eyes, when you're in an accident or something. Well, my entire life dosn't flash before my eyes when Hannes gives me the lip. However, HIS entire life flashes before my eyes when I see it. Giving the lip is the 2-second calm before the storm.
I think adults should use that more often, too. It's so honest.
"So, Risto, what do you think of the proposal?"
[lip]
"OK, forget it then, it was just a proposal, we'll think of something new. OK? Good, good."
Hi, ho, it's off to work we go Or, not we, I. It's off to work I go. After four weeks of 100 percent domestic life, it was interesting to sit in three back-to-back meetings from 9 to 12. I really, seriously, question our way of life, and the constant pursuit of wealth, I guess. Oh well, I won't bore you with that. You've got your own issues, I am sure. Heh.
But since I am but a poor man's poor man and I need to work, it feels really good to have been at home and having established a real contact with Hannes. I don't know what he thinks about it, but I feel like I really know him.
I know what makes him laugh, and how to dress him so he doesn't get upset (leave the little hat as the last item), what he sounds like when he's just about to fall asleep, how he shakes his just-a-tad-too-heavy-for-his-body head and looks around curiously, and how he looks at Jessica after he's had a little milk.
And I still get to get up at 5.25 if Hannes wakes up. He's got a lock on that slot in my calendar.
Hot potato It was a big weekend for all of us. For one, Saturday was Hannes's 4-month-birthday. So Jessica, Hannes and I huddled up around the laptop and looked at old photos of Hannes. "Those were the days," Hannes said. Well, no, Hannes said, "eeeeeaaaaaaahhheeaaaawwwww" but I could tell by the look on his face.
To celebrate his four glorious months on Planet Earth, and our four educating months as parents, we cooked a potato. I know, that may sound like Finland is a third world country, but it's really not that bad. What made that particular potato special was the fact that it was the first ever potato to go down Hannes's throat.
I think we can officially call Hannes a "Big Boy" now. Big boys eat potatoes.
Who's your Daddy? Communicating with Hannes is an art form. And like with any form of art, you either get it, or you don't. And if you don't, you end up feeling stupid while those who get it seem to enjoy it tremendously.
Jessica gets it. She is so on the same wavelength with Hannes that to me, they seem to be talking.
I am not saying that I don't get it because I do. (Hannes is already bilingual, it seems). I can tell when he's bored because he is worming in his baby sitter and basically yelling something that sounds like a command. I hear him say, "Get me out of this baby sitter, right now." You know, I have written about it before.
Thsi morning I got up to do something. Hannes was in our bed because Jessica had just fed him. And when I got back, Hannes yelled something that sounded like "POW!" Jessica interpreted it as "pappa." Smart kid.
A second later, he said, "AEEEW!" which naturally is Hannesian for "äiti" which is Finnish for "mother."
So, here we are, Pow, Aew and Hannes. All is well.
Like father, like son Unfortunately, in this case, that means that Hannes has also caught a cold. His first. The upside of it all is that he's as happy as before, and since it's his first cold and he's not supposed to be doing anything else, he's not trying to fake it and make it sound even worse. The downside is of course, that he's coughing and sneezing a lot. Not to mention that he snores.
He also seems to have a slight habit of whining. And I mean that in the most concrete meaning of the word. When I pick him up and we walk around the apartment, Hannes leans against my shoulder and moans and whines, "aaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeeeaaaaaaeeeeeeeee", like .... a hoarse wolf.
The antidote to that is me singing "Heartbreak Hotel."
Splitting hairs When I was a kid, I always thought people who started their stories by saying, "when I was a kid" always talked a little too long. They were never as funny as they thought and their stories always had some sort of a lesson in it. And here I am "when I was kid"ing away. Who am I kidding? I'm probably just as boring as they were. Gotta ask my godson Jesse next time we meet.
Anyway, I was about to say that I have never had a big life vision, not even when I was a kid. When other guys always seemed to know exactly what the love of their lives would look like, I never had any image of it. Nor did I see my dream house, car, job, boss... And you can bet your cute little behind that I never had any mental images of my future children.
How could I? I couldn't even picture their mother.
Oh well. Had I had an image of my son, there is one thing Hannes has that I most definitely wouldn't have dreamt of. Curly hair.
Except for that one bald spot, the size of my palm, in the back. But I assume that's only temporary.
Sick and tired I have a cold. And I am one of those hyperactive people that are always doing stuff, never sitting still. Unless the doing requires sitting still. Like reading. Although, that can be done lying down, too.
Anyway, I am not feeling too hyperactive today, I think I have a little fever.
When I was sick as a kid, and would have to stay at home, my Dad always had the same recipe: bananas, orange soda, some candy, TV and a Donald Duck comic book. It worked every time. It's a concept I will definitely pass on to the next generation, that's for sure.
Anyway, I have my soda, candy and D. Duck comic book by the sofa, so you know where you'll find me. The good news is that Hannes will get a new Donald Duck comic tomorrow. He subscribes to it, you see.
Blood, sweat and tears, part III: blood When Jessica was feeling her worst a few weeks ago, she would quite often look at Hannes and think that she didn't love him enough. That's what she told me. She would be weeping, and saying, "I just don't care enough about him, every other Mom loves her baby more than I do." And I would almost always reply the same way: "I am sure that if Hannes were to cut himself and bleed, you would probably give anything to make the bleeding stop, right?"
And she would nod.
"That's what I call love," I would say.
We had this conversation a couple of times, and each time we just concluded how lucky we were for not having seen Hannes's blood anywhere yet. Blood seems always so serious. And the funny thing is, we know that he will hurt himself sooner or later, and that he will bleed.
That's why we have the Mickey Mouse bandaid. Except that they're mine.
Blood, sweat and tears, part II: tears I have never seen Hannes cry. Sure, he screams and he can shake his whole 7-kilo body in a way that I know he's upset or angry or maybe even sad. But I have never seen him cry so that there have been tears on his cheeks. I thought I saw a tear once, but that was a few weeks back and since it hasn't happened since, I am pretty sure I imagined the whole thing.
Not that I want him to cry. It is just one of these things you (I) hardly ever even think about, and when you start thinking about it, you become almost obsessed by it.
The only time Hannes has been close to really crying is when he fights against falling asleep. At first I didn't understand it at all - why would he fight it? - and then I realize that I am exactly the same. I have never enjoyed sleeping just for its own sake, I have never been a hobby sleeper, like some of my friends. I guess I just don't wanna miss a thing.
Blood, sweat and tears, part I: sweat I am sitting by the kitchen table, with Hannes in his baby sitter, on the table, right next to my laptop. (Don't tell Jessica, she is very safety-oriented, in a Swedish way, and would certainly be very worried about this setup is she saw it. She's a sleep now).
Anyway, Hannes is looking at me from his chair, and sometimes he yells (yes, yells!) something to get my attention. And then I turn to him and I kiss his feet. And while I kiss his feet, I realize two things
One) He should get changed. I know that sweet smell. nd I think that I just love that smell. I must be nuts.
Two) His feet are sweaty. I have never seen Hannes sweat, so I am a little surprised. His feet must be the only place he sweats at (The feet I just kissed).
I will get back to my research and report about my findings. Excuse me, I have to stick my nose into Hannes's armpit.
Mirror, mirror, on the wall Oh yes, Hannes just loves the mirror. I will walk to the mirror, and hold Hannes on my shoulder so that he's facing the mirror, but I am not. He will then look at his reflection for a second or two, and then burst out laughing. What's really interesting, though, is that right after that he buries his face into my arm - as if he was too shy to look at himself.
Voulez-vous je suis le Jacque Chirac? When I was a little boy, I couldn't say R properly. I couldn't even pronounce S, which was pretty damn shame, considering my name was - surprisingly - Risto. My parents made me feel better by saying that it didn't matter that I couldn't say a proper, rolling Finnish R. "You can speak perfect French later on, don'tcha worry about a thing, son." (Actually, they never called me "son.")
Unfortunately, there aren't too many rolling r's in the one word of French I managed to mutter last time I was in Paris. "Un ... one of those things", pointing to a croissant.
The funny thing is that Hannes gets a big kick out of us speaking French to him. He laughs and laughs and just can't get enough of our yapping. Only, since I still can't speak French, I just mumble meaningless sentences, such as "je suis jacques chirac et comme ci comme ca, c'est la vie oui oui."
Mister Mom Jessica is on sick leave now, inasmuch as you can take sick leave from maternity leave. It sounds as unreal as it is; Jessica can't take a leave from being Hannes's mother. What it means is that when she is on her sick leave, she can save up her maternity leave days for later.
It also means that I am on a four-week paternal leave now. For those of you who think that government takes care of us all in Finland, I can just say that it is basically an unpaid leave of absence from work, but I will get about 50 percent of my pay from the "government." (No need to go into details which part of the G pays that compensation).
It feels good to be at home, it really feels like that's exactly where I need to be now. It'll be fun, too, we can do whatever we want and there are no meetings, no schedules, no projects to take care of.
Hopefully there will be more time for me to write this blog as well.
Dad knows best When I was a little kid, I though my Dad had the biggest forearms in the world. And that was cool. I kept looking at my own 6-year-old-forearms wondering whether I could ever, in a million years, have forearms that thick. To be absolutely honest, I was still looking at my forearms at the age of 16 and wondered about the same thing.
And just for the record: no, my Dad is not or was not the strongest man in the world.
I was thinking of that one particular time at the sauna when my Dad showed me that he couldn't get his fingers around his wrist this morning when Hannes grabbed my hand. His hand was so small and finally my forearms seemed ... not huge, but just, um, solid. A man's arms.
Genius! I think Hannes is a genius. Right now, as I am writing this entry, he's sitting in his baby sitter with his "gym" (colorful plastic things that make noises) above him. He holds one piece in his left hand and spins the little ball inside the piece with his write hand. And makes mental notes about how it works AND he gives us the color commentary as well. He's been doing that for about 20 consecuive minutes now.
While holding his head up all by himself.
You just don't think of him as a genius because he's wearing diapers and has a bald spot in the back of his head for all the lying down he does. But he may be thinking something smart all that time. He might.
Look who's talking There are two clichés about babies that I would like to shoot down. One, "babies grow so fast, every day is such a unique experience" and two, "it doesn't matter whether it's a boy or a girl, as long as s/he's healthy."
I am always pretty skeptical about clichés so call me cynical if you want. (Keeping that in mind, isn't "i hate clichés" the ultimate cliché?)
So, when Hannes was born, I really wanted to shoot down those two. But I couldn't. I can't. And now I don't want to. Now I repeat those two sentences to all my friends right after, "what a nice day."
I mean, Hannes grows every day, and he makes new discoveries every day, and I would really want to be with him when he makes those discoveries. The other day, he "found" his hand. He was waving his hands like a madman - again - when he all of a sudden stopped, pulled his hand right in front of his face and examined his hand, first visually, then tasting it. Then he looked at me doing a standing ovation. Today, he started to "talk." And I am pretty sure his first words were: "Standing ovation? Pour moi?"
Two: it really doesn't matter if it's a boy or a girl, and as the most loyal of my readers (thanks Jessica, thanks Mom, Dad, thanks Pinseri) remember, we really thought we'd bring a baby girl home. Hilda. So, when he made his grand entré into our world about three months ago, the first thing I checked was that he was ok. And then, whether it was a boy or a Hilda. And I fell in love the very second I could see anything from behind the big hospital bed.
The first three months have been quite overwhelming, in every way imaginable. But I wouldn't trade them for anything.
Tunnel at the end of the light Have you ever got lost? Ever got lost in a city, like Paris, where the streets aren't straight so that you end up walking in circles even when you think you're going right towards your hotel. What makes it even more frustrating is the fact that you can see the Eiffel Tower all along and still can't navigate right. Ever been in that situation?
Ever driven a car in a blizzard? At night? You know how the snowflakes flying against the windshield start to look like stars in "Star Wars" when they hit warp speed. Everything gets weird and skewed. You know for a fact that you're only going 30 kmph, but your brain is telling you you're going warp speed.
That's where we're at, it seems like. We're driving the streets of Paris in a blizzard at night.
We have lots of food with us, so don't you worry about us. We'll get there. Hannes, Jessica and I.
Be my Valentine My plan worked out perfectly. I got up at 6.45 and I am pretty sure Jessica thought I got up to take care of Hannes. Which I did, but I also made breakfast and wrapped up Jessica's present.
I am pretty damn proud of the present: it was a tiny notebook that I had painted red. It is Jessica's Happy Book. On each page I wrote something to be happy about. Like, you know, the usual: "Remember Paris?", "VEGAS, BABY!", "My hairy guy loves me," an outline of my hand etc. So, that whenever she feels a little down or depressed, she can pull that thing out of her pocket, open it on a random page and there is something that reminds her of all the reasons she can be happy for.
Oh, I also booked a hotel room for us in Tampere this weekend. A suite with a sauna. Yeah, baby!
PS. Hannes did sing parts of "Happy birthday," too
Tomorrow, tomorrow In about seven hours, I will try to get up and make some breakfast, put it all on a tray and carry it back to the bedroom. Then I will pick Hannes up, and lay him on my pillow, next to Jessica. If everything goes really well, Hannes will wake up, too, and join me in my "Happy birthday, Jessica" song.
But of course, I can't plan on that.
Tomorrow is Jessica's first birthday as Hannes's mother. This is the first time I have picked up a card that would be from me and Hannes, something I thought he would like to give his mother. I know he likes teddy bears so I chose a card witha teddy bear on it. I wrote "Happy birthday, Mom" on it, and signed it "Hannes."
Tomorrow is Jessica's day. (And yes, I just love the fact it also happens to be Valentine's Day but not because I would get away with it by getting her one present, au contraire, amigo). Tomorrow will be a great day. No bogeyman, no stress, no screaming babies, no panic about the future, no thinking about the day after tomorrow. And according to a tradition in Jessi's family, the birthday baby gets to choose what we will have for dinner. (Couscous and goat cheese).
Home alone Is it Tuesday? Please tell me it's Tuesday today. It's been eight days since Jessica and Hannes flew to Stockholm, and two days since I last saw them. And something weird happened during the first four days I didn't see them every day.
1) Minutes had more than 60 seconds.
2) Hours had more than 60 minutes.
3) There were more than 24 hours in a day.
4) Hannes became a big boy, with big diapers, who can roll from his tummy to his back. On purpose!
5) Hannes started to sleep all through the night, with the personal record being 11-to-8.
6) And I really missed Jessica, her laugh, her keeping me focused, her quiet chatting with Hannes in the bathroom, our talks and our walks.
7) Our bed seemed awfully big.
And these last two days, well, I have been busy vacuuming and cleaning up the house. I did spend four days alone there.
But today is Tuesday, and Hannes and Jessica will be coming home.
Good looks and crooked smile Hannes just charms everybody. And everybody says he looks like me. And, um, I can't believe I just wrote those two sentences right next to each other. My point is not that I just walk around this planet and charm people. Please. Really. Stop laughing.
What I was going to say was that it feels pretty weird to hear people say that Hannes is a "mini Risto." For one, I can't see so much of myself in him. Number two, there are moments when I think he is a spitting image of Jessica. And three, all my life, people have told me that I look just like my Dad. And it isn't always easy to break free from that, you know?
And yet it feels sooooooo good to hear that Hannes looks like me. So, if you've never met me, well, this is what I look like:
Hello, is this the Guinness Book of Records? The other day, as I was sitting here by the kitchen table that I bought from IKEA almost seven years ago and working on a memo to somebody important, I woke up to Jessica's scream. She yelled, "oh my God, my God, God, God, God" so many times that I knew it was something serious. So I ran into the bedroom and I see Hannes covered in his own vomit.
And I mean covered. Not just a little puke on the cheeks, which is pretty normal for any Finn, let alone a two-month old little guy. "It was unreal, I heard something from his bed so I turned to look and all I could see was this fountain of puke. I mean, it came straught up from his mouth, at least a half a meter," Jessica explained to me while we rushed into the bathroom.
Hannes threw up a little more, this time not defying the laws of gravity, and he landed his vomit on Jessica. She was the one holding Hannes, I was working the towel. We looked at each other, both with our own very-bad-case scenarios, I am sure. Then we turned to look at Hannes who lifted his head from Jessica's chest - and smiled. He just smiled as if nothing had happened.
So, we just smiled as well.
There is something about throwing up that I just think is a little scary. It seems so .. unnatural in a way. Anyway, it was our first incident at home. It felt good to get worried about Hannes, and even better to realize it was for nothing.
PS. The winner of the "Hannes Weight Watch" bet is "Godfather" who was closest with his 6102g. Hannes weighs 6275 g and is 59 cm long. Godfather, let's hope Hannes doesn't weigh 15 kg when you come to collect your prize.
You bet your life We signed up for a medical research group. Actually, we signed up Hannes. It's some vaccination project and according to our sources (Jessica's Grandpa), it's definitely worth doing. That's tomorrow.
It'll be a busy day for Hannes as he also has his medical where he gets measured and weighed. Jessica and I have made a bet about his weight and length, each time he has gone there, and I think I'm a little ahead now. Or, maybe it's a tie. ;)
But what do you think? How much will Hannes weigh tomorrow? How tall is the Guy? Here's some background data:
22 Nov: 3500g/50 cm; 9 Dec: 4030/52,5; 2 Jan: 5285/55; 17 Jan: 5630/57
Brave new world I have been chasing that smile for a couple of months now, so it feels really good to see Hannes smile every day now. Several times every day. And since he smiles, no, laughs with his entire body and teethless mouth when I make funny faces, the guy obviously has my sense of humor. Witty guy. Anyway, he is definitely turning into a real person with real feelings and emotions. So we can start playing a little.
We were wrestling today (meaning that I was lying on my back on our bed, holding Hannes on my stomach and rolling slightly from side to side. Not sure if Hannes realized he had me in such a dire situation...) when all of a sudden we heard a dog barking outside our window. Hannes's eyes got a little bigger, if possible, as he listened to the sound from outside. I looked him in the eye and said, "yes, Hannes, that's a dog. A dooooog."
And I realized he had never heard that sound before. Let alone seen a dog.
Come again? It seems to me that we have a pret-ty, um, goal-oriented son. Some people might call him stubborn, but since I am his father (pending the court order), I like to give everything a slightly more positive spin. This much is for sure, though: Hannes definitely knows what he wants, and when he wants it.
The only problem is that Jessica and I have no idea what he's talking about.
Hannes's language is like Chinese now. (Or, how people who can speak Chinese have explained the language to me). Basically, same expression can mean several things, and the big changes in the meanings depend on the subtle changes in the tone of how he says it. What means "I AM HUNGRY" now, sounds almost exactly like the "HEL-LOOH, ANYBODY THERE, I AM LYING ON MY BACK IN A BED AND IT'S BORING HEEEEEREEEE!" How frustrating it must be for him that we don't understand it right away. And he doesn't hide his frustration. On the contrary, he lays it out, and strangely enough, it sounds almost exactly like the "I AM HUNGRY" yell, too. You can tell that we have a vicious perpetual circle here.
Another thing that he has been doing lately, is change his daily rhythm. For almost a week, he slept from 11 to 7. Heaven. Good boy. Finally. He woke up at 4 am this morning, and what I thought sounded like a "HEL-LOOH, ANYBODY THERE, I AM LYING ON MY BACK IN A BED AND IT'S BORING HEEEEEREEEE!", so I just told him to go back to bed, was, in fact, a "I AM HUNGRY!" so I had to wake Jessica up. (We have a bottle ready for tonight).
It'll be nice to learn his language. I understand that this is a pretty common problem in the baby world. I mean, the only other explanation for this phenomenon would be that babies are evil.
PS. A visit to a real pro therapist today reminded me of the fact that a lot of times you realize stuff only when somebody else says it back to you. You have been battling with your problem, with no success, and then you repeat it all to a friend who says, "It seems to me as if you're..."
And you stop, and realize it's true. You had the answer all along, but were too busy solving your problem to see it.
So, it seems to me you're an intelligent and beautiful person and that you can accomplish anything, if you put your mind to it. *) Now say it out loud.
Home, sweet home I have been working from home the past week and a half. Basically, that means that I have read my email at our kitchen table and made a few phone calls during the day. And then occasionally, run into the office for a meeting with a client. And I can honestly say that my output is as good as usual. Or, at least I'd like to think so.
There is so much noise in the office; unnecessary meetings, meetings about meetings and post-meeting briefings.
So, it's a real win-win-win situation. I win, Jessica wins and Hannes wins. These days all three of us wake up slowly and stare at each other and smile. Jessica wakes up always first, because I sleep like a, um, baby and can't hear anything. It can take an hour for Hannes to wake up. He lies there and moans and groands, stretches all his limbs, and moans and groans. And farts and burps. And if everything goes really well, he'll wake up, open his eyes and see two huge faces about 15 cm from his face.
And then it's time for me to go to the office. And make breakfast for the family. Win-win.
The father, the son and the holy social services office All right! It's almost official now! I am almost Hannes's father now, and if you don't believe me, you can ask the Helsinki Social Services Office at Unioninkatu 18, 2nd floor. They have three documents with my signature on them to prove it.
First, Jessica had to testify that she hadn't had sex with anybody else between January 26 and March 15, 2002. She signed it on the dotted line. Then I had to sign the same document, waiving my rights to dispute my paternity.
Then we signed the document that gave us joint custody of Hannes.
And last, we signed a piece of paper that I don't even remember what it was for. Basically it was the same thing, I think.
Even though it was a highly bureaucratic event and not a bit ceremonial, beautiful or romantic, it was an important visit. What it means now, is that we can officially change Hannes's last name, get him the Finnish citizenship, and makes me his custodian as well.
While sitting there, we realized that even if we have talked about Hannes as, well, Hannes Pakarinen, his real name in the official papers has been something else. And then we started laughing, thinking that what if we simply forgot to inform the authorities. We could see Hannes at the age of 40, standing by a water cooler somewhere and telling his colleagues how, "my name is really just "Baby", "Baby Arhammar", but my Dad forgot to send in the papers ... so you can call me Hannes. Everybody else does." And how he would look the same as now, with his huge cheeks and pants pulled up to his armpits. And a little clip-on tie around his chubby neck. We laughed so we almost had tears in our eyes.
Gotta remember to send in the papers when they arrive from the court next week. Remind me of it.
Always look on the bright side of life It's been a busy few days. The good thing about Jessica and her family is that they are doers. Even when Jessica is depressed, she manages to pull herself out of the bed and makes herself do things and in this case, find help. (More info on PPD here).
We met with two therapists yesterday, and Jessica got to talk to somebody who we think can help her get throught this thing. We sat there, around that ultra-Finnish round Alvar Aalto-esque table (made out of birch), and the two middle-aged ladies listened. And then they listened. Even when Jessica didn't say anything, they listened to the silence. We all did. I thought the silence was awkward at first, but then it became comforting, in a way. It was as if they gave Jessica all the space in the world to throw her dark thoughts in, and she only managed to fill it a tiny bit. She will get through this and at the other end, you will be meeting a happy Jessica who probably knows herself better than before. A little stonger Jessica with insight to being a woman. And a Jessica that I can make laugh simply by dancing a little bit funny.
Hannes is doing well (he's a chubby little guy), and there are very few things that would make me happier than to pick Hannes up and take him to our bed, and see him wake up with a smile on his face. Right now, I can think of only one thing that would make me feel even happier. See Jessi wake up with a smile on her face.
The Mommy Returns Well, things aren't always what they seem. Like, the perfect little boy that I have been telling you about is almost too perfect. Which makes him imperfect. And that's the way we love him. But for instance, it is 00.25 now, and he's not asleep. I think he wants to be the last person to fall asleep in Finland tonight. Jessica is hopefully sleeping now, and I will turn in shortly but Jessi's mother ... she'll be walking a few miles around the 60 square meter apartment of ours.
Oh yeah, Jessica's mother's here. She arrived yesterday as entertaining troops. Jessica's been feeling a little down lately, a little sad, slightly moody, somewhat irritated, a tad .. depressed. There, I said it. Depressed.
The D-word has been something we haven't really talked about at home and even though Jessica was moody right after Hannes was born, we just shook it off. I think I was a little scared of it. I think we were a bit scared of it. Not anymore. We're in the midst of it now, but we're going to get on the homebound train as soon as there are available seats. The trip isn't long, but it may be bumpy.
Anyway, Jessica's mother is here to entertain Jessi, to give her support, and to give Jessica and I a chance to do something that does not involve poop, diapers and that you don't have to do with one hand only.
Basically, things are just slow here now, we take each day at a time, and focus on our little family. Isn't that how the entire universe is said to be moving? First Big Bang, then expansion, then inward again into one giant black hole only to explode again into a great big thing.
Scream 4 Ok, so he's not just quiet all the time. Sometimes Hannes screams. Sometimes he stops the second Jessica or I pick him up, but other times... well, he just screams his tiny, little lungs out. He screams like it's the end of the world as he knows it. He screams and screams and screams to the point where I literally just want to lift him up and shake him a little bit.
And I hold him in front of my eyes and I know I can't shake him. First, I know he's not doing it on purpose. Also, I know I can't reason with him. I know there isn't a deal I could offer him that would make him happy. Can't bribe him, can't threaten him. Even though I know everything about his short life, there isn't a dirty fact that I could use to extort him. And let's face it, the little man's already sleeping (and waking up) with a bunch of elefants, and Moomins and monkeys. One horse head wouldn't shake him.
So what is there to do?
We walk a lot. We walk both around the apartment, holding Hannes in our arms, and around the block, with Hannes in his limo. We pack the family in our car and drive away, which is fine with me, 'cause I like to drive. We change the diapers. We take showers. We get desperate.
And when Hannes falls asleep, we rush to do all the things we wanted to do today.
I know what I did last night Or, better yet, I know what I am going to do tonight. I am going to sit in front of the TV, watch a movie I have seen before and try to make Hannes happy. As Jessica's Mom says, "Today wasn't a good day to be Hannes." We have no idea why, but he has been restless and screamy all day.
Although, he has fallen asleep in my (or Jessica's) arms a couple of times throughout the day. He usually just lies there, and then every once in a while, opens his eyes just for half a second, as if to check that he's still there and not in his bed.
1 AH Happy New Year! 2003 .. doesn't the Millennium seem so distant? Y2K? Get outahere.
This is 1 AH, Anno Hannes.
I didn't make any New Year's resolutions this year (although I should, I'm on a three-year keeping-streak), but what I will do now is keep a promise I made to A. on New Year's Eve. She asked me to write something about the delivery.
Now, I have deliberately not written anything about it because it has just felt like such a personal experience of .. Jessica's that if anybody should tell stories about it, it should be her, not me. Then again, I can tell my side of the story and well, I did promise you . So, A. here we go:
Jessica had been pretty sick and tired with the whole belly for a couple of weeks, so she couldn't have been happier when the water broke on the 21 November at 5 a.m. She woke me up at 6. I can still see her standing in the shower, jumping up and down a bit, going, "it's so exciting, I can't believe it's happening now" and then, "Now what do we do?"
I suggested we eat breakfast, so we did. Tea, toast and read the newspaper. At quarter to seven, we put on our clothes and started walking towards the hospital. We live about 4 blocks from there, so it took us maybe 15 minutes to get there. It was snowing, and I wore rubber boots. I don't know why.
At 7.20, Jessica was lying on a hospital bed, with a machine attached to her belly, as they registered Hannes's (that we still called "Hilda" at the time) heartbeat, and Jessica's contractions. The heartbeat was around 80-100 and the contractions between 1- 21 .. units. We didn't know what the units were, so we jokingly called them "jävlar". As in, "oh, here's a big one, 21 jävlar!" (Note 1: "jävlar is Swedish for "damn." Note 2: Little did I know that 21 jävlar was not a big one by any means. Note 3: One of the few things that Jessica told me NOT to do was stare at the machine and tell HER when she would be having contractions. "I know, trust me").
About an hour later, Jessica took a shower and changed into the disgusting (but surely very comfortable) hospital clothes. And we were taken to the "Department" as the nurses called it. Jessi took a nap and I ran home, to call my office that I wouldn't be coming in for another six weeks and to get a deck of cards and Yatzy that we had forgot there.
Then we played Yatzy and basically just hung out, counting contractions and killing time. (I actually beat the family record in Yatzy, believe it or not).
By four p.m., the pain was getting worse. We were basically told that we wouldn't be taken to the actual delivery room until the contractions were 5 minutes apart. I would have faked it, but they brought one of those machines in again. This time it only recorded 12 jävlar which we took as a major setback. I just wanted them to take us to the delivery room so we could get ready, so that Jessica could start taking showers and crawling and I could give her massages and so on. No matter what the machne says, I could hear the jävlar getting a lot worse. And Jessica doesn't normally swear.
At six, I went looking for a nurse that would just tell us what the program was gonna be. And better yet, give Jessica something for the pain. And A, trust me, I am aaall for natural birth or active birth or whatever you wanna call it, but my major concern at that point was Jessica. As long as the baby was not gonna get hurt by the drug, I wanted them to give it to Jessi. (I think that she would have been able to hang on a little longer (had she wanted) if she had got the chance to do something else besides lie on a bed). She got a shot of something at 6.15 p.m. Exactly an hour later, we were taken to the delivery room.
The pain just wouldn't go away.
I was pleasantly surprised by the delivery room. It was pretty cozy actually. They had a TV there, a CD player, nice armchairs, a shower, curtains in the fake mirror window they had put up. I put on some Bo Kaspers Orkester and Jessica got another shot. Petidin, if I am not mistaken. I have learned so much from Jessica in three years, and one of the things I admire in her is the way she gets prepared for everything. She had studied everything about the different drugs, she had made lists of things, she knew the pros and cos, and I still get a little teary-eyed, when I think of her getting that shot of petidin. "Wait, wait, there is something about the drug, I should remember, there's something, can't you ask her what the disadvantages are, Risto." (At this point, our Swedish-speaking midwife hadn't entered the picture yet). And she was really worried. For me, like I said, "make the pain go away" was my motto. If I couldn't do it, maybe Mr. Petidin could. Of course, I did ask the nurse, and she said what they always say: "Naw, there aren't really any disadvantages."
Except for one.
It didn't work. Or, maybe it did, but I don't even want to imagine what the "jävlar" would have looked or sounded like without the drug. Bo Kaspers became Sinatra and our Swedish-speaking midwife, Benita, arrived. She took charge the second she walked in. Hannes and Jessica may have been the starts of the show, but it was Benita that was sitting in the director's chair. (That would make me a producer, I think). And she was good, very Finnish (meaning, no-nonsense small talk, but nice) and very professional. She gave Jessica the Epidural at 9.15 pm.
At 9.40 Jessica was trying to beat the Yatzy record, now held by me. We have a photo of her, making a toast to Epidural. Her short speech went, "Epidural to people."
And so it went. Yatzy, talking, Sinatra, Kajsa-Stina, Bo Kaspers taking turns, and just waiting. We had waited for nine months so we could wait a few more hours. As long as the epidural lasted. Jessi was opening nice and clean, so really, all we had to do was wait. The contractions hit a new high at midnight: 111 jävlar which I duly shouted out so that Jessica would be aware of it. Jessica was laughing through them.
Apparently, there is something special with this epidural thing, which launches a vicious circle to use more drugs. And as they added the other drug, to keep the contractions going, "Hilda's" heartbeat started to vary a lot. Everything from 50 to 200. Benita decided to get the heartbeat from "her" head instead. "More accurate," she said. About half an hour later, five more people entered the room, pushing a new machine in front of them. "We need to learn how to use this machine," said the shortest of them, the one wearing a paper hat. Oddly enough, she also had the hat on the photo on her ID card. Is that how they recognize her there? Anyway, this hassle took about hald an hour, and it was bizarre. There were 5-6 people between Jessica and me. I was sitting on another bed, drinking coffee and sending SMS messages to our families, secretly, of course, since you're not supposed to have your mobile phone on in the hospital.
And then, poof, the lady with the paper had and her gang were gone again. It was time to push.
Technical information: Jessica was in a semi-sitting position.
I was somewhere by her right ear, squeezed between the bed and the awesome wonder machine. But hey, it wasn't about me. And then we pushed. I finally got a chance to give Jessica a little massage (arm...) and I did what I could. Which was not a lot. All I could do is sound like a damn poor hockey coach, "you're doing great, push, push, push, yeah, yeah, that's right, one more, one more, looking good, looking good, oh baby..." I was so focused on trying to see what was going at "Hilda's end" that I completely failed to catch Jessica's vomit. She hit the new machine. I bet the Paper Hat Lady was pissed off.
Almost exactly an hour later as I went, "one more, baby, one more push, baby, she's almost outathere, I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT", I actually meant it. Of course, I still couldn't see anything, but I could tell by the look on Benita's face that it was close. And when the other midwife, the one that looked like a Bulgarian short putter guy, only with no moustache, jumped on Jessica's belly ("I'll just help her a little bit"), I knew it had to be close.
And then .. then I saw our baby gliding out like a seal, a little blue but in one piece. And I heard the most wonderful sound I have ever heard. "Her" first cry. Jessica and I were crying and laughing, partly for the same reasons, partly not (my guess since I had no pain). I was still standing between the bed and the machine so I couldn't see if we had a son or a daughter. I only saw half the baby, but I started yelling, "Jessi! Jessi! It's a boy! It's gotta be a boy, that ain't a girl's face!"
Then they put Hannes on Jessica's belly and he just lied there, looking at Jessi with his big round eyes. It was time for our first family hug.
So, A., that was my delivery story. Probably a very guyish story, but that's how I saw it. But you know, the part of getting the baby out of the mother's body is not the whole story. It's not only about whether or not to use drugs and how much you bleed. It takes weeks for the Mom to recover to a point where she feels human again. And that story is seldom told.
