The Curious Case of the Giant Baby

So Everett has passed a number of milestones in his rapid development, but there's been very little on this blog to chronicle all of his progress. Here's an entry I started after he turned four months old:

Everett's four month birthday has come and gone, and he continues to grow like crazy. Shortly after his birth, he was a little below average on height, but now he's at the 90th percentile, at 26 inches. Assuming his adult height will be at least twice his infant height, this puts him on pace to be no shorter than four feet four inches.

Everett remains a joy between 7 a.m. and 8 p.m. and a terror at night. He averages two or three decent nights of sleep a week, so we're definitely looking forward to more than three or four hours at a time from our restless son.

The sleep got better very quickly--in June Everett was starting to sleep through the night with a little coddling by his dad when he awoke instead of nursing like he had done every night since his birth. In August we moved him up to his bedroom, where he now spends the hours of 9:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m., babbling himself to sleep and only occasionally getting fussy enough that we need to intervene with a pacifier and a pat on the back.

Everett started eating solid foods a little after his five-month birthday. On June 24 we were eating at Santa Rita down the street, talking about Everett's doctor's advice that we start him on solid foods a few weeks before six months. Brandi was saying that we didn't need to abide by that schedule, and somehow that turned into us feeding him the guacamole that was a few inches from his carrier. Here's the video we shot a few days later. Now Everett usually eats three (sometimes two) times a day. He doesn't show much of a preference--whether it's rice or oatmeal cereal, vegetables, or fruit, he takes big bites and grunts impatiently while you're preparing another spoonful.

Everett started rolling over right around five months as well. Here's a video of one of his first rolls from back to belly. Now he's established a comfort level with being on his belly, sort of. He started sleeping on his belly (really on his knees) and on his side in addition to on his back, but he often gets frustrated when he's on his tummy. He was doing fine on his tummy, pushing up on his arms and looking around, but once he got a taste of the vantage point he can get from sitting up he gets a little frustrated with being on the ground. Sitting up, which he's been doing since he was 6 1/2 months, he likes to reach for his favorite toys, his drum set, his squeaky giraffe Sophie, and his crazy ticklish chicken from his Mimi.

There hasn't been a first word yet, but there's a good chance it will be "mama" or "dada." Everett often says, "ma ma ma..." when he is hungry, and he says, "da da da..." when he is getting his diaper changed or just sitting around. He still babbles and spits some, but a lot of what he does is a high-pitched, squeaky laugh when he gets excited. He also laughs his regular laugh a lot--when he gets tickled on his neck, when Brandi or I runs and jumps up close to his face, when we play peek-a-boo, when we lift him in the air, or when we bounce him on the bed. He smiles a lot--we now have a mirror in the car that sits right in front of him, and he smiles and laughs at his reflection all the time. He has also started smiling for pictures. You used to have to catch him in a smile, but in the last couple weeks he has held a smile when there's a camera in his face as though he knows what he is supposed to do.

Story time has become an integral part of his sleep/nap routine and anytime he needs a little calming. It's great to watch how interested he has become in his books and in listening to us read to him. Many evenings when you say "the end" he eagerly grabs for the next book. We have a lot of books that we are looking forward to sharing with him in these coming days.

We continue to be amazed with each milestone by EW. I'm sure crawling is not too far away, however we are in no hurry for that to happen at the moment. Over the past several weeks, we are watching our small helpless baby turn into a strong, inquisitive boy. As much as we, especially his mom, have been ready for the exhausting parts of the first six months to be over, we also want to cherish these days of his little life.

Remembering 9/11

On this day ten years ago, I was getting ready for work at 7:15am and for some reason I turned on the TV in the morning which was more than unusual for me. Not too long after, Good Morning America deviated from its regular programming to talk about the first plane that hit. I didn't hesitate for a second, and I called my dad who was working that morning at the store. I called many people that day to share our fears and express how important they each were to me. But my daddy was first.

This morning on September 11, 2011, like so many Americans, we watched the service and the opening of the 9/11 memorial for the ten year anniversary. It is tough to watch even after ten years. The stories from all the siblings, spouses and parents that lost their loved ones touched my heart in a place that didn't exist for me on September 11, 2001. At the end of one of the segments, Diane Sawyer was talking to the children of pregnant women who lost their husbands on 9/11. And she said to a young boy, "You need only look inside yourself to find your dad." My heart goes out to everyone who lost a family member or friend that fateful day. And to all of us still on this earth, let this day always serve as a reminder about coming together and reaching out to those we love and letting them know how much we love them.

Texas A&M to the SEC, Take Two

[There are, dear reader, at least six reasons that you should discount my opinion on the whole A&M/SEC situation:

1) I came to Texas A&M from out of state.
2) I like college basketball more than college football.
3) Having moved to SEC territory in middle school with established sports ties, I don't particularly care for the SEC.
4) I would heartily support the creation of a functioning football minor league for football players who are not interested in being college students, even if it would significantly erode the quality of the talent pool in college football.
5) I hate superconferences. For the SEC, moving from 12 teams to 14 teams will make it 16.67% worse. And a 12-team conference is already 50% worse than an 8-team conference, which is the Platonic ideal for sports conferences.
6) I've been accused of liking too many teams. I suppose part of this comes from having lived in seven different states. About a decade ago I made a list of my 50 favorite college sports teams, and every single Big 12 team was represented. (As an amendment to #3 above, Tennessee, Arkansas, LSU, Mississippi St., and Vanderbilt came in at #24, 25, 34, 35, and 40, respectively.) I realize that I'm breaking a rule here. But since the rule involves, essentially, the requisite amount of animus you should have toward teams that play against your favorite team, you would think that breaking it would not offend people. But it does.]

A couple weeks ago, I was at my sister's wedding, and I was sitting at a table with several former family friends. One couple was from Fayetteville, Arkansas. One was originally from Florida, but I knew them in Memphis. Someone else I knew from both Memphis and Fayetteville, and currently lives in Florida. In other words, SEC country was well represented. Still, I had no problem announcing that I "despise" the SEC. I feel fine saying that, partially because I respect the heck out of everyone at that table--I've lived in two different SEC towns, and I like the people there a lot. If Texas A&M goes to the SEC, I will be very, very disappointed, but I'll get over it. I get the feeling that something different is going on between Texas A&M and Texas.

Since moving to the SEC involves potentially cutting ties with almost 300 years worth of Texas-based rivals, you would expect there to be, at the very least, some bittersweet feeling about making this kind of move. Instead, the overwhelming feeling I get from the Aggie community is unrestrained glee. I wouldn't expect a whole lot of tears to be shed over Baylor and Tech, but it disappoints me the extent to which people are willing to discard our rivalry with Texas.

There seems to be a lot of very real-world negative emotion directed at Texas considering that sports is, all things considered, not exactly the most consequential thing in the world. Coming to Texas A&M from out of state, I was not at all surprised at the bad blood that existed between the schools on the playing field. But I was a little bit disappointed at how much of that spilled over into everyday life. I thought that these Aggies had lots of high school friends who went to Texas and that many Aggies were considering going to Texas. Up to a point that's true, but there are a lot of Aggies who genuinely hate UT. I don't know how it compares to other big rivalries (especially ones that have a power imbalance), but I know it's too many people who feel this way.

Rivalries exist on a sort of delicate balance--too much animosity and you get incidents like the one between the Giants and Dodgers fans on opening day; too little and you get things like Brett Favre lying down for Michael Strahan. The Texas/Texas A&M rivalry, at its best, has intense moments on the field and moments of unity off, like the 1999 Bonfire game. At its worst, it devolves into two very different fan communities: one is cocky and willing to alienate rivals as long as they get theirs; the other is bitter and so eager to prove it's not the little brother that it's willing to blow up the rivalry. Kind of a shame, really.

Some people view college football as a way to unwind from a world that has too many pressing issues. These people will probably be happy wherever Texas A&M ends up playing. But this process has highlighted a number of people who really seem to believe that the University of Texas is not just holding back the fortunes of their favorite football team or even their favorite university; it's holding them back. Reading the message boards and listening to the people driving public (Aggie) perception on this, I get the distinct impression that lots of people think that moving to the SEC will solve something for them. These people are likely to be very disappointed--this whole time they thought their problem was Texas; they're about to learn that their problem is living vicariously through sports teams.

I guess what I'm saying is that a little perspective is in order. Sports is great, but since the start of the BCS, we've spent billions of person hours discussing something that is, by my count, three levels removed from sports*. And if A&M goes to the SEC, everything will get ramped up to a level we've never seen. We'll likely form four 16-team superconferences, devise a playoff system designed around platitudes like "Settle it on the field**", and get state legislatures involved in college sports conference alignment when they're having trouble funding basic services.

Serenity now.

*Watching sports is one level removed from participating in sports. Talking about sporting events is two levels removed, and discussing the organization of sports leagues and the determination of a champion is three levels removed.

**Every kind of championship includes objective elements and subjective elements. There is no perfect way to determine a champion.

The Greatest Sporting Event I Ever Witnessed

This post is inspired by the inimitable Chuck Klosterman, who, on the recently launched sports and pop culture site Grantland.com, told the story of the greatest sporting event he has witnessed in person. The most endearing quality of the piece is that it is a game that, if it were not recounted by Klosterman, would be entirely forgotten. And while my story does not involve an undersized Native American basketball team holding off a superior junior college team with only three players, it is a story that needs to be told. The world must know what happened in Austin, Texas in 2004 when the ice hockey teams of The University of Texas and Texas A&M University faced off.

[Finding scores and recaps from the 2003-2004 hockey season is about like finding information on my 2nd grade tee ball team, so from here on out I'm relying on my own faulty memory. (I thought I got close for a minute, but then I realized I happened upon the intercollegiate roller hockey league, which of course has records dating back to the beginning of time.) Edit--I was able to find scores from A&M's 03-04 hockey season.]

I started business school at Texas in the fall of 2003, and I happened to have two classmates who played on Texas's club hockey team. The team played Baylor at the spacious Travis County Expo Center, home of the now-defunct Austin Ice Bats, and won 12-2. A Texas hockey fan described the collegiate hockey scene as follows: "Texas is winning 12-2 today, but when they go and play Oklahoma, they lose 12-2. And Oklahoma would lose 12-2 to a team like Michigan." Texas A&M, it was explained, was more on the level of Baylor than of Texas. (Looking at recent results, there is now almost complete parity among Texas hockey programs.)

Texas defeated A&M twice during the regular season by a combined score of 11-1, and the two teams met again in the playoffs at Austin's Chaparral Ice, a place where you might host your child's birthday party if you weren't fast enough to book Chuck E. Cheese. The match was witnessed by 50 or so people.

The game started predictably enough, as Texas secured a two-goal lead behind a superior front line that completely outmaneuvered the Aggies' defense. Early in the second period, Texas had a 4-1 advantage. The game seemed over, save for one fact: what the Aggies lacked in talent, experience, size, speed, quickness, and strategy, they made up for with grit, determination, pluck, moxie, and overall "underdogness." A&M closed the second period with two goals to bring the score to 4-3. Seven years later, it's difficult to find the words to describe how they managed to push the puck through the net twice so quickly. There's something about hockey and its (ideally) fluid motion that accentuates the differences between competitors of varying talent levels. Also, Texas kept running out fresh bodies, while A&M had fewer players on their bench, most of whom just sat there, conspicuously. I would have expected this difference in manpower to have borne fruit for the Longhorns by the end of the second, but instead A&M took a few chances on defense and, with the help of a well-placed shot and a fortuitous rebound, found themselves in a game at the beginning of the third period.

The final period began with great hope for both Aggie fans in attendance. And the goal that Texas scored toward the start of the third did not immediately seem to be an impediment to a comeback. But then it happened. The team that had, up to this point, directed all of their focus and energy toward the task at hand directed it toward the opposing team. I don't think the Aggies went two minutes the rest of the game without committing a penalty. Not content to commit garden variety fouls, they elevated loss of composure to an art form. The smallest amount of contact would have them trying to take the heads off their opponents. A player who lost the puck on a breakaway decided, rather than going after the puck or getting back on defense, to plow, full speed, into the goalie. He was among several players ejected.

With the A&M squad decimated from disqualifications, I thought they had made a mockery of what was, just a few minutes earlier, quite a compelling game. But then I saw the players coming off the Aggie bench, and I realized why they had sat for the entire game. You see, in fielding a roster of about 15 players, Texas A&M had managed to pick up about 10 who could actually skate. The crown jewel of the Aggie bench was a 6'5", 300-pound behemoth who was the last man off the bench. The only thing shakier than him on skates was the skates underneath him. He was so unsure of himself on skates that obviously were not intended for someone of his size that you started to wonder how he intended to skate at all, until you realized that he had no intention of skating. His first move was to collide immediately with the nearest Longhorn (in fairness, he may have just been looking for the closest object to cushion his inevitable fall). All that remains of this game, the final score (10-3), leaves no indication of how close it nearly was and how crazy it got.

The hockey game unfolded like a three-act play, with each act offering something entirely different. Aggie fans saw a tragedy, and Longhorn fans saw a comedy. I'm not sure what I saw. I've been to plenty of meaningful, suspenseful, and entertaining games, but this was the only game that I feel broke the rules of athletic competition. It was two periods of a great hockey game and one period of pure train wreck. Part of what makes the craziness of this game so interesting, though, is that it was authentic. Seeing how Aggies and Longhorns treat each other when nobody's watching, it turns out, makes for very compelling viewing.

Everett at Three Months

We just crossed the three month threshold with Everett, and there definitely is something to be said for three months being a point where you exhale and begin to see the fun of parenting. For his first month, Everett was content to stare at walls, scratch his face, and generally hang out. That was at his best. He also, of course, screamed a lot and generally required us to be doing something to him (feed, bathe, change) every minute of the day. The baby books and the internet tell you that infants will feed 8 to 12 times per day for the first month, but Everett so liked the milk he was getting that he fed 12 times a day for the first eight weeks! He was especially cranky during evenings, to the point that Brandi often suggested that he had colic. We had a cavalcade of visitors to help us weather the storm of screams. I had some success with swaddling and turning him on his side, and I would occasionally put him on one of the stairs (closely monitored) to calm him down. I set a record of getting peed on three times in the span of 12 hours that still stands to this day.

Month two was filled with a lot of exasperation with the fact that Everett was still being a baby. Here are some of the things he could have done in month two that would have helped us out: space out his feedings (which, to his credit, he did toward the end of the month) and maybe smile or make sustained eye contact or give us just a little something in exchange for all the time we were investing in him. Everett added smiling to his repertoire, but whenever he smiled it seemed like an accident. And he'd look at people, sort of. More like look past them.

Month three brought additional, purposeful smiles, plus more activity and something that almost resembled interaction--he was looking more at people and giving them some sustained attention. This month was filled with travel, as I spent 19 days away from home and did not spend a single Friday night in my own bed. Brandi was a champ, getting Everett to sleep longer and then going back to work. We tried reading and toys and other things with little luck and varying consistency, but mostly we just marveled at a little boy adjusting to the world around him. Sometime in month three we determined that Everett is a pretty chill little kid--it's been a while since he cried for any sustained time. He's chunked up over the last several weeks, moving from below average to above average in weight.

Now that he's three months old, Everett smiles on a regular basis, and he even mixes in the occasional giggle. His favorite place to be is definitely the changing table, where he always smiles and laughs. He also will smile if he's not ready to go to bed--okay, mostly he cries and squirms, but if he's been having a good time, he will test you with a playful smile to see if you want to pick him back up. He babbles to himself, especially when he's sitting in his carseat. He's generally a calm baby, but he'll kick up a storm in no time.

Palindrome Poems

When I was living in Bedford, I had a lot of free time on my hands. How much free time? Well, I wrote two of the longest and most complex palindrome poems that have ever been created. They got deleted when I closed my old website, so here they are for posterity.


#1:
I saw suine go try tramp art,
laid arena, crania, gyms,
awe lupine poem,
now straw or cotton.
Wolf robbed evil itself
for a wade in edifices
(animal’s raw nit ego, temper).
Prevent it.
Never prep me to get in war,
slam in a sec if I denied a war off,
lest I lived ebb or flow.
Not to crow, arts won me.
Open, I pule:
was my gain arcane,
radial trap, martyr to genius?
Was I?


#2:
I made ill a sane, rare tale of wonder.
A dewy myth gimps as I ran,
I’m esodic,
I nap tons, rent rapture, damn a metal.
Otiose was I, lived a broke embargo.
Two new, as I won in a test.
One rewield, I defer,
saw names rap satire.
Monotone? No.
To no merit, a sparse man was refed.
Idle, I were not set.
An “I” now is a “we.”
Now, to grab meek or bad evil is awe,
so I to late, manmade rut.
Partners not panic, I do;
seminar is asp mighty.
My, we dared now foe, later arenas.
Allied am I.

40 years and 3 months

Christmas 2010

Today is a very special day. April 18, 2011 would have been my parents 40th wedding anniversary. I used to have trouble remembering their wedding day, and I remember many times talking to my mother when I was in college and her reminding me more than once that it was their special day, and I would say, "Oh, oops, sorry...I forgot Mom--Happy Anniversary!", not dwelling as much on it as I should have.

Once I got older and especially once I was married I realized the significance and just what a history those decades provide. This past week I considered my parents wedding day even more so than ever before and thought about my mom constantly. How do you imagine such a day passing without that partner to write another day with you? Those decades of history must include many challenges of building a strong relationship that can get you to number 40. I know they included the growing pains of raising a family and supporting each other through changing careers mid-life. Looking back now so close to our tragedy they all look like such good years with sweet memories.

I can't help but feel yet another mixture of emotions on this special and sad day. 40 years doesn't happen very often anymore, and I am happy to have been there for a small part in it. And yet sad because to love so strong and so much comes at such a high price. I know life will go on, and we have a big reminder of that as today is also Everett Winston's 3 month birthday. On yet another heartbreaking milestone for my family, and especially for my Mom, who is missing her best friend, we celebrate the life and wonderment of our baby boy.

Happy Anniversary, Momma and Daddy. For you are still in our hearts as one special and loving couple.
Happy 3 Months, Everett Winston. May you look back in 36 years and be reaping the benefits of your parents long and happy marriage.

For more pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/daniel.lauve

Charlie Sheen vs. a Random Sentence Generator

Random Sentence Generator: "The godlike floors are writing on Jupiter."

Charlie Sheen: "I'm tired of pretending I'm not a total bitchin' rock star from Mars."

RSG: "A sane bowl of soup is loving outside of the faces."

CS: "Basically, they strapped on their diapers."

RSG: "The onions laugh incredibly very far away from the iPhones."

CS: "There's a new sheriff in town and he has an army of assassins."

RSG: "The sexist skirt had been dancing horribly in the Titanic very far away from the lightbulbs."

CS: "It's been a tsunami of media and I've been riding it on a mercury surfboard."

RSG: "The muscular forest will be drinking well in a person's couch on the monks."

CS: "Your face will melt off and your children will weep over your exploded body."

RSG: "The bombs were driving outside of the banana."

CS: "I don't have burnout in my gear box."

RSG: "A glove wants to attack on top of the rock band."

CS: "They picked a fight with a warlock."

RSG: "The truly, truly nice-looking CDs want to fall normally in space."

CS: "I'm just going to sail across the winds of the universe with my goddesses."

RSG: "The wall is communicating in Hogwarts while communicating very close to the disco singers."

CS: "Clearly, I have defeated this earthworm with my words. Imagine what I would have done with my fire-breathing fists."

RSG: "A monkey will be standing."

CS: "I will deploy my ordinance to the ground."

RSG: "Popeye is exploding beside Starbucks."

CS: "It's a turd that opens on a tugboat."

RSG: "The peculiar terrorists were singing somewhat far away from the criminal."

CS: "I'm dealing with soft targets, and it's just strafing runs in my underwear before my first cup of coffee."

RSG: "The dictionaries want to eat well inside of the thieves."

CS: "Resentments are the rocket fuel that lives in the tip of my saber."


Conclusion: Charlie Sheen is more likely to speak in the first person.

Flux Capacitor

This post is dedicated to Everett's aunt Cristina, who was a huge help to us as we got back from a rough trip through East Texas. She and her fiance Daniel came over with lots of food and helped us get back on our feet in Austin.




With all of the unrest in Libya, I have been thinking about how that would affect a possible reboot of the Back to the Future franchise. Libyans, as you may know, compose one of the more major plot points of the original trilogy. How might Robert Zemeckis recast his film if he were forced to exclude a certain North African nation whose currency is highly radioactive materials? Here's how I think that might go:

[Cristina McFly straps on a guitar in front of a large amplifier. She turns up all the knobs, grabs a pick, and just as she is about to begin playing, Doc Mejia hurriedly enters the room.]

Doc [clutching the newspaper from January 19]: Marty! Marty! Amazing news! Everett Winston Lauve was born on January 18 at 11:47 p.m.!

Cristina: Yeah, I know! Wait, let me see that paper!

[looking at the photo on page D1] There's the little kid, oh and there's Brandi, and Daniel, and Jimmy and Connie and Brent, and dad and mom and Alicia. Wait a minute, what happened? I'm not in that picture. It's like I've been erased!

Doc: Erased from existence...

Cristina: Doc, what can we do?

Doc: Well, actually there is something we can do. Let me show you something.

[cut to the parking lot at the Twin Pines Mall.]

Doc: Marty, look at the my stopwatch and Einstein's. They're exactly one minute apart!

Cristina: Wait a minute, Doc, are you trying to tell me that you built a time machine...out of a DeLorean?

Doc: Well, I figured, If you're going to build a time machine, why not do it in style?

Cristina: What about the plutonium?

Doc: The Tunisians wanted me to build them an atomic bomb, so I took the plutonium and built them a dud out of pinball machine parts!

Cristina: Doc, I've got an idea, if this time machine can take me back in time, I can hop back into that picture at the hospital!

Doc: Great Scot! That's a hell of an idea. Well, you'd better get going. Oh no...they've found me...I don't know how, but they've found me.

Cristina: Who?

Doc: Who do you think, the Tunisians! Run for it, Marty!

[Marty drives through the parking lot, frantically trying to get it up to 88 miles per hour. After a loud flash, the DeLorean is covered in smoke. Marty opens the door to find that he is in the Twin Pines Mall parking lot.]

Cristina: Wait a minute, I'm still in 1985.

Doc: Yeah, I think Einstein's stopwatch got screwed up. He's been sitting here next to me, and now his watch is ten minutes ahead of mine. I'm afraid the time machine doesn't work.

Cristina: So what do we do about the picture?

Doc: Couldn't you just get Daniel to post a picture of you and Everett on his blog?

Cristina: Yeah, that's not a bad idea. Hey, what happened to the Tunisians?

Doc: Oh, my mistake. They were actually Algerians. They got duped into giving some uranium to a different scientist who was at the Lone Oaks Mall. Easy to get confused actually. I gave them directions. They couldn't have been nicer.

Cristina: Care to get a drink somewhere?

Doc: Sounds good, Marty. There's a bar nearby that has a smoking room.

Cristina: Well, I left my smoking jacket at home. Can I borrow yours?

Doc: Robes? Where we're going we don't need robes.

On Transmitting Likes to Children

Brandi was shooting a video of Everett in his Texas Rangers onesie this morning. She asked him why he likes the Rangers, and then she said, "Of course, we know you're going to be a Cardinals fan." For whatever reason, the idea of Everett becoming a Cardinals fan wasn't completely warm and fuzzy for me.

Lots of parents try to get their kids into the things they're into. But getting Everett to become a Cardinals fan seems like a stretch. My becoming a Cardinals fan is rooted in several things--the 1980s, Ozzie/Willie/Vince, AstroTurf--that don't apply anymore. Plus, we're not anywhere near St. Louis, and we have no plans to be. It would be more reasonable to expect him to be a Texas or A&M fan, since they're both local teams and can go to the games whenever we want.

My main question with Everett becoming a Cardinals fan, though, is not "how" but "why". The process of finding a favorite sports team is so much fun--why provide a shortcut just to push the process in the direction of your favorite team? There are lots of things, not just sports teams but cultural touchstones like Star Wars and Harry Potter, whose appeal is in large part a function of the time when we were exposed to them, plus a number of other factors we can't replicate in our kids. It seems like you should not want your children to like your favorite things but that you should want your children to like their own things as much as you like yours.

That being said, there's definitely an argument to be made for family favorites. The fact that my dad went to Dallas Cowboys games at the Cotton Bowl as a kid (and rode the Fair Park roller coaster during halftime) is a sufficient reason for me to follow them. The Cowboys, Aggies, Tar Heels, and Cardinals are a big deal to me because they're part of a shared family history, which is obviously important. Watching Jordan's shot in 1982 or Ozzie's home run in 1985 is, to me, a family moment because I was living with my family in those places when those moments happened. But so is seeing highlights of Roger Staubach or Don Meredith, even though they were playing before I was born. We follow certain teams together, we talk about them together, and it helps a lot to have those things that you can share with each other and even pass down.

So here's the conclusion I've reached. In terms of getting your children into the things that you're into, you should pass down exactly one favorite thing to your children. And that thing is The Beatles. (The rest will happen on its own, or not at all, both of which are okay.)

p.s. The Rangers onesie was a gift from one of my sales reps. My first week back at work after Everett was born was my group's yearly sales conference. The sales reps brought baby clothes representing their regions' sports teams--Texas Rangers, Oakland A's, Penn State Nittany Lions, Minnesota Vikings, and Ohio State Buckeyes (a Brutus Buckeye plush toy, actually). So Everett has worn clothes from four relatively random teams without yet having worn Cardinals, Aggies, or Longhorns gear. So I guess you could say I'm doing a good job of not indoctrinating him into my favorite sports teams. Or you could say that I'm doing a good job of indoctrinating him into sports in general.

Everett's Birth Story

http://picasaweb.google.com/daniel.lauve/Everett

January 18, 2011 started like pretty much any other day, except that Brandi was complaining of a "low ache" as she was getting ready for work. With the previous two OB appointments showing some progress, we had suspected that the baby might come over the holiday weekend. Brandi had hopefully said over and over again that she was looking forward to a January 15 baby, so when the weekend ended, we reset our expectations and got ready for a short work week.

After my brisk walk in the neighborhood ended at 7am, I noticed that my hips seemed very loose and my lower back was aching. I felt different and I also remembered that our Bradley teacher had told us to ignore early signs of labor. Taking your mind off of it would make it seem not as bad or as long. I didn't want to stay home and obsess over the fact that this could be the day that Everett would be born, so I went to the office!

I went to a couple of meetings at work and by lunchtime, I could tell that the labor cues were getting stronger, although it still didn't feel like any of the pains were true contractions that could be timed. I knew it was time to go home when I kept having to lean on my desk in my cube to relieve the intensity of the lower back pain. I wrapped up what I could at work and had this thought that I would go home and get out of my dress and boots and try to take a nap and see if that made me feel any better. When I couldn't nap because the pain was too much, I called my mom and told her that it was probably time for them to start heading to Austin.

Brandi called me at a little before noon telling me that she was planning on heading home for the day and that I should plan to be home a little early. An hour later she called and asked me to be home as soon as I could. So I wrapped up everything I could think of at the office and announced that I was leaving to be with my wife.

Leaving work in the middle of the day, when you have a wife eight and a half months pregnant, definitely raises some eyebrows. I was feeling full of energy as I raced down Mopac, and when I got to the house I just wanted to run up and give Brandi a big hug and kiss and ask her, "Are you ready to do this!!!" But Brandi had an entirely different energy--she was in the bathtub looking very serene, and it was obvious she was in pain. It was nearly 3:00 p.m., and the contractions were 7 or 8 minutes apart.

I just remember feeling very focused throughout early labor, gearing up for what I knew was going to be an intense experience. I was anxious for Daniel to get home. After 12 weeks of classes and preparation, I knew that he was an integral part in making me feel at ease and reminding me that we could do this. When he arrived and sat on the side of tub and let me lean into him I felt strangely calm and so much love.

By 4:00, the contractions were five minutes apart and a minute long. I was running around the house packing and calling our doctor and our doula, running back to the bathroom every five minutes to be with Brandi through a contraction. I felt a little bit like a plate spinner, but I also knew I had the easy part. By 5:00, the contractions were three to four minutes apart. We left the house at 5:30 and made the five-minute trip to the hospital.

Seton Southwest is a small hospital in the southwest corner of Austin. It has 19 beds, 7 for labor and delivery. We had known that labor and delivery was at capacity for a week, so before we got to our room we had to stay in a small triage room for a little while. When we first arrived at the hospital, they did an exam to see what Brandi's progress was. Dilation is sort of like a watched pot. It is something that isn't very predictable, so she made the decision to not find out how dilated she was so that it didn't discourage her in any way. I later asked the nurse privately and she was at 4 centimeters. Brandi continued to have regular contractions, and she found numerous ways to deal with them. She would lay on her side in bed, lean on me while walking around the hospital, or use the exercise ball we brought.

Around 7:00 p.m., we were walking in the hall, and we turned the corner and saw my parents, they had just arrived to the hospital. It tugged at my heart to see them, however I knew I needed to stay focused. I walked with them a little and after watching one of the stronger contractions, my Daddy was ready to go to the waiting room so that he didn't have to see his little girl in pain! I felt like the contractions that I was having right before we left for the hospital were painful, but I later discovered that was somewhat naive. The pain increased significantly at the hospital and twice the thought of an epidural crossed my mind.

It was difficult seeing her in so much pain, but it was good to hear Jessica, our doula, say that her contractions were productive. She had some very difficult ones, and she wanted me right in her face for each and every one. At one point, I stepped away to throw some goldfish down my throat (I hadn't eaten in 9 hours), and I finished a bite right as another contraction was starting. So I ran over to Brandi, and when the contraction was over Brandi said, frustrated, "You need GUM!!!" Apparently goldfish breath is not her favorite. But she was incredibly focused and strong throughout the whole ordeal.

Both Daniel and Jessica were the best team a laboring woman could have. Daniel was encouraging me and full of energy. During a contraction, I didn't take my eyes off of him. He kept the 9 hours of music that he compiled for the labor going, and told me stories that kept me focused on us. Jessica offered reassurance that everything was going as it should, kept us calm, and kept the right amount of pressure on my lower back so that Daniel could focus on talking to me.

Brandi was fully dilated by 10:00 p.m., but her water still hadn't broken yet. So our doctor offered to break it for her, using a device that looks like the offspring of a chopstick and an orange peeler. After that she was solidly into the pushing phase. Brandi was very tired at this point, and it was a challenge for her to muster the energy to push him out, but she did an amazing job.

Once I was past transition and into 2nd stage labor, my contractions started feeling "pushy" as the nurse put it, and they weren't as painful. My body pretty much started pushing on it's own. I looked at the clock on the wall in front of me at 11:30 p.m. and will never forget telling the birthing team that his birthday was going to be the 18th and that it was time for him to get here. Everett Winston Lauve arrived at 10:47 p.m., all 7 pounds 9 ounces and 20 1/2 inches.

I can't say enough about what a superstar Brandi was through the whole process, from her months of preparation to her pushing through all kinds of pain and fatigue at the hospital. I will never, ever compare anything to what a woman goes through in childbirth, not even the time we were at a restaurant and my meal arrived ten minutes after everyone else's.

As soon as the delivery was over, the pain went away and I felt nothing but elation and adrenaline. Our baby was welcomed into the world soon after with an audience of family. All of our parents, Daniel's sister Alicia and my brother Brent were there to greet him. I haven't completely forgotten the pain and yet the experience was so powerful and uncomplicated, I would do it all over again for our beautiful boy!

p.s. There are a lot of details that we left out of this particular retelling, for the sake of internet propriety. If you want to hear more, just ask Brandi.

Winston James "Jimmy" Nunez, Jr--My Daddy

I have thought about this post for several days, knowing that a blog about our newborn baby boy would not be complete without honoring my Daddy's memory and talking about his passing. I had the most wonderful rewarding experience of my life and had my heart broken less than two days later. I've shared many stories about my Dad, and many of my friends have met him, too. So many people have reached out to console us--I've received countless cards, messages and emails and I know even more are keeping us in their thoughts and prayers as my family and I learn to live a different life without our compass. Below is something that I wrote and shared at the Rosary and viewing. The other passage is the eulogy that our Pastor and family friend, Father Ron, read at Daddy's funeral. These will give even more insight into the great man my Father was.

My Daddy

While I knew that someday I could be faced with the moment of deciding if I would speak at my dad’s funeral, I never expected it to be this soon. I would like to say that I made the choice to speak here tonight on my own accord. However, I know my Daddy has been right beside me these past three days and in his own way, encouraging me to share some special thoughts with all of you. Because he knows this is one way that I grieve and cope, to write and share. I could go on for hours about him but I’m going to try and keep it brief for your sakes. We had a very special relationship. He looked forward to getting my birthday cards and Father’s Day cards in the mail because I almost always wrote a lengthy message inside them; he would pull out his reading glasses before even opening the card. So I guess the thing to say now is Daddy, pull out your reading glasses.

There are so many things I can say about him. I could talk to you about how much he loved the weather. He had his own rain gauge and wind meter, and one of my favorite things to do would be to call him and ask, “What’s the weather going to be like?” When I used to travel for work, he would even give me forecasts for all the cities I was traveling to. He was awed by storms, and as severe as Hurricane Rita was, he was fascinated by it.

Many of my favorite recent memories surround his trips to Austin to visit me. If you know my Daddy, you know a few other things about him: he’s quite the handyman, he doesn’t like to sit still, and he loves margaritas. It’s amazing how he could go from jogging on Town Lake, to painting or doing other home projects to help us out, to finishing off the night with margaritas and Mexican food, his favorite.

Several years ago my Daddy taught me to run, running backwards in front of me for the first mile, encouraging me the whole way. I never go on a jog that I don’t think about my father because he is such a part of the reason I run. We shared the ups and downs of running and understood what the other person was going through. He faithfully ran at Ebenezer Park, which is out on Sam Rayburn Lake. He ran there for so many years that he liked to call the park his own.

Christmas is always one of my favorite times of the year, and though he never would have said it like I would, I think it was one of his favorite times as well. Ever since Brent and I were little, we had a family tradition of making Christmas sugar cookies together, and more recently, Dad and I were the great team that frosted the cookies. He loved hearing me sing beside him at Christmas Mass, and Silent Night was his favorite. Once my Paw Paw passed away, my dad played Santa Claus at our Memaw’s house to a lot of the kids you see here tonight and some of their parents.

I have very fond memories of being at Crystal Beach with my whole extended family. Many summers in the past, there were Domecs, Nunezes, Dupuis, Jennusas, Breauxs and many others together sharing the same beach. We have such a big family, with so many people for us to love. My Daddy enjoyed it all: playing volleyball with family, jogging on the beach, sitting in the shade reading his paper, drinking a beer and listening to the waves at Crystal Beach.

Growing up, there were times when I thought my dad was too set in his ways, but there were many signs recently that caused me to see a different side of my dad. I know in the last 15 years or so I have seen him soften his stances on a few things. He swore off treadmills early on, but he eventually purchased one at my mom’s request and learned to enjoy running on it regularly when he couldn’t get to Ebenezer Park. He never liked exotic foods, but in recent years he let Brent and me introduce him to many new cuisines. The most significant change has been his relationship with the church. Recently he started attending Bible studies and helping out at church functions, and last year he became a Eucharistic minister.

He always has had a soft spot for me. However, I think that soft spot had grown tremendously to reach out to other people and places. And I saw this right up until the day he died. We don’t know what the reports will show on my dad’s condition; I believe that his heart just burst with joy, an overwhelming amount of joy. He had the opportunity to meet his first grandson who was named after him, came 11 days early with twin toes like my Daddy and me for the occasion. And he had his family around him, he felt good, looked good, and was doing one of the things he loved when he died. How many people can say that?

God made his heart just right and just open enough that He could receive him into his kingdom. And while we’ll never fully understand why this happened, my heart will take comfort in knowing that my Daddy died happy, jogging all the way to Heaven.

Here is the eulogy that was shared at the funeral on January 24:

It is not easy for us to find the right words to say at a funeral; it is especially difficult at this one. Usually the most we can manage to say is: “You have my deepest sympathy.” But these words seem to inadequate to express what we feel in our hearts.

This morning, as we gather to celebrate the life of Jimmy Nunez, we are very personally aware of how mysterious our lives are. We have so many questions we would like answers to: Why? Why Jimmy? Why this? Why now? But these answers lie hidden with God, and so for all of us, the mystery remains. Today we gather to mourn the absence of Jimmy among us, this Church where he and Connie worshipped together so often, this Church where they were extraordinary Ministers of the Eucharist, this Church where Brandi and Brent received the Sacrament of Confirmation and we ask those “why” questions about the meaning of events in Jimmy’s life, questions about the meaning of human life and death. For this sudden and unexpected death of Jimmy makes us ask those questions with more intensity and urgency.

But we can’t help but be uplifted by the Scripture readings which Connie and her children chose for this Mass of Jimmy’s Resurrection. In the reading from the Book of Revelation, we hear the consoling words: “I, John, saw a new heaven and a new earth.” Jimmy is seeing that very sight at this moment for St. John reminds us that “God will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning…for the old order has passed away.” Then St. John goes on to tell us: “Behold, I make all things new.” Jimmy is a new creation right now enjoying the rewards he so richly deserves.

As we remember Jimmy, a man of laughter, life, and love, we keep thinking: “It doesn’t make any sense for us to be here this morning.” For Jimmy seemed to be in perfect health. He went jogging almost every day. He wasn’t overweight. He always ate healthy and 62 is NOT old! He was so in love with Connie. I remember once at a priests meeting we were discussing marriage at a round-table discussion and one of the priests asked: “Are there any really happy marriages in your parish?” I immediately said yes for I instantly thought of Connie and Jimmy. They were always together, here in church praying together, exercising their ministry as Eucharistic Ministers, at St. Raymond’s where they frequently attended Mass on Friday mornings and always attended Mass and Stations of the Cross during Lent. To all of us who knew and love them, we knew they were so very much in love. And that’s why when I got back to the parish on Thursday afternoon from our priests retreat and Regina told me Jimmy had died that morning while jogging in Austin, I simply could not believe it. And I still don’t have the right words to say to you today.

But there is one in our midst today who does have the right words for this gathering, one who is most able to speak to hearts full of sorrow. That one is Jesus, the one who spoke to us a moment ago in the Gospel when he told us: “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” Throughout his life, Jesus put people’s fears to flight by His preaching and teaching and healing. And because His words and deeds filled people’s hearts with faith, there was less room for fear. After His resurrection, Jesus continued to put fear to flight. And today, Jesus gives us the way and the means to calm our fears and to steady our hearts when He says, “You have faith in God; have faith also in me.”

Such faith does not remove our sorrow at Jimmy’s death. But faith gives us this assurance: for Jimmy and for all those made in the divine image, God’s mercy is everlasting.

We come to know God’s love for us most completely in Jesus Christ. For we just heard in our first Scripture reading from the Book of Wisdom that “the just man, though he die early, shall be at rest…for He who pleased God was loved.” Jimmy was a just man. He did indeed please God. The writer of of the Book of Wisdom reminds us that “having become perfect in a short while, he reached the fullness of a long career; for his soul was pleasing to the Lord.” Being Jimmy’s pastor these past 25 years, I know how pleasing he was to the Lord. And that’s why I know love is stronger than death. For that love is God’s eternal gift to those God makes his own in baptism. We are made in the image of the living God, and death—no matter when or how it comes—cannot erase that divine image from us. God holds us in life and in death because God never lets us go. Death has no power to snuff out the life of God that God shared all these years with Jimmy. Our faith affirms that we possess within ourselves the seed of eternal life. Our faith unites us with Jimmy; it overflows into an ocean of hope that Jimmy has found true life in God. This faith affirms what we shall soon pray during this liturgy, namely: “Lord, for your faithful people, life is CHANGED, not ENDED.” You and I know well how faithful Jimmy was to the Lord and to His Church. Therefore we know that Jimmy’s life has not ended but has only changed. For in death, Jimmy’s mortal life is changed, but it remains HIS life, with all the circumstances and aspects of his life.

I met with Connie, Brandi, and Brent on Saturday afternoon and I listened as they reminisced about Jimmy. They told me no matter where they went, He would scout out the area and find a place where he could go jogging. He loved to mow the lawns and always took pride in the lawn around his home, their camp, and the Rayburn Superette. Whenever he saw a lawn that wasn’t properly cared for or properly edged, he would wonder why those people didn’t take better care of what God has created for us and shared with us. His favorite meal was breakfast and he so enjoyed going out with the parishioners after Sunday morning Mass for breakfast together. And when they were traveling he could almost always find a Red Lobster to dine at. He made friends with everyone and nurtured those friendships over many years.

When he was a teenager, he began delivering newspapers from his bike and he had quite a long paper route. But years after, he would remember all the people he delivered papers to and could tell you exactly where they lived. He could probably even tell you if they paid on time. He enjoyed the beach where he and Connie took their family every summer for vacation. He was always neat and liked things being in order for he thought everything had a place and everything should be in its place. He worked for many years at Texaco as a pipefitter and then 26 years ago he and Connie moved their family to Rayburn Country where he owned and operated the Rayburn Superette. His employees greatly respected him for his sense of humor, his honesty, and his integrity. He enjoyed work and always worked hard but never considered it work, for he enjoyed interacting with people. When Jimmy’s dad died, Jimmy inherited the role of Santa Claus by giving out gifts every Christmas to the 50 or more family members that gathered for the family Christmas. Jimmy loved making others happy and he did it so well and so often. Brandi remembers always calling her Dad, asking his advice and his opinion on so many events in her life. How fitting that Jimmy was there when his first grandson, Everett, was born there in Austin late Tuesday evening. What a great grandfather Jimmy would have been!

But these memories are such a small part of who Jimmy was. Each of you have memories you could share with us that would bring both laughter and tears to our eyes, for Jimmy was a complex man who touched the lives of countless numbers of people. Jimmy brought joy to our lives. He was a Christian to the core of his being and that’s why we know a marvelous change is now taking place in Jimmy, for Jesus has prepared a place for Jimmy in His Father’s house. That place will surely have all the warmth and familiarity of the home that Jimmy shared with his family. In Jimmy’s new home, God’s mercies are never-ending.

Today, the heaviness of our hearts cannot be hidden from Jesus; yet He invites us to do what we are called to do whenever we celebrate the Eucharist. He says: “Lift up your hearts.” Jimmy’s heart was formed by the faith of his family and by the parishioners of this parish. Such was the heart that Jimmy lifted up to God in his love for Connie, Brandi and Daniel and Everett and Brent, in his prayers and in his generosity.

Jesus says: “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” These life-giving words can calm our hearts and fill them with faith, not fear; with hope, not despair; with love, not bitterness. For today Jesus walks with us on our road of sadness and confusion and assures us of His loving presence. This Eucharist that we offer for Jimmy is the meal of Christ’s presence, the meal that Jimmy shared with us so frequently. And because Jesus is Lord of the living, Jimmy lives with Jesus in our Father’s house for all eternity. Jimmy, one day we will see you there! Keep the lawns mowed till we get there!

Winding Down the Year, Gearing Up for Baby

http://picasaweb.google.com/daniel.lauve/December2010

So all of a sudden we turned around and we are two weeks away from the due date given for our baby boy. We had a great Christmas vacation, the whole time excited and aware that it was our last holiday as a family of two. I woke up with a cold that started out my week of vacation; it didn't damper my favorite holiday of the year! We left Austin on Wednesday and drove to be with my parents and brother in Jasper. We did our usual holiday baking, napping and catching up. Then on Christmas day we visited the Comeauxs and Heberts. We got to be a part of their Christmas, which was special because Amber and I shared many Christmases growing up. I enjoyed making bulletin boards for the girls rooms with Amber, and I think Daniel played football in the freezing cold with the kids.

We left on Sunday morning to go to San Antonio to be with Daniel's parents, sister Alicia and the Neelys. We'd decided to meet there for a mini-vacation in lieu of gifts. We had a good time walking the Riverwalk, checking out local restaurants (if you need good breakfast tacos go to Taco Haven) and playing games with the family.

Once we arrived back home we even had a pre-New Year's party with some of my college friends at our house. It was so fun to spend time with everyone and once we had laughed and caught up, the very next night Daniel and I thoroughly enjoyed a quiet New Year's.

Since we've gone back to work in 2011, we've really gotten to work! With less than a month to go, we got really busy preparing the house for the baby. The nursery is all finished. And after 5 extremely generous baby showers from our colleagues, friends and family, we have all the important stuff. We now spend each day open to the idea that he could bless us with his arrival any moment. We feel as ready as you can for something that will change your life forever in ways you can't really know until you experience it.

Here are some pictures of both the belly and the nursery-two of the things that have required a lot of work in the last month!

We also have a special announcement--our baby's name was decided on our Christmas trip through Texas after lots of thought, research and prayers: Everett Winston Lauve!

Everett, we already love you and can't wait to meet you soon.

Your parents,
Brandi & Daniel