Just in time for Halloween, the boogeyman paid a visit to the Kane residence leaving a trail of balled up Kleenex in his wake. Mr. Finn does not appear to have a cold just a leaky faucet. He does not like it at all when Mommy tries to intervene. It is no wonder why I buy $7 T-shirts from Target since more gets on my shoulder then on the tissue when trying to make a swipe at his nose. Gross. The best solution seems to be the Saline Nasal Spray. He puts up a heck of a fight, but can breathe easy in the end.
It wasn’t all bad today since Aunt Colleen made a cameo. Finn wuvs Aunt Colleen. She has been a fixture since the day he was born. She calls often just to ask, “How’s MY MAN?” Today Finn demonstrated for her how fast he can crawl and was rewarded with a little Green Mint Chip. Aunties rock!
Saturday mornings at the Kane household include coffee, The Post, and pancakes in that order. This morning Finn watched closely as his Dad prepared the Bisquick batter (the only way to go) and fired up the griddle. He explained in detail that the first pancake is always a disaster and gets thrown out. He showed him how to create perfect round flappers and achieve a nice golden brown hue. Finn was very taken up with the whole elaborate process.
As I tried to situate Finn in his highchair, he went stiff and arched. This rigor mortis manuver is only overcome by one thing. “John, show him the food! Show him the food!” I shouted. Instantly, his little frame relaxes and I can strap him in. He was treated to little warm pieces of flapjack with syrup. YUM! He loved it. Check out the pics.
Sorry that I missed a post yesterday. Finn & Mommy held our first playgroup yesterday. We had two other mommies and two baby girls over to play with our toys. Finn seemed to enjoy himself despite being outnumber 5 to 1 by chicks. Anna and Finn have been hanging out for months since they were itsy bitsy going for walks and falling asleep in order for their mommies to drink cup after cup of coffee at Brewed Awakening on Main Street. Kelly is just 10 days older than Finn. Her mom and I met at the YMCA when we both had big baby bellies. It was like working out in reverse – exercising to only get bigger. One day, I even got wedged between the exercise bikes as I was trying to climb on.
Fast forward to playgroup, they all poked at each others faces to get started then got down to business playing hard. Occasionally a round of tug of war broke out, but generally it was a peaceful demonstration. Anna even took a ride in Finn’s jumper seat, but found she really got the best ride when Finn crawled under the seat and she could kick him for leverage. Hilarious.
My mother has a penchant for nicknames. She had a slew of them for my brother – Mr. Man, Pettibones, Snodgrass, Guipetto, Doodleboy as well as variations thereof. For me, however, she had only one nickname, Corkbutts. There is no story behind it and simply no reason for it, other than complete torture. During the sign of peace at mass, she would turn to me and say, “Peace Corky.” I would turn red and lose my mind.
My son is no exception. His name, Finn Patrick Kane, was kept under wraps until his grand entrance. While my brother and his friends loved the name (undoubtedly since it sounds like a pub), people of our parent’s generation raised more than a few eyebrows. My own mother, the dedicated delivery room coach, was on the fence until she bestowed his first nickname, Finn Patty. As with all her nicknames, it is very fluid and morphs into others like Finn Patty Poo or or more recently just Pats. It is not lost on John and I that the nicknames are becoming more like her own name, Patsy.
Today was rough. Finn is working on an eye tooth and a second bottom tooth. He missed a nap and was generally disgruntled until Mommy had a idea. I dropped to the kitchen floor with a half gallon of Green Mint Chip. I figure the kid has to be genetically predisposed to Green Mint Chip since it is the preferred flavor of his mother, Nonnie and Grandfather Kane.
So all your moms out there here is something the doctor won’t tell you …. try a little ice cream and a cold spoon. You will be happy you did! Check out the video below. This is my first time posting video. I hope it works. Click and be patient – it is a big file so takes a bit to load.
Finn tired desperately to stay awake to watch Dancing with the Stars last night, but after a strenuous workout at the YMCA Shrimp & Kipper swim classs (aka Swimmies) he was just too worn out. He ate an enormous dinner and sucked back almost 16 oz of milk in a two hour time frame. As we sat in Daddy’s big chair, he whipped his head away from the bottle and passed out. John said, “Leah, you reached the ‘Do Not Fill Past This Point’ line on his neck.”
Finn rose early enough this morning to see his father off to the 6:11 train. When we went into the nursery to collect him, all John and I could see was mussed up hair and beady little eyes peaking over the bumper. He gave us a huge grin as we snuggled him. His little hand was balled up tight. When I pried it open, I discovered a lone mashed Fruit Puff stuck to his palm. He giggled. Daddy said, “Finn has contraban in his crib. We are going to have to toss the place. It’s a Shakedown, Finn.”
In honor of Columbus Day, Finn sampled his first loaf of Italian Bread last night. His name may be as Irish as Patty’s Pigs, but my little guy is still 1/4 Italiano. We tore out small pieces of the soft middle of a fresh loaf and placed them on his tray. First, he used the pointer of his left hand to trap a piece and slide it towards him. He manuvered it up the lip of tray only to have it fall into his lap.
The next attempt demonstrated true baby ingenuity. He trapped a piece with his left pointer, but this time brought the right pointer finger in on the assist. It was like he was using chubby chopsticks. He was so determined. It would have kept his attention for hours.
When he finally got a piece, he mashed it, smacked his lips and grinned. Now that’s Italian!
Finn has spent several weeks moving in reverse. He could see something he wanted, but he could only travel backwards or occasionally sideways like a crab. He would be supremely annoyed by a) not getting the thing he wanted and b) being trapped under a chair. This is perhaps a genetic trait, since my mom tells me that I was also backward crawler.
Last Friday, he finally figured out how to switch his gears into forward. The little geek in him just needed technology as the incentive. With Mommy’s cell phone or Nonno’s coveted remote placed infront of him, he lunged forward from the start position and his little padded dupey wiggled as he quickly scooted his legs forward and arms ahead. He snatched up the phone, returned to the seated start postion and beamed happily at his adoring crowd. Yeah Finn!
It was insane. Parked in the farmer’s field, there were hundreds of SUVs from which poured armies of orange clad kids attempting to hoist pumpkins 4 times their weight. Finn was needless to say overwhelmed or perhaps underwhelmed. You decide from his face in the above photo. Click on the photo to enlarge it.
The giant pumpkin in the photo is about 350 lbs. That is nothing. To be “competitive” a giant pumpkin must top out well over 1,000 lbs. At their peak point, they gain 30 lbs a day. Jenny Craig here we come – Yikes! http://www.vegetablegrowersnews.com/pages/arts.php?ns=239
All hope for fun at the patch is not lost. We met up with our buddies, Stacey & Hurlow, and their little guy, Jake. At 16 months, Jake was truly digging the patch. More fun for Finn next year.
Mr. Finn went visiting yesterday. He is a man of the people.
He was all duded up in a fuzzy wuzzy puppy suit. First, we went to see his Great Great Aunt Rena. She turns 91 this year and is sharper than me on my best day. She had her makeup on, her hair done and could not wait to get her hands on Finn. We had to hold him on her lap since he started to excute this fast lunging move in the last day or so. Nonno calls it his Python Strike.
She was delighted with him and kept saying, “Oh, little Butchie. Oh, little Butchie.” Butchie is my father’s Jessup nickname. Everyone in Jessup has a nickname. My grandfather was “Stiffy” and not for the reason most people would think. He got the nickname as a small boy for standing there like a Stiff while the kids were shooting marbles. My Uncle Joe was Cuckoo. Some other favorites of mine are Beansie, Scutz, and Zglick.
We moved Finn to the floor to play with his toys and he reached out with his left hand to grab his doodle bug. Immediatly, Aunt Rena said, “He is a lefty. I am a lefty. Don’t you discourage it.” I told you she was sharp.
Next we went to see Mr. & Mrs. Kelly. Mr. Kelly is a very nice man who has been like a mentor to my dad over the years. He first met my father when he was hitchhiking to Scranton Prep. Mr. Kelly picked him up and would give him rides regularly. The world is a very different place today. Finn turned on the charm once again as Mrs. Kelly brought him every kid-friendly object in her lovely home.
Finn’s last visit of the day was with my cousin Kathleen or Cakes as I called her as a kid. He gave her this sideways over-the-shoulder smirk and she laughed, “He looks just like JP. ” Poor John. I keep telling him “But, he has your eyebrows, Honey.”
This is a shout out to Jack Kaden Smart born on August 27, 2006 to our friends, Sarah and Archie Smart. Young Mr. Smart arrived exactly three months earlier than his November 27, 2006 due date. He is an amazing young man putting up a heck of a fight at St. Luke’s Roosevelt in NYC. We send our very best wishes to Jack and his Mom and Dad.
Many moons ago, Jack’s father and mother played gracious hosts to a couple of New Yorkers who after dealing with a cruel real estate broker were left homeless. All they got out of it was chocolate chip cookies. Sarah and Arch, thank you for your kindness. Your good karma will come back to you for little Jack – GO JACK GO!
You can track Jack’s journey at jack.sarahandarchie.com/ Jack’s blog inspired me to start blogging too. His Papa even gave me some help with managing my font issues. What a gem.
Raising A Little Kane 
