Henson at 15 weeks.

Lookit!  My boy oughta be a model.  Will ya look at that?  I mean, will you look at that?  That is one good looking kid!

{pinches his widdle cheeks}

We are lucky that Henson is fairly camera-friendly.  Before Hotsie gave birth, I was trying to make sure I was mentally ready just in case we had a kinda weird looking kid.  “Oh, your child will always be beautiful…to you” folks told us.  Wrong.  An ugly baby is an ugly baby.  There, I’ve said it.  I said it before my kid was born and I’m-a-sayin’ it right now.  I am so grateful that Henson is a good looking child.  I only hope that he can keep it up for the next seventeen years and 37 weeks, when he leaves my house.  (Clock’s tickin, kid.)

Yeah, I know, I get all weepy when my brother leaves town and now I’m joking about my kid leaving home.  But seriously, I’m the kind of guy that can’t listen to Johnny Cash’s “Miss Tara” without sobbing “Damn you, Johnny Cash” for making me get all choked up.

Statistically speaking, ugly babies get less love from their parents.  Hey, it was in TIME magazine on the internet so it must be true.

Check it out:

TIME Magazine: Is an Ugly Baby Harder to Love?

Like I said, we lucked out.  Henson’s a cool lookin’ kid so far and we really do marvel at him every day.

I was so afraid this would have been us.

But on to the Henson update for friends and family that are far-flung:  Henson is just over 15 weeks and weighs, well, a lot.  Can’t tell you how much but it’s certainly more than before.  He’s got a teeny little pot belly today, which means it’s time for a growth spurt.  He normally gets just a teeny tiny belly, then within 2 days, he’s longer than before and the belly is gone.  Soon he’ll be too long to fit his cradle or bassinet, which is why we’re trying to slowly transition him into his baby bed for a few hours at night after his late night feeding.  You know that old saying “they grow up so fast?”  Yeah, it’s a bummer.  As much as I’m looking forward to the boy that Henson will become, I miss teeny baby Henson already.

That said, though, he is sooooo cool these days.  He sees me or Hotsie from across the room and he just busts out laughing and smiling.  He’s starting to get ticklish and will squeal in anticipation if you start to act like you’re going to tickle him.  He gives  these little sideways glances where he KNOWS he’s caught your eye, then he’ll giggle and coo.  How cool is that?

Ah, yes, and he’s discovered that he has a voice.  Every now and then he tests his vocal cords by letting out a long “goooooooooooo” at top volume like he’s some kind of baby locomotive.  It’s a trip.  Except when he decides to wake up at  3 AM and amuse himself with it.  Still, it’s certainly a nicer sound than crying, so I’ll count it as a blessing.  Even at 3 AM it’s pretty cool to hear him being happy.

Henson is starting to take an interest in Stanzi and Josie, our Italian Greyhounds, which are the size of housecats on stilts.  They check him out every day and give him a single “welcome home” lick when he gets home for the day with Mama.  He’s started to reach out to touch Stanzi a couple of times, so we’ll see where that goes.  Italian Greyhounds aren’t noted for being particularly good with kids, but so far the girls treat Henson like he’s one of the family.

Yes, my son has transitioned from being a squawling little beast to being a totally cool little munchkin.  And he’ll always be the Podling, even though he’s out of the pod and in the big wide world.

In other words, my brother and sister-in-law just left for Colorado today.  That’s a heck of a fling.

My bro, a musician in the Army, and his wife who is also an Army musician and singer hit the road about 9 hours ago.  By now they’re at my Dad’s house and with luck my Sister and her family will get to see them for a few preci0us hours.  It wouldn’t be such a traumatic thing if they hadn’t lived within less than 2 miles away from our home.  I remember my Mom telling me when we moved away that it wasn’t so much that she and I saw a lot of each other every day or anything, but knowing that I was close brought a certain type of comfort to her.  As the oldest, I was the first one to leave the nest so I’ve never had the experience of being left behind.  I was the always the guy at the wheel when it was time to head out for adventure in exotic locales – never the guy who had to watch the moving van pull away, so to speak.  For the first time, my perspective has had to change 180 degrees and it is unnerving.

For the past few days, my Bro told me that he was really disappointed that he’ll be so far away while my son grows up.  At the time, it didn’t really click, but now that I’m not trying to keep an upbeat tone and a cheery face, I realize just how cool it would have been to have Henson spend time with his very cool uncle.  Typing here in the stillness of my study with my wife, son and 2 miniature greyhounds tucked in bed upstairs, it seems more quiet tonight than before.  It’s like those two particular people have a buzz that isn’t here now.  There’s a little empty spot in my psyche right now, kind of like when you lose a tooth as a kid.  You never noticed the tooth itself so much, but your tongue sure notices it’s absence.  It’s not like we spent a ton of time together, but like Mom said, there’s a particular comfort in knowing that you could if you wanted.

This blog is supposed to be about my kid, but occasionally I swerve in another direction, like tonight.  It was thinking about raising my kid with semi-distant relatives that got me here tonight.  Personal relationships, family and otherwise, seem to have taken on a totally new sense of importance to me now that I’m a father.  How does that work out?  Guess it’s time to talk with my Dad to see how he and his siblings (who are also far-flung) managed to deal with it.

Hey Bro, you’ll read this eventually once you, your wife, your dog and your laptops get settled in Colorado.  I miss you already.  A bunch.

James Henson: Ramblin Man.

So Hotsie trots in, the kid in hand, and plops little smilin’ Jim’s kid carrier on the floor of the dining room, where he is still snoozing this very minute.  Of course, she plunked him down right next to my vaudeville suitcases, so I decide to crawl around on the hardwood, camera in hand as if my kid is some kind of prop in a show…

…which then made me get all introspective.

Our friends in the burlesque and vaudeville community are already joking about the kid being in the show some time and I’m struggling with the fact that it’s gonna be difficult to juggle wearing my pinstripes and fedora while handling the kid, being a good dad and all that.  Could be that I read an article today in Parenting magazine about a parent who was a stripper during college and how she plans on airbrushing out that little part of her young adult journey of self-discovery.  She plans on never, ever, telling her kids about it.

I mean, I’ve got no problem with telling the kid that “back in the day” I hung out with burlesque dancers, fire eaters, belly dancers and other dangerous types.  No problem telling him that Auntie Lashe and Auntie Love are a sister act.  No problem with the kid growing up while I still do comedy in bars, clubs and theatres.  But when the kid goes up in front of his kindergarten class on career day and says “I wanna be a comic like my dad and hang out with strippers all night” how does that really play out in the real world?  Does Child Protective Services swoop in and “save” my child from what they must assume is some kind of bourbon-soaked reprobate Dad?  Will I even get a chance to explain “No, you see, it’s burlesque and vaudeville, your Honor.  It’s not like they’re stripping.  I mean, well, technically they are, but it’s different.  See, like I say in the show, ‘It’s more about what you don’t see than what you do see, and when you do see what you do see, now that’s a doosie.’”  It’s not even like I’m as involved in the burlesque community as I used to be while we transition over to being parents.  Will the judge “get it” or will she just go on and put my kid in an orphan asylum with the idea that I can just appeal it later?

The burlesque crowd in this town are beautiful, creative, funny, sincere and wonderful people who do what they love out of love for the craft, not to pay the bills.  Our audiences are full of smart professionals and geeks of all stripes (as well as the occasional drunken frat boy), but for the most part, they are just there to have fun with us – we just happen to be the people on stage.  But from an outsider’s limited perspective, the burlesque biz is far more intriguing and dangerous than the reality of it all.  Yes, I remember asking backstage once “Does anybody have a riding crop?  I bet Oni has one in her car.  Somebody get me a riding crop so I can make a Nazi joke when I go back onstage,” and there are many more singularly outré backstage moments like that in burlesque, but it’s really more like backstage at The Muppet Show than anything tittilating.    As a dear friend aptly puts it, burlesque is “community theatre with ostrich feathers and pasties.”  But how do you explain that to a kid in language that he can understand?

And then there’s the fact that I’m not exactly a good Christian sort of fellow either.  Nope.  Pentagram totin’ Pagan here.

May as well check the kid into the orphanage now and get it over with.

This afternoon I came home to find the above image on my wife’s computer screen.  It made me literally have to catch my breath.  It looks like the two of us in high school when we first met and went to prom.  The prince even has my hair and skin tone, and the princess has Hotsie’s eyes.  This couple are the hero and heroine of Disney’s The Frog Prince, due out this year.

I knew that that movie was set in 1920′s New Orleans, I knew it had a black heroine, but I had no idea it was about a mixed-race couple.  Perfectly logical considering the setting, I know, but never, ever in my wildest dreams would I have expected to see Disney take the next step of not only finally representing blacks in a positive light on screen (and NO, Uncle Remus does not count, and anyone who brings up the Lion King as a serious contender for a “black” Disney film is probably pasty alabaster post WWII whitebread white) but putting a mixed race couple up there for everybody to see.  Wow.  I see the cliche drawer hasn’t been cleaned out in a while, so I’ll say it made my heart skip a beat.

Then I read the article attached to the graphic and that same heart sunk. Some bitter twit of an author wants to wail and rail about how apparently Disney’s princess “obviously” isn’t worth having a black prince, and how Sasha and Malia of our American first family will “just have to wait’ until they see a black man portrayed in a positive light on the Disney screen.  Yeah, the author is right, they’ll have to wait, but for children and families who identify as “mixed race” the waiting is finally over.  So I guess it’s a matter of perspective.  White racists can tremble in their enclaves over the politically correct black agenda being pushed on their ubermenschen breeding stock, and black racists can wail over how they’re STILL under represented even in a movie that they feel is somehow “supposed” to be about the mythical “black experience.”  The guy looks mixed to me, not white, anyway, so it could be that Disney’s playing it safer than we think.

Me?  I’ll be grateful I can see people that look like my family up on the screen in a Disney film.  There’s an even more under-represented group in American media, and that’s people who self-identify as “mixed race.”  While I’m sure the media will trumpet “Disney’s first black heroine” later this year, I’m crazy happy to see a couple that looks like me and my wife – that’s even less represented than blacks on the silver screen.

Here’s the trailer, with what the author calls a firefly who “talks like a slave.”  Hel-LO?  Cajun!  If you’re gonna get upset about something, get upset that they apparently hired commercial voice talent instead of a bona-fide Cajun to do the voice.  A slave, indeed.  Jeez.  Get that chip off your shoulder.  It’s making you look like an idiot in a dress with with only one shoulder pad.

And of COURSE the obligatory Disney animal sidekick had to be a firefly.  Pirates of the Carribean, anyone?

Nothing much new to report, to be honest.  Henson continues to grow like some kind of mutant squash.  He’s probably 14 lbs by now.

I love this photo.  Only problem is that the autofocus picked up on his fist and not his face.  By the time I was able to refocus a split second later, the moment was lost.

Just a reminder- if you’re looking for Henson’s photos, you’ll find them on the James Henson set on my Flickr Account.

Of course, it’s not real Schoolhouse Rock, but it should be.  Where else would Noam Chomsky intersect with kids’ music?  Goes right along with the storybooks we now own – Why Mommy is a Democrat, and Mama Voted For Obama! And to think I actually met one of those terrorists the Guv’ment  re-branded “Freedom Fighters” face-to-face at my Dad’s Republican club in the 80′s, back in the day when I thought Alex P. Keaton had it all figured out.

Now I have a chance to atone for my past sins (you DO know I worked on the Reagan/Bush campaign in ’84, yes?  Mea culpa.  Mea maxima culpa) by steeping my kid in liberal propaganda as if he was an oversoaked bag of Luzianne.  Then if things follow the pattern, he’ll rebel in his 20′s and will act out by busting unions, rigging elections,  keeping the black man down and all the other things that Republicans seem to find so satisfying.

Love ya Dad, I swear.  Really. 

Check out Pirates and Emperors online for more info on this totally cool short film.

For more original Schoolhouse Rock, hit the following YouTube links:

Three is a Magic Number

Conjunction Junction

I’m Just a Bill

The Preamble

Interjections!

Get Your Adverbs Here

And just because you’re here…. links to parodies from the fine cynics at Mad TV:

Dysfunction Junction

Get Your School Lunch Here

And Conspiracy Rock is a fine piece by the Emerson college comedy troupe named This Is Pathetic.  I’d love to see it tightened up a bit but still, it’s a blast.

Ok, enough.  You have at least a half hour to waste with these links.

Praise for The Happiest Sith Lord On The Block:

[The Happiest Sith Lord On The Block CD really works to quiet down screaming babies!  When I played the CD, it was] almost as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced.”   – Obi Wan Kenobi, Rebel Terrorist

Some parents are already aware of Dr. Harvey Karp’s instructional DVD and corresponding CD, The Happiest Baby On The Block.  Dr. Karp recently spoke at the CDC here in Atlanta and our lactation specialists are big ol’ Dr. Karp Fans.  He’s the guy who helped bring swaddling back into vogue and he has some neat baby holding techniques that help get babies to relax.  These methods help them get to sleep deeper and for longer periods at a time.  We use his techniques around the house a lot and Henson seems to go for them.

The Happiest Baby On The Block CD has tracks of ambient white noise that mimic sounds in the womb.  They are rythmic “shushing” sounds that repeat over and over, kind of like rythmic static.  It helps the baby relax and has the beneft of blocking out household sounds that you, as parents, might be making in another room.  When we put Henson down for his nap, we put on The Happiest Baby On The Block CD and he konks right out.  Same with the white noise generator on his crib that makes nature sounds.  The kid digs white noise.

Which brings me to Hotsie’s great idea for our little geekling.  She was joking around that the slower Happiest Baby track reminded her of Darth Vader’s respirator, and of course that got me going.  What better white noise than the rhythmic, deep breathing sounds of Darth Vader mixed with an ambient drone that’s designed for relaxation?  How better to win our little apprentice over to the power of the Dark Side than to program him to take comfort from Lord Vader’s very breath?

So, as a service to all geek parents out there, I give you “The Happiest Sith Lord On The Block – Vader’s Embrace.  Ambient Respirator Sounds for Baby.”

How do you use it?   Download the file which is 15 minutes long.  Burn it to a CD 5 times in a row and you have a full 75 minute CD of Darth Vader’s soothing ambient breathing.  Just what baby needs to have a restful sleep.

Remember, there are only 2 sides of a bed to wake up on – make sure your baby wakes up on the Dark Side!

Download “Vader’s Embrace – Ambient Respirator Sounds for Baby” on Garageband.com

To see the photos with captions or a full screen slideshow click the links below or use the links in the slideshow above.

James Henson Slideshow on Flickr

James Henson Photo Set on Flickr

Photo links are also in the blogroll to your right.

James Henson. 1 month old on 4/16/2009

Holy Moley.

Our son is a month old.

He’s in good health, round about 10 3/4 lbs.  Tends towards happy.  Gurgles a lot.

Hotsie came to me early this morning, child in arms, and asked “remember where were we this time a month ago?”   A month ago we were curled in a single chair in a resoundingly quiet delivery room that was more empty than empty, save us and the beautiful boy we had both just met face to face for the first time.  While Hotsie had delivered with only the midwife, a nurse and me, the flurry of staff that came in immediately after the birth filled the room with an efficient, practiced, quietly cacophonous ballet of weighing, blood-typing, measuring, testing, re-testing and wheeling in of a machine that went ping! Then in what seemed like minutes, we were alone with this miracle boy that we somehow had the hubris to think we could handle when we said “let’s have a baby” only 11 months before.

23 years together.

10 months to make a baby.

1 month of total awe so far.

You have no excuse not to visit.

What does it take to have you people come over and visit?  An engraved invitation?  Well there you go.   Just call first.

What are we, lepers?