Photography with crazy people

Mary has been wanting to take a picture of Abby in her pumpkin hat next to a pumpkin. I married a crazy person so the whole process was very involved. Outfit changes, lighting equipment, backdrops.  When I proposed an alternative, "hey why don't we just sit her next to a pumpkin and take the picture", I was told that wouldn't work. When I asked why we needed a backdrop to take a picture in our living room I got a look that suggested my input was not wanted and maybe I should shut my stupid face.

The first try was an abject failure. I am a lousy assistant. I couldn't figure out how to sit her up, I couldn't figure out the backdrop. My heart wasn't in the project and when I suggested we put the hat on the pumpkin and photoshop the rest I was summarily fired.

The next night Mary recruited a more enthusiastic volunteer, my mom. Mom came over with some pillows, additional lights, and a can do attitude. She was there to figure out the backdrop, the Tank propping and the lighting. Operation Pumpkin Cheeks was a go.

I left Abby with these crazy people, took the dogs and retreated to the basement. When I came back up to check on things, I was greeted by this scene:

They wouldn't go into details but attempts to manage the baby, backdrop and pumpkin obviously failed miserably.

I never thought to wear the backdrop as a snuggie and become the studio. That's why I was fired, inability to think big. Also, my bad attitude and drinking on the job.

Pictures are taken, outfits are changed. When Mary wanted a slightly different angle and the backdrop wasn't in the shot, they figured it out on the fly. Brilliantly.

I cant wait to see what they come up with for potty training.

Abigails photo shoot

The pictures from the crazy person shoot came out well (see above). These are my favorites

Tank telling the story of her last arrest

Thriller, thriller night
You're fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller tonight

Stinkface does not approve of this operation

Formula Neck:The Stinky Plague

Every day millions of parents wake, pick up their babies and make a horrific discovery: Formula neck.

The American Pediatric Association describes formula neck as The area on an infants neck, usually the folds of the neck, where dribbled formula from feedings collects and sours. Formula neck is most likely to occur in babies with adorable cheeks, neck folds and on bath days. Formula neck is diagnosed by smelling the baby. The smell will likely resemble a pungent cheese kept in a drawer of dirty socks.

Formula neck is no laughing matter, it tears families apart. For new parents already dealing with smells and bodily functions that would terrify their pre-baby selves, formula neck is often a bridge too far. According to the Institute for Formula Neck Studies, 3 million babies suffered from formula neck in 2010. Studies show formula neck is the third leading cause of cursing in nurseries.

We've tried to prevent formula neck. Burp clothes. Bibs. A cover that would most accurately be described as a baby burqa. She inevitably thrashes her way out of the protection and into the formula neck danger zone.

More needs to be done to educate parents on this horrible issue. I knew not to shake my baby. I did not know about formula neck.

Pumpkin hat is cute enough offset formula neck

(Quiet)

Abigail is awake more and more during in the day, which is fun. We talk, walk around the house and act out scenes from our favorite movies. Abbys a big fan final scene in Robocop. The kid does a mean ED-209 impression. Just adorable.

In order to get enjoyable awake Abby and not Tank the war machine, we need to make sure she gets her sleep.

When she's getting sleepy I'll ever so carefully carry her to the nursery, adjust my hold for the easiest crib transition (one hand behind head, one hand on body) put her down then stand silently next to her crib and pray the sleep holds. Its tense. If I don't wait five minutes the floor will wake her up as I sneak away. I hate that damn floor. Hate.

The first week we had her home I snuck in roughly 50 times a night to confirm she was still breathing. If she was so quiet I couldn't hear breathing I'd hold a finger under her nose to confirm baby breath.  The finger under the nose trick was not ideal, it often woke her up. I couldn't find a wee mirror to hold under her nose so I improvised.

I assure you, Im just sleeping.

I'm getting better. I no longer wake her up to check if shes breathing. Progress!

Unfortunately, silence following an extended fit still freaks me out. Abigail raged at the world for the better part of Sunday morning. When she finally went down, she was out cold. It was unsettling. How could she go from Hulk angry to completely silent just like that? Shouldn't she be fussing a bit? Am I just being paranoid? Should I go check? I'll go check.

I snuck upstairs and was immediately betrayed by that damn floor. The tank was awake, the guns were firing. No one was safe. Stupid floor. Stupid stupid Dad.

Fake baby

Abigail is the perfect baby when people come over and visit. No crying. No yelling. No threats of violence or talk of baby prison. She sleeps or looks at whoevers holding her with big pretty eyes.

I feel their judgement as they sit there holding the kid." Oh, you're tired from this? This perfectly quiet baby thats not trouble at all? For shame sir."

Telling guests that your little girl is just faking is frowned upon in the etiquette books I've read, so I let it slide.Thats not to say she's a bad baby. Aside from her troubled past, shes mostly a joy.

But jeez, the way she flips a switch for guests. Amazing. I was trying, in vain, to calm her down this weekend when my Dad called to come visit. As soon as I said " Sure, come on over Dad" Abby brightened up and stopped fussing. The same thing happened when my cousins came over. Crying baby then BAM: Perfect angel baby.



Grandpa time. Will start screaming
in five minutes



With Cousin Sarah. Will yell
for an hour after they leave

Maybe tank is polite enough to not fire all guns in front of guests. Maybe we're just boring her. Shes either faking it for guests or we're really bad at this.



Tank Maintenance

Abigail had her two month checkup today (two months old!). I sat her down before we left and tried to explain what that meant.

Me: So uh, hey. We're going to the Doctor today and

Tank:Yeah yeah yeah, they're going to weigh me, listen to my breathing and heart and call it a day. Great.

Me: Wellllll.....that and theyregoingtogiveyousomeshotsandyoullbepissed. Hey lets go!

Tank: Say what now?

We talked about staying calm, her breathing exercises and proper language for a young lady in public. She promised to be on her best behavior.

When we got to the doctors office you could see she was preparing herself. Zoning out, finding her happy place.

Im not looking forward to this

Our nurse came in and looked her over. She's doing great. Tank now weighs 7 pounds 9 oz, a 9 oz gain in a week. Thats fantastic.

After the examination we had a break and Abby let her guard down. She relaxed, got a little cocky even.

Eh, no big deal

They come back for the shots. As the needle went into her leg she looked up at me. Her eyes said "Why are you allowing them to torture me father?". Her mouth said
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!".

I thought I had already seen her at her loudest and angriest. I had not. This baby goes to 11.

Workout with Abigail

There are at least three other babies on our block. Knowing this, Abigail has been adamant about getting in her workouts. She insists she needs to stay strong so the other babies on the block know whos in charge. Its one of the last effects of her extended stay in baby jail, a sad testament to her time locked up.

The doctors call her workout tummy time. They say its important because it gives her a chance to lift her head and develop neck muscles. Abigail calls it Tank Training. Five minutes of one handed push ups, five minutes of inverted crunches and five minutes of light sparring.

One of Marys coworkers gave us a great training ring as a baby gift. Its got a crinkly elephant ear to pull on, a hanging giraffe, lots of colors, a mirror. Its everything that Abby needs to stay strong and adorable.

Tank Needs Fuel

The thing that keeps most babies from leaving the NICU is eating. The ability to swallow and breathe at the same time is one of the last things to develop in-utero. The last week and a half of our stay in the NICU was waiting on Abigail to figure out eating.

Feedings and the updates that followed were the most exciting parts of our day.Mary would call and excitedly tell me Abby took two thirds of her bottle. I would call Mary and tell her that Abby took two thirds of her bottle and I only almost drowned her twice. The name Tank came from these feedings. Ate 40 mls? Goooo Tank go!

Thanks for not drowning me with formula

Our NICU time trained us to obsess over how much she's eating and how often she's doing it. We have a program on the Ipad and my phone that allows us to track and graph how much she's eating. It also track diapers, if you see me out and want to know our poopy diaper situation, well, the answers a click away!

We've been gradually upping her food based on how she's doing. 10mls here, 15 there. That system worked well until this week when Tank went into overdrive. A switch was flipped and now we have this insatiable baby. The Tank needs fuel to grow and develop and yell expletives at me. Its just ramped up so quick.  If she keeps this pace up we'll have to abandon bottles and make her a formula bong.

Go Tank Go!

Someone Please Calm This Baby

I have a list of things to do if Abby starts crying. This solves the problem 90% of the time.

Change Diaper. Feed. Rock. Burp. Use ridiculous baby voice. That's my entire list. Its...really short.

The list doesn't always solve the problem. I'll convince myself I've found the answer " Aha! She doesn't like this hat. This hat is the problem and now this baby will be happy forever".  She'll be happy for a few minutes, start yelling and I'll try something else. I wonder if doing the charleston calms furious infants?

When Abigail got out of the NICU, they sent use home with a video about crying. The video,Period of Purple Crying: A New Way to Understand Your Babies Crying, is garbage.

I watched Purple Crying during a night of extremely angry baby yelling. Watching a video about screaming babies while holding a screaming baby was stupid. Mary woke up to the echoes of wailing children.

 What did Purple Crying teach me? Some babies are jerks.There is nothing you can do. Thanks video!

I am angry

Tank goes to the doctor

We took tank in for a weight check on Friday. She resents the constant attention paid to her weight. I've told her its to make sure she's healthy, she doesn't buy it. "If society doesn't like the way I look, they can (expletive deleted)." She's a confidant girl.

Mention my weight again and I'll punch your face off your face

Tank is now up over seven pounds, which the doctors say is an important goal weight. Instead of having to wake her up at night we now get to wait until she tells us she's hungry. The change is good for everyone involved. We get a bit more sleep and its it safer for us waking a resting tank is dangerous.We have no doubt she'll wake us up with expletives and thrown beer bottles.

We again asked about Abigail's hernia (her outie). The nurse said it looked good, then pushed it in. It looked like a clowns nose after being punched.



Incidentally, that's almost exactly what Abby was saying to the nurse treating her belly button like a doorbell.

This trick delighted Mary and freaked me out. I've seen Mary do this twice since we got home. I assume she's at home right now, just pushing it in and watching it pop back out.

Win Win

The proposal: Mary feeds and takes care of Abby for an entire night, I take care of and feed Abby the next night.

The purpose: Mary gets one night of uniterrupted rest. I get a night of sports, stupid tv, videogames and beer drinking. Everyone wins! USA! USA!

The problem: I am old and lame.

Mary agreed to my terms and took Abigail for the night. I headed downstairs, turned on the Brewers-Cardinals game, grabbed a beer and settled in. This is going to be great.One night time machine.

Six hours and a quarter beer later I woke up on the couch.

I made it one half inning and three sips of beer into my solitary man night. Good lord what a failure, what a waste of a well negotiated deal.

Abby night was more fun than time machine night. We had an old man face contest at 3:00 am. I won. Facial hair advantage.

This fist says I win

Zero Day!

Its Abigails due date! Our seven week old was supposed to be born today! She's now 0 days old adjusted age, an exciting achievement.

Now doctors can judge me!

Being 0 is an exciting time in any young womans life. Breathing. Crying. Pooping. Existing. The thing is, being 0 is wasted on her. She doesn't appreciate the moment. When she's two or three weeks adjusted age she'll look back on the halcyon days of zero and realize she squandered her time. Soon she'll have to lift her head, smile, recognize us, start to crawl. The pressure will build  and she'll think, "Oh, to be zero again".

Tank is planning on celebrating by spitting up on dad, yelling at us as soon as we fall asleep and watching the Coen brothers A Serious Man.

I completely wasted my adjusted dad time. I'm now zero in adjusted dad age, meaning everything before this has been for naught. 3 am feedings? Didn't count. Rocking chair time? Pointless. Diaper changes? What a waste.

If I had discovered the adjusted dad loophole earlier I'd just be getting back from Mexico and you'd all be marveling at my awesome new tattoo.

Cant now. Responsibly adjusted.

Dogs! Babies! Rainbows!

We have two dogs: Molly, a black lab mix who's very sweet and kind of dumb, and Maddy, a pure bred cocker spaniel who is smart and evil.

Good dog, evil dog

We tried our best to prepare the dogs for Abigails arrival. Mary brought blankets and clothes home so they could get used to her smell. I started waking up three times a night and practiced pacing in the hallway.

They're both  interested in her, but in different ways. Molly is protective and sweet. When I feed Abby, Molly lays at my feet and watches. When Abby is screaming Molly gets nervous and looks at me as if I'm waterboarding her and enjoying it.

Maddy feigns interest so she can get close then steal pacifiers and socks. She'll sneak up, lick Abbies head, then steal whatever is available. The dog cons us into thinking she's full of love then robs us blind. I look forward to the day Abby can retaliate with ear pulls and eye gouges and figure four leg locks.

When Mary was pregnant I read that sounds Abby heard in utero wouldn't bother her once she was born. This has turned out to be true. Shes not bothered by the dogs incessant barking. She's not bothered by my yelling at the TV, my snoring or sleep cursing. Fun fact of the day.

Abby looks at her dumb friend

Burping techniques for difficult babies

Abigail is difficult to burp. When she does burp, its a manly, deep, sunday morning buffet burp. It's a burp that makes me proud to be her father.

 I use the golf tee technique, seen below. It allows for control of the head, maximum palm to the back and adequate protection against baby vomit.

golf tee technique

Mary likes to employ the burmese palm slap. Its a controversial move, but it works for her.

Burmese palm slap. For experts only.

Sleep is for closers

Its your turn to feed Abby.

How can I feed a baby out here, fishing? That doesn't seem sanitary. All I have is worms and granola bars.

Wake up. Its time to feed Abby. Joe. Wake. Up.


Ohhhh yeah. We have a baby. No longer a hospital baby. A asleep in the next room baby. Right? Isn't there a baby? Pretty sure theres a baby. Wake up.

Shes only been home a week and I'm really tired.

Mary is handling the lack of sleep better than I am. I'm surprised by this as I've always been the night owl and Mary has always needed 14 hours of sleep a night. I assume some mom gene activated in her after Abigail was born allowing her to go without sleep. That or there was some voodoo ceremony while I slept wherein my sleep needs were swapped with hers. Like the movie Vice Versa, except just sleep switching and no Judge Reinhold.

On Saturday I went to sleep at 8pm. I shuffled upstairs, told Mary I couldn't do it anymore and went to bed. She looked me in the eyes, saw a defeated, desperate man and let me sleep through the night. The baby broke me in less than a week, a fact I'm not proud of. 

I got her bottle ready and changed her. I'm on autopilot, the only thing in me that's awake at all is my irrational resentment of my now soundly sleeping wife.

We sit down for her bottle and I start to wake up. She's completely awake and alert, looking around and making noises.I assume she's threatening me in baby talk. "The minute you close you eyes imma cut your achilles tendon".

She latches onto the bottle and looks up at me as she eats.

I own you

This isn't so bad.

Baby voice, bath time

My baby voice may be the worst thing that's ever happened to America.

Its terrible. Just awful. Right now I think its the worst thing about me. If I could change anything about myself, I would eliminate that voice

I wouldn't lose weight. I wouldn't drink less. I wouldn't be taller, smarter, better looking or richer. I would kill the baby voice. Forever.

I cant stop it. I am helpless in the face of its infantile power.  There seems to be nothing I can do.  I swear I'm done then the next time I see her cute damn face I relapse.

Mary: Abby took 95 ml at her last feeding!

Me (picking up baby): Ohhhh thats my wittle tank! What a big girl you arrrre! Are you going to burp for daddy? Are you? Ohhhhhh!"

Me (walking away): Wait, what the....awww son of a....

We were going to give her a bath this afternoon. A baby talk mine field. To prepare I went into the bathroom, looked myself in the mirror and repeated "YOU WILL NOT BABY TALK. YOU ARE A MAN. A STRONG STRONG MAN." I did this for ten minutes and came out a strong strong man.

Then this happened.



THE FIRST THING I SAY IS IN BABY TALK! I am powerless before this cute baby.

Gilde Home for Criminally Insane Babies

Abigail has spent 80% of her life institutionalized. She's adjusting well to life on the outside, but she's still at little rough around the edges. She refers to being put in her crib as "being thrown in the hole" and her time in her bouncy chair as "the yard". On a more positive note:  we've only found three shivs on her this week and she no longer talks about trading me for three packs of smokes.

Looking for shivs

With her sketchy past, Mary and I have to protect ourselves at all times. When we feel she's about to lose it, we put her in restraints. Its safer for everyone.

We've tried a variety of devices, some better than others.

In most of the restraints we've found, she can get her hands free. This is a problem with a violent baby.



Free hands=dangerous baby




















Luckily we found a company online that specializes in baby straight jackets. Seems to be working well so far.



Great gifts and disappointed babies

Abigails great Jan and uncle Greg made her this amazing Seussian birdhouse for her room. They matched everything with the colors from her room. She loves it!

Abigail reacts to the news that I am in fact her dad

Dr. Visit

Abigail had her first Pediatric check up today. Everything went great, she's a perfectly healthy six week old and a superhuman -1 week old (adjusted age)

Tank now weighs 6 pounds 10 ounces, a healthy gain since she got out of the hospital on Monday.

When carrying her back from getting weighed, one of the nurses said "Oh wow, she looks so tiny with her big ole daddy!"

Tank took offense to this. She started to say something to the lady, I pulled her into another room to talk sticks and stones, turning the other cheek and not causing scenes in public places. Its all about teaching moments folks.

Insult me again and I'll cut ya

Hospital theft and Target runs

Abigail was in neonatal intensive care for five weeks. That is a lot of care. Intensive care even.  I'm looking forward to seeing that bill.It's not that I'm worried for our financial well being.  I have amazing insurance, it wont cost us much out of pocket. My hope is that I can use the ridiculous amount the hospital charges as leverage against Abby.

"Oh, you don't want to sleep? You want to keep crying? You know, that's not really how I expect a $200,000 baby to act. Harrumph harrumph"

When we finally checked out, we grabbed anything that wasn't glued down. Bottles. Diapers. Pacifiers.  If it wasn't for the nurse right by the door I'd have a nice new mini fridge in the basement.

Our supply of ill-gotten bottle nipples ran out last night. This was a problem. We have other nipples at the house, just not any Abby liked. She just couldn't get anything out of them. As a result, I made my first emergency target run.

The bottle aisle at Target is intimidating. I have no idea what any of this stuff means. Whats the difference between three drops on the label vs two drops? Why does this one have two drops and a baby thumbs up? Vacu-speed bottles? Bottle bags? Aerodynamic speed bottles with laser sights? This is all overwhelming.

Apparently I wasn't the only one in this predicament. It was 8:45 pm and there were two other men wearing the same look of confused terror. Picking up boxes, reading the side, putting the boxes down then sighing heavily or weeping softly. At one point a mom zipped in between us, looked at us with pity and got the hell out.

I ended up buying one of everything (only a slight exaggeration) and heading home. We found a combination that worked and the night was saved.

This is going to be hard.

This giant bottle is working. Huzzah!

Hello Family!

Hey everyone, welcome to the all things Abigail blog. You may occasionally have to suffer through Mary and Joe content, but it wont be often. We know what the people want: Abigail Abigail Abigail!

Sup

Fear

When I look at Abby, sometimes I see the spitting image of my brother as a kid. Sometimes I think she looks a lot like me. I mean, she's really damn cute but I hope this corrects itself sooner rather than later.


Baby Abigail

Eric and I when kids

THE FUTURE?

FEAR

Firsts

It was a beautiful fall evening in Des Moines so Mary and I took Abby for her first walk. She enjoyed her first extended time outside.

First walk

She didn't help on the walk at all, but was tuckered out by the end. Damn freeloading liberal baby.

We also gave Abigail her first bath. I was going to record Mary giving the bath, unfortunately Abby was screaming bloody murder and we needed to move things along. I feared the neighbors would think we were running a baby fight club and call the cops.

They say that we should use Abigail's adjusted birth date for tracking developmental goals. Adjusted birth date is her original due date, which means that Abby is negative one week old. She can really scream for a negative one week old. STOP YELLING THEORETICAL BABY!

Lets play catch up: Oh Crap, here comes Abigail

October 13th. That's the day for Baby Gilde. Vacation and sick time is planned out. Birth plan is being formulated.  Joes pre-baby spirit quest is just around the corner.

Welp, maybe not.

What was supposed to be a regular check up ended with Mary in the hospital. Preeclampsia. Mary is sick and getting sicker. The only cure is giving birth. This is....terrifying.

We're not ready. The house isn't ready. The bags are not packed. The spirit quest has not been taken.

And the baby doesnt have a name.

We had talked about talking about picking out a name. We had several names we both kind of sort of liked. In the end, we wrote out names on the white board in the hospital room. It felt like I was reporting precinct vote totals. Or playing hangman. Or writing Gilde Rules on the blackboard.

Abigail Eloise Gilde. We both like it.

Three days in the hospital and Mary gives birth to Abby. She wanted drugs, the anaesthesiologist didn't show in time. If she ever runs into him in public, she'll run into him with her car.

Abby is here!

Cord cutting. Think I botched it and she'll have an outie. Sorry Abs!

She's 8 weeks early, weighs 4.3 pounds and healthy. She'll end up spending 5 weeks in the hospital. Looking back its a blur of progress, setbacks, crappy hospital beds and even crappier food.

Abigail at one day old, being helped by robots

Abby gets ready to go home.
Apologies for my baby voice, its truly terrible. I pledge to work on it.







Our nurses and doctors were fantastic. Our friends and family are amazing.

Home!

We are so happy to have her home.