John Patrick and Dad hanging out together before church on Sunday morning.

Tonsillectomy

Although I tried to tell John Patrick I had a tonsillectomy when I was in first grade, he just wouldn't listen to me and insisted on removing my tonsils himself.

Proud Papa

Saturday morning, after my weekly trail run in Shelby Bottoms, I met Jude and John Patrick at the tennis courts in Shelby Park at 8:30 a.m. He and I went to Bongo Java East in East Nashville, where he slept in his stroller while I drank a glass of orange juice and read the sports page from the Saturday morning Tennessean. After a little while, he woke up and started fussing a bit. I unsnapped the seat belt in the stroller and lifted him out, so he could take a look around the coffee shop.

I love the sound and smell of a coffee shop on a weekend morning. People sit at tables and talk to each other in low murmurs, sipping coffee and eating breakfast. The sound of the barista making lattes, mochas, etc., is soothing, as is the smell of hot coffee. It's a good feeling to know the whole day lies ahead of you.

As John Patrick took in the surroundings, I lifted him in the air several times. Each time I lifted him in the air, he smiled or laughed. People sitting around me smiled back at him, which I think is a reflex reaction when one sees an infant enjoying himself. A couple walked up to me, carrying what I later learned was their three month old infant in a car seat.

"How old is your son," they asked. When I replied, "he just turned five months old Thursday," they were surprised. "His neck is so strong and he can hold his head up straight when you lift him in the air," they marveled. Literally beaming at this point, I modestly mentioned the fact that Jude and I had been working diligently to make sure John Patrick had "tummy time" several times each day, to strengthen his neck. Man, was I proud of him.

Sometimes, after a long day, a man just needs to take his clothes off, kick his feet up and relax.

Bonnaroo Bound!

Here, John Patrick is modeling the lastest in infant tye dye wear (courtesy of Aunt Tracy Hearn), as we plan our trip to Bonnaroo next year.

Baseball is a simple game. You throw the baseball, you catch the baseball, you hit the baseball, then you eat the baseball.

Baseball and Babies

Thursday night, Jude, John Patrick and I went to the Nashville Sounds' season finale at Greer Stadium, a mile or so from our house. Renewal House was one of the highlighted charities for that night's game and a client's son was scheduled to throw out the first pitch, which was cool.

It was a beautiful night for baseball, with temperatures in the low 80s and a slight breeze. A little while after the game started, I left Jude at the Renewal House display just inside the front gate, as John Patrick and I went inside to watch some baseball. It was about 7 p.m., dinner time for him, so I took his bottle with me and strolled him out to the bleachers, where there was plenty of space to spread out.

As the sun set in the west past the left field wall and the famous guitar shaped scoreboard, I sat in the first row of the bleachers down the right field line and gave my son a bottle. Surrounded by the familiar sounds of a minor league baseball game - children laughing, beer vendors yelling, people talking, etc. - John Patrick stared up at me with his blue eyes, content, and drank his bottle, while I held him in my arms. It was probably one of the top 10 moments of my life.

Weekend Update

As I think I've mentioned before, I find myself really, really looking forward to Friday afternoon and the end of a work week, knowing that I've got the weekend to spend with John Patrick and Jude. Conversely, Sunday evenings are depressing, since I'll be returning to work the next morning and my time with my family will be necessarily limited.

The last couple of weeks, Jude and I have really enjoyed watching the Summer Olympics from Beijing, China. The first week, we were absolutely transfixed (as was everyone else in the country) by Michael Phelps' pursuit of excellence in the swimming pool, which culminated in his winning a record eight gold medals. Last week, we watched mainstream events, like men's basketball, tennis and track and field (one of my favorites). We also watched obscure events, like trampoline, table tennis, crew, volleyball and synchronized swimming. It's sad, tonight, that the 2008 Summer Olympics are over, since we had enjoyed coming home from work each night and watching the athletes compete.

Saturday morning, Jude and John Patrick accompanied me to Shelby Bottoms for my morning run, which was pretty cool (the weather, however, was hot and humic). Jude went for a walk with him in the stroller, while I ran on the Cornelia Fort Trail. They stopped in the new visitor's center, which is nice. There were a lot of people at the park (cyclists, walkers, runners and youth football teams) engaged in a variety of activities. It's great to see the park getting so much use.

Sunday morning, Jude, John Patrick and I went to church at St. Patrick's. Unfortunately, John Patrick wasn't in the mood for church. He started fussing during the homily, so I took him outside. He wasn't sleepy and he continued fussing for a half hour or so, until Jude came outside and we returned home. Of course, by the time we had gotten home, he was fast asleep in his car seat. Go figure.

As a side note, Jude recently read that at five months of age, an infant should be able to hold his bottle, while he is feeding. So, last night, when she fed John Patrick before he went to bed, Jude let go of the bottle after he put his hands around it. He held the bottle himself and continued to drink out of it. Kind of amazing, huh?

Sunday Morning at St. Patrick's

Last weekend, Jude's mother, Jane White, was in town for a visit and to spend some time with John Patrick. She stayed with us and we had a nice, family weekend together. Jude and I love to watch her with John Patrick, in part because it's readily apparent how much she loves him.

Sunday morning, the four of us went to church at St. Patrick's. Jude and I are still adjusting to life without our priest, Father Eric Fowlkes, who was moved to a church in Hendersonville by Bishop Choby a little more than a month ago. Anyway, after Father Perkin finished his homily, John Patrick began to get antsy. Jude was holding him when he started wriggling in her arms, then began to fuss. She handed him to me and I walked him to the back of the church. When he continued to fuss, I walked outside into the Sunday morning sunshine.

Carrying him in my arms, I walked to the left toward the Rectory, which is an old house next door to the church. I noticed a walkway that lead between the two buildings, which was shaded by a couple of small trees. We walked down the walkway and I noticed an old, cement statue of the Virgin Mary, in the shade, her back to the church. I stood there, gazing at the statue and listening to the congregation singing inside the walls of our venerable old church. Within a minute or two, John Patrick was asleep in my arms. I rocked him gently, back and forth, and just watched him sleep. It was one of those moments I don't want to forget, because he looked so peaceful and secure as I held him.

I walked back inside the church just in time to get in line to take communion, as John Patrick slept in my arms.

This is a recent photo of Jude and John Patrick that I really like. It was taken on our front porch.

Singing in the Rain

Last week, I emailed my friend and former paralegal, Tracie Carter, to remind her she still hadn't seen John Patrick, yet. We agreed to meet Wednesday (tonight), after work, at Rumor's Wine Bar on 12th Avenue for a glass of wine.

This afternoon, I left work a little early and rushed home. My plan was to stroll with John Patrick up to the Wine Bar and introduce him to Tracie, in person. I loaded him in the stroller and started down the sidewalk in front of our house, when I looked up at the sky and noticed some rather ominous, gray clouds directly above us. Now, we haven't had any rain in almost three weeks, so I figured there was no way it would rain on us as we strolled to the Wine Bar. Wrong!

By the time we got to 10th Avenue, it was sprinkling. Jude called me on my cell phone and asked if I wanted her to come pick us up. I told her we'd be fine, since we were only five or ten minutes away from the Wine Bar. Plus, for the most part, I was able to walk under trees hanging over the sidewalk, which kept us out of the rain. As I turned left onto 12th Avenue, though, it started raining harder.

I picked up the pace considerably, as John Patrick looked around, curiously, cozy and dry inside the stroller. I, of course, was getting soaked. Finally, I started trotting down the sidewalk, pushing the stroller ahead of me. Sure enough, a car in traffic beside me stopped, the window rolled down, and my friend Johnathan Cole hollered at me, laughing, and asked if I needed a ride. Dripping wet, I told him we were fine, since we just had another block or two to go.

Right as we arrived at the Wine Bar, the bottom really fell out, and it started pouring. One of the waitresses opened the door for us, and I wheeled John Patrick inside just in the nick of time. There were three women at the bar, all of whom turned around and laughed, then marveled at how cute John Patrick looked. I ordered a glass of wine and sat down at a table in the front of the bar to wait for Tracie. John Patrick smiled up at me and laughed as I talked to him.

A little while later, Tracie arrived and we had a nice chat. John Patrick was awake the entire time we were there, so Tracie was able to hold him and really give him the once over. Laughing, she said he looked just like me. That tickled me to death, as it always does, and I related to Jude Tracie's comments about the resemblance when I got home. She just shook her head and sighed.

Milestones

Wow. It seems like every couple of days, John Patrick passes a new milestone. Many are small, but noteworthy to Jude and me, nonetheless. Sometimes, it's a noise he's never made before. Other times, he laughs at something Jude or I do for the first time . . . a new song or activity that makes him laugh. Still other times, it's trying to put an outfit on him that is suddenly too small for him to wear.

Tonight, though, John Patrick passed a big milestone. For the first time, Jude fed him something other than breast milk or formula from a bottle. She mixed a little formula, water and "Beech Nut Rice Cereal for Baby." Perhaps the most amazing thing is she fed it to him with a tiny, pink baby spoon, while he sat in his bouncy seat on the dining room table.

It was pretty funny, because the first time she put a spoonful of the formula-cereal mixture in his mouth, his eyes widened and he looked really surprised and confused. Then, rather than spit it out, he swallowed it. He took to it like a duck to water, as each spoonful seemed to go down a bit easier than the last one. It was pretty crazy, really.

The Boulevard (Belmont, not Belle Meade)

On most Saturday mornings, I get up early and go for a run on the trails at Shelby Bottoms in East Nashville. After I finish my run, I meet Jude at the tennis courts at Shelby Park at 8:30 a.m., pick up John Patrick, then get coffee and meet Jude at home so he can eat at 10 a.m. Yesterday, I slept in, even though Jude planned to play tennis (due, no doubt, to the fact I had stayed up until almost 3 a.m. Friday night playing in a free online poker tournament - finished 22nd out of 5,000 - not too shabby!).

Anyway, I was preparing to take John Patrick for a walk to Bongo Java on Belmont Boulevard, when the telephone rang. It was Jude calling from Shelby Park. There had been a miscommunication and her friend, Allison, hadn't showed up to play tennis. We agreed to meet at Bongo Java, so Jude could take a walk with John Patrick on Belmont Boulevard, while I drove her Honda Pilot home.

As John Patrick and I strolled up to Bongo Java, we saw Jude walking across the street. Perfect timing! I handed off John Patrick to her and I was about leave, we saw our friend, Harriet Goodrich, walking up Belmont Boulevard. Harriet just graduated from law school, took the bar exam and is starting to work for a law firm in Nashville this fall. We hadn't seen her in quite a while, so it was great to chat and introduce her to John Patrick.

Bookworm

John Patrick, reading aloud a selection from his extensive library of children's books.

Morning Bliss

On most weekday mornings, Jude gets up first, showers and gets dressed, then wakes John Patrick. Next, she feeds him while I get up and shower, after which I take over and watch him until our nanny arrives at 8:30 a.m. I'm always a little jealous, because he's so happy to see her each morning.

It's a real treat to wake John Patrick after a night's sleep. First, he looks up from his crib and opens his blue eyes really wide. Then, he breaks into a huge smile, seeming to convey surprise and delight that it's morning and you're there to greet him, to kiss him and to love him.

Friday morning, Jude had to be at work early for a meeting. As she was about to leave, I woke John Patrick. He stared up at me with his sleepy, innocent eyes. Then, he smiled and started kicking his feet, which he does when he's happy or excited. My heart was filled with love for him, as I lifted him out of the crib to start his day.

After I changed him, I gave him a bottle. As he drank the bottle of breast milk, he looked up at me, perfectly content. I love feeding him, because it's a quiet, peaceful few minutes of one-on-contact with him. It's good bonding time.

John Patrick finished his bottle about 7:15 a.m. Then, I loaded him in the stroller and we walked up to the Frothy Monkey on 12th Avenue. It was a beautiful morning - not too hot - and for the first time, I could feel the end of summer approaching. At the Frothy Monkey, I ate breakfast while John Patrick looked all around, occasionally cooing to himself. On the walk back home, he fell asleep. Our nanny, Denise Hoey, got to the house right after I did, so I could leave for work.

Pretty near a perfect morning.

Airplane!

Is there anything in life that's more fun than playing "airplane" with your son?

This morning, Jude took John Patrick downstairs after she fed him, so I could sleep in a bit before church. She brought him back upstairs to me, in bed, at 9 a.m., while she took a shower. I alternated between standing him on my chest and lifting him in the air, like an airplane, as I lay in bed. Every time I lifted him into the air, he would smile and squeal with delight. His squealing was high pitched - it sounded like a dog whistle - and so funny, I'd laugh every time he did it, which would make him smile even more.

Those are moments to treasure, I think.

Walking Tall

For some reason, John Patrick looks older in this photo. I'm thinking it's because it looks like he's standing up and maybe, walking, on my chest.

Aunt Cyndi

Cyndi, getting some face time with John Patrick at her home in Neptune Beach, Florida.

Car Dating

It's always difficult to car date, before you get your driver's license. Here, John Patrick and Finn spend some quality time together on their first car date, while trying to ignore their mommies in the front seat.

How about a little privacy?

Sometimes, after a long day at the beach, it's nice to grab a little nap before you go home.

Coppertone Tan

John Patrick, soaking up the rays at the beach.

John Patrick and Finn Baines, hanging out on the exercise mat at the Baines' house in Neptune Beach, Florida.

Flying the Friendly Skies

I'd be remiss if I didn't post a word or two about the trip Jude and John Patrick took last weekend to Neptune Beach, Florida, to see our friends Troy and Cyndi and their children, Wolf, Scout and Finn. Cyndi is Jude's best friend (they went to law school at Vanderbilt together), a fellow lawyer and a mommy three times over. Her daughter, Finn, was born about two months before John Patrick, so Cyndi has been an invaluable resource for Jude (and me) as we find our way as first time parents.

Normally, Jude takes a trip to see Cyndi each year in late July or early August. Cyndi reciprocates in the fall, when she and her family come to Nashville and stay with us the weekend of our annual "Leaf Party." Over the years, particularly before they moved home to Florida from Nashville, Jude and I spent a lot of time with Cyndi and Troy. Simply put, they're two of the best, most fun people we know and we think the world of them.

Now, about that trip. Obviously, Jude wasn't going to drive to Florida, so Friday morning, she loaded John Patrick in her Honda Pilot, along with her suitcase, diaper bag, purse, stroller, etc., and headed for the Nashville airport. She was delighted to spend a couple of hurried minutes at the airport with her father, "Jim Dad" White, whose flight from Jacksonville arrived just as Jude's was preparing to depart. Fortunately, her Southwest flight to Jacksonville was right on time and it wasn't full. As a result, she and John Patrick had a row of seats to themselves, which was convenient. She lifted up the armrest and laid him down on the seats beside her, shortly after takeoff. He slept almost the entire flight. Nothing to this travelling with a 4-month old thing, huh?

Cyndi met Jude and John Patrick at the airport in Jacksonville, after which they drove to the Baines' house in Neptune Beach, about a half mile from the ocean. Jude and John Patrick had a wonderful visit with the entire Baines family. John Patrick made his first visit to the beach on Saturday, where Jude dipped his feet in the Atlantic Ocean. If he's like his daddy, he will grow to love the beach and the ocean.

It's always great when Jude gets to spend time with Cyndi. In fact, when I spoke to her on the telephone Saturday and, really, throughout the weekend, I noticed a different tone or sound in her voice. She's just so relaxed and happy to be around Cyndi. I think it really recharges Jude's batteries, so to speak, when she's able to spend time with her best friend. It's a special thing to have a relationship like that with someone.

Sunday afternoon, the travel gods turned on Jude, as they are wont to do. Jude's flight on Southwest was delayed (imagine that) and, of course, there wasn't an empty seat on the airplane. John Patrick wasn't too happy and cried for a large part of the flight back to Nashville. Seated near the rear of the airplane, Jude stood up and walked with him some, which helped a little bit. There's only so much you can do, though, with a crying infant on an airplane.

After we put John Patrick to bed Sunday night, I asked Jude if she would make the trip again, knowing what she knows now. She paused, thought about it for a minute, then said, "probably not by myself."