Milestones

Today, Little Mark is one week old.
Today, his mom is 30 years old.

What a wonderful gift to have both of them healthy, happy and home.

That's Lynne on the left - a few hours old - 30 years ago.

That's Mark on the right - a few minutes old - seven days ago.

Happy birthday to a great wife and fantastic mom!

Beauty mark

Not that Lynne and Matt are biased in any way - they maintain their objectivity at all costs - but Mark is clearly the best looking baby, ever.
Dontchayathink?

Home at last!

The new and improved Hanley family is home, healthy and happy. The hospital was an adventure, to be sure. Mark had a short trip to the ICU but it turned out to be nothing major. He's doing great and mom is recovering well.
Lynne, Matt and Mark came home around 3:30 p.m. Wednesday and we all made it through the night without a single calamity.
In case you didn't know, Mark is named after his grandfather - Matt's dad. His middle name, Stewart, is in honor of Lynne's maternal grandfather, Hubert "Red" Stewart (so the little guy can be a namesake but isn't stuck with the name Hubert). Little Mark sure has some great examples to live up to.
Everyone seems to agree that he looks like mom, which experts agree is the better half.

We'll write more later about the hospital time later. For now, here's what you really want to see: Baby pictures!

Introducing...

Mark Stewart Hanley


Born at 9:54 p.m. September 20
8 pounds, 10 ounces
1 foot, 8 inches tall (or 20 inches long, if you prefer)

It was a long day at the hospital, but baby and mommy are healthy and very happy. Daddy is frazzled and very happy.

Just a quick picture now, but we promise to let you see more of this cute little guy soon! (We're scheduled to come home Wednesday.)

Thanks for all the love and support we felt these last few days, weeks and months!

Baby Watch 2009: The waiting is the hardest part

10 p.m. Saturday and all is...no babes in toyland.

Matt and Lynne feel a little bad, whining that Baby hasn't shown up yet. After all, Lynne's not even to her due date - Sept. 26 - and most people's first kid shows up late. (Like Matt did - two and a half weeks!) So, really, they have no room to complain.
It's just at the end - especially when you're at 4 cm for two weeks - the suspense and the discomfort make it rough. There are times when Lynne can't see the end in sight.
"This baby is going to be is in here forever," she said one night.
Of course, this only set Matt's mind racing. What if the baby really did stay in there forever? They'd still want Baby (and that would be his/her name, since you don't win a moniker until somebody sees your face) to get an education. That's not negotiable. So, it would be correspondence courses for high school and then college, if Baby's ACT was high enough. Then, maybe Baby could find a career new technology, something that would allow Baby to work from home. Maybe telemarketing. Little League would be difficult. Driver's ed would be near impossible. Dating would just be plain awkward.
Matt needs to get these kind of thoughts out before the real labor starts. They won't be even a little funny then.

Baby Watch 2009: Same No Baby Channel, same No Baby Time

10 p.m. Friday and all is...still a dynamic duo.

Another doctor's appointment, but no progress. The doctor asked Lynne if she wanted to induce, but Lynne declined. However, Lynne did call the doctor - the same one who said she'd be surprised if Lynne lasted the week - a dirty liar.

The doctor did something called stripping the membranes, which was basically just swirling her finger around in the Netherlands.

It didn't seem all that scientific and there was essentially no risk. The idea is to stir up some membranes which could activate labor.

The doctor said it sometimes works within 48 hours. Matt saw right through that. Of course, it sometimes works! The doctor only does it to people who are 39+ weeks pregnant. They're on the cusp of giving birth anyhow. Matt could have tapped Lynne three times on the head with a cucumber and had approximately the same success rate.

So, no more of these wive's tales. It's time to get serious about getting this baby born. It's time for voo doo.

Really, the doctor said everything was healthy, fine and normal - which is all that's important. Oh, and she handed over a pass to get Lynne out of school until the baby's born. It was like getting Willy Wonka's Golden Ticket.

Baby Watch 2009: We'll take the Fifth

10 p.m. Thursday and all is ... still carrying the bass drum.

Lynne has been exhausted lately.
"You know what?" she said the other day.
"What?"
"I don't want to be swollen anymore."
Fair enough. Her feet are swelled up and standing all day at school does absolutely nothing to help that. Lynne thought about leaving work early - except you don't get paid for any maternity days before the baby is born. What if the baby isn't born for three weeks?
Even though Matt assured her it was fine to stay home if she wasn't feeling well, Lynne was hesitant. She convinced herself it wasn't fair to the other teachers, or that she was being a wimp leaving early.
Then, today, an email went out at school: A student had Fifth's Disease. Pregnant ladies should go home. Score!
When Lynne called Matt she was almost giddy. She gets to rest and she's not even allowed into school. No guilt and no worries.
There's very little risk for Lynne or Baby, even if she did catch Fifth's. It's much more dangerous for people early in their pregnancy since Fifth's can induce labor.
Of course, when Lynne heard that she decided to find this kid and have him to breathe in her general direction.

It seems like everybody else is having those babies. Congrats, Shaft, Mike and Heather!

Baby Watch 2009: Tired

10 p.m. Wednesday and all is ... unparental.

Well, the suggestions are pouring in for ways to lure a baby out.
They're all good and Lynne will certainly be put to work polishing and cooking. Keep 'em coming!
In the meantime, Lynne and Matt have been looking for signs. Any symmetry with when they were born or when they found out she was pregnant are not coincidence but precursors.
Look! They're showing a pregnant lady on TV.
Maybe...
Hey! This song is about having a baby!
Maybe...
But, no.

Matt thought for sure he had the perfect way to make baby show up. Yesterday, he was at work when one of the photographers walked up to his desk.
"You've got a flat tire," she said. "Really flat."
"Really?" Matt said. "Well, that's OK. I'm not going anywhere. I'll fix it later."
"What if Lynne has the baby?"
"Hmmmm, you've got a good point there."
So, Matt went out there in his work clothes in the heat and changed the tire. It wasn't easy, either because they put those bolts on the with an air gun.
Thirty minutes later: new tire, sweaty clothes but no baby. It couldn't be that the tire was just a flat tire, could it? Apparently.

Baby Watch 2009: Stage fright

10 p.m. Tuesday and all is...two people and a dog. No more, no less.
We're wondering if Baby has stage fright. Even though the due date isn't until next Friday, that's always been sort of a guess for Lynne and Matt. Lynne - and Lynne's swollen ankles - are certainly hoping Baby appears soon.

There's not much else to say here, really, so instead Matt will tell you this story, from the Halls of Newspaper Land:
Today, the Aurora Fire Department accepted a donation of pet oxygen masks, which paramedics can use to revive animals that are rescued from fires. (Giving mouth-to-mouth to a turtle proved ineffective.)
So, the fire department had a press conference to announce the donation and the local newspapers, including the Beacon, dutifully sent reporters and photographers to cover this important story. Since there was a pet, this was guaranteed to be the best read story in the paper all month, or - depending on the cuteness - all century.
Anyhow, the company that donated the masks brought a dog to try on the masks. And the Aurora Animal Shelter also brought along a dog - Lenny.
The demonstration went very well and the Beacon's reporter felt he could sleep better knowing animals would not be harmed in his next arson spree.
After the demonstration, the director of Aurora Animal Control decided to take advantage of a somewhat captive audience. As the press conference was wrapping up, she waved her hand at the dog like Vanna White and said, with great flourish, "And Lenny is available to adopt today!"
The crowd looked at Lenny.
And Lenny, on cue, puked on the floor.

Well, nerves will do that. Over here, we're doing much better than Lenny.

Baby Watch 2009: That 1 percent goes a long way

10 p.m. Monday and all is...still preggers.

Matt read recently that at any time, 1 percent of the population is pregnant. When Matt thought about that number, it made sense.
Of course, right off the bat, half the population is out.
Then you eliminate the people who are too old or too young to have babies. Then toss out the people who don't want to, or can't have babies.
You're left with the people who want to and can have babies. But even those people are only pregnant for a very small time in their life (even if it seems like ages when you're ankles are swelling up and you can't scoot all the way up to your desk and you JUST WANT THIS BABY OUT!).
But, when you're pregnant - or your wife is pregnant - man, it seems like everywhere you look there are pregnant people. Now, part of that is self selection: naturally, at the doctor's office and Babies R Us, there's going to be plenty of basketball smugglers.
But even when you're in the normal world, pregnant ladies are everywhere! They're in restaurants and at church and going to baseball games and getting gas for their car and walking their dog. Just about every other woman in Matt's office is pregnant. The neighbor's pregnant. And another neighbor. And the wife of someone in Lynne's office...
And, naturally, when you see these pregnant ladies, you can't help but compare.
"Oh, she's really big," Matt will whisper.
"Whoa - she's looks like she hasn't slept in days."
But that's really not fair. The truth is that Lynne just carries herself well. She's a very cute pregnant woman. She looks good.
All that being said, she's ready to be a cute non-pregnant lady. We'll keep you posted.

Baby Watch 2009: Nothing to see here, folks

10 p.m. Sunday and all is...still a twosome (plus dog). It appears the baby will not be born this weekend.

Lynne is now willing to try any old wive's tale method for making Baby be born.
She heard a pedicure would make the baby be born early. She got one.
She heard that massaging her ankles could induce labor. Early in the pregnancy, she would nervously keep Matt away from her ankles during foot rubs. Now, she's begging for a little ankle rub.
She ate spicy food. She and Matt have walked about 100 miles around and around the block in the last two weeks.
She drew the line at two suggestions: castor was too gross and falling off a chair seemed unnecessarily dangerous.
But she hasn't stopped thinking. Saturday night, they were laying in bed. Matt thought she was asleep when suddenly she piped up.
"Remember when your parents had that squirrel in their attic?" she asked.
"Uh, yeah."
"Remember how they tried to get it out?"
Matt's first memory was of his parents hitting the ceiling with brooms to scare the squirrel out. This seemed like a horrible way to get a baby out. But then he remembered their second tactic. They had taped a radio to a vent and blasted oldies into the attic. (Not suprisingly, the plan was a failure. The squirrel was a Cher fan, apparently.)
"Well, maybe," Lynne continued, "we can strap a radio to me and blast the baby out. I even know the song: Break On Through."
Lynne and Matt haven't tried it. Yet.
Anyhow, if you have any suggestions to do not include strapping electronics to her stomach, feel free to share.
Song requests will also be accepted.

Baby Watch 2009: We ain't got nooooo babies

10 p.m. Saturday and all is ... non-baby.
We're on pins and needles. This pregnancy has been rough.
Feeling tired all the time. Slightly nauseous. Not quite right. Dragging. Bumping into things. Headaches. And, a few times, the shakes.
But that's what happens when you go cold turkey on a Diet Coke addiction.
Matt had a problem. A real bad problem. He was addicted to the sweet, sweet taste of Diet Coke. When the brown stuff touched his lips, he was in a beautiful, highly caffeinated world. Sweet, sweet bliss.
But there was a dark side. The late nights. The hyperactive typing. Five, six 20 ouncers, just to get out of bed. Bottle after bottle filling up the recycling bin.
Matt knew it couldn't last. But he couldn't bring himself to quit. He needed some motivation.
The pregnancy did it.
Since Lynne couldn't have soda, Matt wouldn't have soda. A show of solidarity. Lynne couldn't take a day off from being pregnant, so Matt couldn't - in good conscience - take a day off from the soda strike. So, from the day he found out he has been soda free.
It wasn't easy. The first days had some serious withdrawal. (Seriously.) Matt actually had to apologize to Lynne since she was in real pain, for a legitimate reason. But he felt awful. Still, he trudged on.
Many said he wouldn't make it. Many said he's falter.
And he did. Once. Accidentally. For some reason, Matt convinced himself that Red Bull was not a soda. It was energy drink. So one morning when he was really dragging, he chugged a Red Bull. It failed to give him wings. It did makes his eyes open twice as wide as normal. Matt looked at the contents: sugar and caffeine. That sure sounded like a soda. Matt blames his caffeine withdrawal-addled brain for the fall.
But other than that one slip up, Matt's been soda less since Super Bowl Sunday. Not too shabby. Even when it turned out that Lynne could have soda - and she did - Matt held out.
So, as you can imagine, Matt's eager for the baby to be born. Oh sure, for the life affirming joy, for the beauty of new life and for the incomparable blessing of starting a new family.
And also for that first sweet sip of Diet Coke. Just a sip.

Baby Watch 2009: No babies, all the time

10 p.m. Friday and ... the Hanley home is still a duet.
Lynne had another doctor's appointment today. Still at 4 centimeters, so she was a bit disappointed. She was hoping to go in and they'd say: "Let's take a look...oh, my goodness...Here he/she comes! It's a beautiful, giant-headed baby!" No such luck.
Still, Lynne keeps tapping on her belly, saying "OK, baby, time to head for the exit."
The baby is in position, maybe just waiting for a good push off the wall. The doctor said she has had patients stay at 4 centimeters for two or three weeks - but she'd be surprised if contractions didn't start this week.
And everyone is healthy, which is the most important thing.
Meanwhile, Matt is trying to make sure he's rested, shaved and showered at all times. After all, at any moment, he could be called away! At any second, it could be Baby Time! At any time, there could be family expansion!
And so, Matt alwasy needs to be alert, prepared and pleasant smelling.
But the very idea that - in an instant - his entire life could change, his responsibilities forever altered, the very fabric of his identity becoming greater than just himself, makes Matt very sweaty and wide awake. But, at least he can shave regularly!

In the meantime, do you think the baby will look more like Lynne or Matt? You make the call!

Baby Watch 2009: No news is ... no news

10 p.m. and all is...baby free.
Baby Hanley is certainly squirmy, however. Last week, the baby was shoving and kicking. Lynne's belly looked like a scene from Alien, with little bumps moving across her stomach.
But lately, the baby has begun just pushing in one spot for a long time, making Lynne's belly kind of lopsided. Not that Matt would ever say that to her face.
Anyhow..did you ever notice that even on days when nothing happens, the newspaper keeps publishing? They never give up, those newspapers. Even on holidays, they chug along.
Those are the days when you pick up the morning paper and find a feature on the local teacher who ran across the country, or the fireman whose saved 100 babies from lions, or the woman with the longest fingernails in Kane County.
You read the story and you say, "Hey, that was pretty interesting, but where did that come from?" Chances are some editor had that sitting around, waiting for a day when, sadly, no houses burned down and not a single old lady was attacked by a bear.
That's where we are here at Baby Watch 2009. Nothing to report, but filling the air anyhow. In that spirit, here's a cat in a tree:

Baby Watch 2009: Ain't no baby here

10 p.m. Wednesday and all is...babyless.
Lynne and Matt thought the baby might show up on 9/9/09, which would have been kind of cool, allegedly. Although, they're not sure why it would cool. Matt really isn't into all these "numerology days" - 7/8/09, 6/7/08, etc.
In fact, Lynne and Matt could have considered about two dozen dates that the baby might show up on.
And, of course, everyone with a birthday anywhere in September or early October has asked that Baby Hanley make his/her debut on their day.
Matt's Dad suggested Oct. 3. Matt's Aunt wanted Sept. 7. The Beacon's photo editor recommended Sept. 25. A Beacon reporter wanted Sept. 23. Future Uncle Josh offered to share Sept. 11. Of course, Lynne's big 3-0 will be on Sept. 27, so that would be a very difficult gift to top.
We're taking requests. The sooner the better.

Baby Watch 2009: Please stayed tuned during these commercial announcements

10 p.m. Tuesday and all is...the same.
But, since we don't have hold music on this blog, we instead present some YouTube baby moments.
Which classic 1980s sitcom will most resemble Lynne and Matt's adventure?

Full House style?


Cosby style?


Perfect strangers style?


ALF style?


Sorry, Dick Van Dyke not available!

Baby Watch 2009: 11 p.m. and all is ... the same

Well, it's 11 p.m. here in the Land of Lincoln and Baby Hanley is still subletting, unready to move out.
Looks like Labor Day will just be a day for celebrating the years of protest and strife that went into securing American workers a 40-hour work week after all.
Oh well.

In the meantime, enjoy this ode to waiting for babies with gratitude to Clement Clarke Moore.






'Twas the last days of pregnancy and all through the home,
The baby was stirring but refused to be shown.
The bags were all packed by the door with care,
In hopes that Baby Hanley soon would be there.
Baby Hanley was nestled all snug in his/her bed,
While Matt runs runs around like a chicken sans head.
With Ma in her way, Pa's in such a state,
He wants to make sure he makes no mistake.
Because one day soon there will arise such a clatter,
Pa will wake up and know just what's the matter.
Away to the bags he'll fly like a flash,
Out into the car and away in a dash.
The moon will guide him to the hospital doors,
He has memorized the route - he knows all the floors.
But what to Matt's wondering eyes should appear?
He forgot Lynne at home and now he's in fear!
Like an Indy car driver, so lively and quick,
Matt tears home to grab Lynne, lickety split!
More rapid than eagles the swear words they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and cursed his own name:
"You dummy, you goof, you moron, you fool!
You dumkopf, you loser, you short end of the gene pool!
You had just one job, one little task from the start -
Get Lynne to the hospital and you were doing your part."
So back to the house, the husband he flew,
With his gut in a knot and his wife in a stew.
As Matt pulled on to the street and up to the house,
He immediately spotted a very angry spouse.
Lynne was dressed in pajamas and her hair was a mop,
She'd chased the car for a block, but Matt didn't stop.
Her eyes - how they glowered! Her scowl - how scary.
And the finger she raised was anything but merry.
She was flustered and tired and ready to pop,
Matt knew in a moment, he had been a flop.
A pinch of his ear and knock on his head,
Matt knew he'd better get going or he'd have much more to dread.
They spoke not a word as they drove into the night,
Matt could still rescue this mission - if the baby held tight!
But when Lynne gripped his shoulder, Matt knew Baby was near,
He pulled off the road and grabbed his catcher's gear.
He sprang into action and knew he had to deliver,
"This Baby was coming!' Lynne said with a quiver.
But then out of the ether Matt heard a loud scream,
It was just the alarm. This was all a bad dream.


We'll keep you posted!

Baby Watch 2009: Will Labor Day be...LABOR DAY?!?

Lynne had a doctor's appointment last week and she found out she was 2-1/2 centimeters dilated.
Ten centimeters means the baby is on his/her way, so it was a bit surprising that Lynne was one-quarter of the way home with nary a contraction. Some people go to the hospital with contractions five minutes apart (the magic interval!) and they aren't at 2 centimeters yet. Still, the distance between 2.5 centimeters and 10 centimeters can be weeks.
Lynne's due date is Sept. 26. Both she and Matt think Baby may arrive early because he or she has been measuring ahead for a while.
Either way, the doctor was very non-chalant about 2.5 centimeters.
Then, Lynne had another appointment on Friday. She was more than bit surprised to find out that she is now 4 centimeters dilated. Still no contractions, but things seem to be developing.
Does that mean the baby is on his/her way out into the world? Maybe. But it could very well still be three weeks.
On the other hand, the doctor said that if her water breaks everyone should head to the hospital right away because the baby could come fast. This is essentially Lynne's dream come true and Matt's worst nightmare.
Lynne wants this baby out right! now!
Meanwhile, Matt knows he has had only one real job throughout this whole pregnancy. Oh sure, he's helped around the house and dispensed back rubs liberally. But his only true function is to drive Lynne to the hospital before the baby arrives. (He's still haunted by a Saved by The Bell episode where Mrs. Belding gave birth in an elevator and Zack had to deliver it.) So, if Matt ends up pulling over to the side of the road to deliver Baby in the car, then he has failed at the single job he was assigned. The doctors said it has never happened before - which is all the more reason to make sure it doesn't happen to Lynne and Matt. No need to be the cautionary tale.
Anyhow, back in 4-centimeter land...Lynne is sitting around encouraging the baby to head for the exit. And Matt is running in circles like a nut, afraid to leave her side. Every time she burps, he assumes the baby is about to show up.
We'll keep you posted.

Not all cribs are made the same

Dear Baby,
By the time you read this, you probably won't remember that you once had a crib. Unlike a favorite toy or book, there's not much reason to have a crib in the house once you've outgrown it.
So, we'd just like to tell you that at one point your mom and dad spent many, many hours studying The Crib Issue with great sincerity, full attention and significant cluelessness.
You must understand: we needed just. the. right. crib. This was the first significant gift we were going to buy for you and nothing but the best (within reason), most safe (in our price range) and highest recommended (available in our area) crib would do for our little one.
Now, you may be under the impression that all cribs are basically the same - wood slats, a floor, a mattress. If only it were so simple.
The Great Crib Hunt of 2009 began in April, when the air was crisp and the ground was frozen.
At our first store, we were assured by the salesman that a great majority of cribs are baby ambushes - wooden Venus fly traps waiting to suffocate you, strangle you, mangle you, dangle you, break your legs, swallow you whole or, at the very least, give you allergies.
Under the crib's four-wall-no-top setup is a series of dangerous features, each helpfully outlined by the salesman, so we can decide how much we love this kid we had met, and could have been a dud.
"If the gaps between the bars are too wide the baby could get his arm stuck in there!"
"If there is space in the corner of the crib, the baby could get his foot stuck in there!"
"If the entire crib is not sealed off in a protective bubble, the baby will have to breathe human air!"
We navigated these perils like seasoned pros. We evaluated, consulted, examined, discussed, dissected, scrutinized, checked...and then went with the one that matched the walls. Also, it had a super cool, top secret drawer in the bottom. It was awesome.
But, truth be told: the crib was just a warm up. The real danger was in the crib's mattress, a 4-foot-by-2-foot hunk of menace.
Baby, there are approximately 1,455 different kinds of crib mattress, each more safe, more wonderful and more expensive than the last. There is the bottom level mattress, which - for $79 - is a plastic bag with a spring in it. The salesman assured us that any infant who slept on this mattress would grow up hunchbacked and addicted to crystal meth. But, if we were trying to save money, then they had this model in stock. It was called "The Deformer."
There were anti-allergy mattresses. There were mattress with squared-off corners, so there would be no gap in the corner, where monsters could hide. There were foam mattresses and spring mattresses. There were mattress sealed so they would not not have any seams.
One of the mattresses - we kid you not - could float in a pool. We thought that would be a strange place to find yourself: in a pool on a baby mattress. But, then, we had to wonder: Why aren't the other mattresses keeping you from drowning? Didn't they care?
Once we had decided on springs rather than foam, we faced a new challenge: tensile strength. How many springs should your mattress have? Or, in other words, how much did we really love our still hypothetical child?
Our friendly salesman assured us that we had many options when it came to the number of springs. Did we want 75 springs? 150? 252?
Of course, Baby at this point, we had never met you. But were still reasonably sure you were going to weigh somewhere in the eight to 12 pound range. 15 - tops. It would seem that 75 "triple-enforced" springs would be sufficient to support your body weight. 252 seemed to be overdoing it. Showing off, you know? We also had some fear that if we chose a mattress that tightly wound, we might lay you down for nap only to have you rocket toward the ceiling behind the power of 252 springs.
So, there we stood, in Babies-R-Us, looking at three mattresses - your father locked in a mental battle between his inherent cheapness (he hasn't bought underwear in six or seven years) and his desire not to warp you right of the gate.
We're proud to say that he did not go with the cheapest option. He went middle ground. He must really love you.
Love, Mom and Dad