J. Michael Andresen

The American Academy of Pediatrics recommends no television at all for children under the age of two. Instead of the boob tube, they recommend talking, singing, or reading to the baby. I like reading, and I thought it would be fun to read books to Max while he is awake but not really alert enough for playing. (Mostly this is the time immediately after feeding and diaper change before he drifts back off into sleep.) Because Max is about as young as you can get, I decided to start with humanity's youngest written story. I ordered my copy of the Epic of Gilgamesh when Katie was just into the third trimester. Gilgamesh was written around 1700 BC, well before Homer or even the Bible. A new English version of the story came out recently, and I thought it would be a great thing to start off young Max's literary education. Epic poetry seemed especially appropriate, since they were meant to be read (or recited) aloud. It was one of our first few days home from the hospital, when I h

Katie went into labor with Maxwell three weeks ago today. On that day, a friend of mine who shall remain unnamed (but not unlinked ) posted an odd yet compelling video on his blog. I viewed it early on that fateful Wednesday, and all morning the catchy refrain rattled my brain. In the afternoon, I decided to download the song from iTunes. I was listening to the song when Katie wrote me an IM saying that we needed to go to the hospital. In the sleepless delirium that started that night, the song kept running through my head along with the surreal Yellow-Submarine-like animations in the video. That continued the next night, and the next night, and, well, you get the picture. From now on, when I imagine my wife's labor and my son's birth, the soundtrack will be Lollipop by Mika.

I have been on-again, off-again over my life in my views on fatherhood. On the one hand, I thought I would be a good father, as I feel I am loving and very patient. On the other hand, I couldn't imagine raising someone who was as horrible as I was growing up. (Hat tip and belated apology to my parents.) And what if I did everything wrong, despite my best intentions? In the end, "the one hand" beat out "the other hand" and Katie and I brought baby Maxwell into the world. (Max is sleeping sweetly on my lap as I type.) Even when I was feeling rosiest about fatherhood, though, it was toddlerhood and language acquisition that I most looked forward to. (I love the adorable things toddlers say as they are learning how to talk as they figure out how the world works.) The newborn period, in fact, seemed like something that I would struggle through, putting as happy a face as possible on my discomfiture. As I understood it, new parents get no sleep and are rewarded with

Today is April 19, the due date for my baby boy. He surprised us by coming a little early! Introducing . . . Maxwell Thomas! Born on April 9, 2009 at 6:44 p.m. 8 pounds, 5 ounces, 21 inches long Maxwell has brown hair (with a touch of red) and dark blue eyes. He has ten little toes: And at least five little fingers: Early nicknames include Baby (prosaic), Max (obvious), Dashiell (runner-up for first name), and One-eyed Willie. Mother and baby (and father) are healthy and inordinately happy. We think he is absolutely adorable, and we can't wait to introduce him to everyone in person!

Katie and I went to see Noble Dreams and Simple Pleasures at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts this past weekend. We went with Laura, Katie's sister. It is an exhibit of art (mostly paintings) by American artists that are on loan from private collections in Minnesota. Unsurprisingly, this includes a great deal of art from Minnesota artists or of Minnesota subjects. My favorite painting in the exhibit was by Seth Eastman , who painted the lovely picture of Saint Anthony Falls above. These falls are why Minneapolis was founded and became a flour milling powerhouse in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The falls are immediately northeast of downtown Minneapolis. Here's an image of the falls from Google Maps:

I posted a contest yesterday, which Craig won ( yet again ). I will send him some more classical music CDs. (He informed me earlier this week that the box with his previous prize arrived in the mail, but with no contents. He got an empty box covered with red stamps proclaiming "Damaged by the Post Office." Sad.) My odd behavior in the video was prompted by a conversation on Sunday morning with my darling wife. I came downstairs in the morning to find her sitting on a chair in the living room drinking some tea. I sat down on the couch. Katie: Good morning! Me: Good morning! Katie: You are very large! Me (forlornly rubbing my belly): I guess I did have a large dinner last night. Katie: No, silly! I mean you take up a lot of space in the room. Me: Huh? Katie: Before you were here there was just empty space. Now that you're here there's much less. This scintillating morning conversation led me to wonder how many cubic feet of living room space I actually take up. I'm