I Say: Haters Gonna Hate

I'm new around here, but I'm a quick learner. One thing I've picked up on is that my mom's pretty awesome. She takes really good care of me, and she's looking pretty impressive for a woman who gave birth (to me) five days ago. Word on the street is that she used to have an amazing six-pack. Well I have news for you - it's already coming back. I mean check out these pictures.

Mom's 6-pack on 11/5

Off to do her 2-mile walk on the treadmill. That sounds far.

People say that I look like my dad so far, but based on these photographs I'm hoping that the Sin Quee genes take over. I'm told that Mom is some kind of hotshot triathlete and even has her own blog. I'm so proud of her.

And just in case you've forgotten, here's a little more proof that I'm cute.

 

I Say: Whew, I'm Tired

Today was my fifth day here, and I'm pooped. I made my first ever trip to the pediatrician. She was nice, and made Mom and Dad feel very comfortable. (They're worriers.) Plus she didn't do anything too mean to Simon Jr. the way the doctor in the hospital with the sharp blade did. I even took my first subway ride to get there and back. There were a couple of times when I thought I peed my diaper, but then I realized that it was just the train.

When we got home it was party central. First Auntie Kaye and Uncle Scott came to visit from New Jersey. I liked them. Auntie Kaye was at my mom's baby shower and brought me a lot of cool clothes and other goodies.

Auntie Kaye

But wait, there's more. Mom and Dad have a friend named Alix. She came to visit and brought bagels. While I still prefer other cuisine, Mom and Dad see to love bagels. Alix has a son who is old. He's two.

Next up was a visit from mom's co-worker Felicia and her husband Steven. They're awesome and always look out for Mom and Dad. And now me. 

And that still wasn't it. My cousin Ben came by to help Dad fix up my room. Dad tells me that Ben has been a huge help and that he's really lucky to have such a supportive family. I'm looking forward to meeting the rest of Dad's side of the family.

After all the excitement, I was exhausted. I slept for hours and even skipped a feeding, which is not something that I'm in the habit of doing. Dad left for a few hours, and I didn't wake up once. Most of the time I was laying down with Mom. Speaking of Mom, she's kinda awesome. For some strange reason, she's camera shy, which is crazy when you consider how good she looks. I mean, she just had me on Monday morning, and hasn't slept for more than two hours at a time since then - but I think she looks terrific. The same can't be said for her disposition. Check out what she said to Dad when he tried to take her picture.

Mom's teaching me to count. To one.

But don't worry. As you can tell from the fact that Mom went out with Dad in the first place, he's a persistent guy, so he'll get me some more pictures soon and I'll post them here. In the meantime here are a couple more of me, for no other reason than the fact that I'm cute. There are also more added to the photostream.

I Say: My Parents Sure Like Bob Dylan

My parents seem to like this song because they have been playing it to me. All day. And apparently they lyrics are on the screen. Which would be really helpful. If I could read! They sure are a sappy pair, and I wish at least one of them would grow a pair. But the song is really nice and I'm told that my namesake really liked this song too.

I Say: I Met Auntie Diane

I met my Auntie Diane Tuesday. She's one of my mom's five sisters. She brought Jamaican food, but Mom wasn't allowed to have any. (Dad had no such restrictions and showed no reluctance to having it.) She held me and fed me. She was my first visitor.

Auntie Diane thinks I'm cute. She's a doctor so she should know .

I Say: My Father is a Fool

I'm three days old and I'm already more mature than my father. And better looking. And I have more hair. He thought it was funny to mock me. I taught him a lesson.

That's it old man - keep mocking me.

I will knock you the f*ck out.

 

I Say: This Sure is a Nice Song

My mom and I listened to this song a lot last night. Like more times than I can count. (I can't really count yet, but you get the idea.) It's a nice song though, and it was written by Bob Dylan. I like his name.

I Say: This is More Mush

Like I said, my parents get a little emotional. So as not to be outdone by mom, dad wrote the following at his blog. (There sure are a lot of bloggers in this house.)

Since I started this blog, I've tried very hard to avoid posting about personal topics. Not because I don't like to share, but because I suspect that people check out a running and triathlon site for a little news, some advice, and maybe a bit of mindless trivia, rather than to hear about my feelings. The last time I made an exception and wrote about something personal was when my mother passed away. Thankfully, today I have something much happier to report. Our son, Simon Dylan Cane, was born two days ago on 10/31, and now that he and Nicole are home, I'm going to make another exception. Here are three reasons why I'm such a lucky man:

First, Simon is adorable. I'm the first to admit that I have "daddy goggles" and would think the kid was cute no matter what, but he's cute. He's named after my father (who was born Seymour, but was always called Sy) and bears a striking facial resemblance to my mother as a child. While I obviously wish he could have met his NY grandparents, it's nice that there's a little part of them in him. Clearly the boy knows how much love he's going to get because he decided to make his appearance three weeks early. Costume birthday parties every year for young Simon. 

Next, Nicole is an impressive woman. She has already chronicled her labor and delivery, so I'll spare you the details. Suffice to say that she had apparently been in labor for hours without knowing it. (She complained of "cramps", and it took my recognizing the timing pattern for us to realize that she was in fact having contractions every five minutes.) While in labor - without meaning to be funny - she asked if it was too late to do the video of her dancing to Maniac. She pushed the baby out in record time and without pain medications. She had some complications after Simon's arrival, but dealt with a scary situation with remarkable strength. Thankfully, all is well now. No doubt she will be a terrific mother. And in case you're wondering, depite the fact that it's less than 72-hours since the birth, and Nicole spent 24 of those hours doped up on morphine, 1/3 of her legendary six-pack is back, and she's wearing her pre-pregnancy jeans.

Finally, we are surrounded by an amazing community of friends, family, teammates, co-workers and students. (And for the record those categories are not mutually exclusive.) There has been no shortage of support throughout Nicole's pregnancy, and since Simon's arrival. People have been generous with their time and with gifts. (I have enough hand-me-down Baby Bjorns to open a store, so let me know if you need one.) All the calls, notes, texts, Facebook comments, and other communications since Simon's arrival have meant a lot to us. Nicole and I will do our best to ensure that our son is a happy and healthy boy, but I realize how imortant it will be for him (and us) to have support from all around. I'm grateful to all who have helped and will help.

And now back to our regularly scheduled blogging.