Love and Diapers

When Mary was pregnant I had a reoccurring dream in which Abigail was born and I felt nothing. I would be in the hospital room or nursery, holding the baby and feel nothing. I'd  hold the baby and spit out platitudes because I'm supposed to love the baby but don't.

The dream always bothered me. I don't know this kid. What if she's a jerk? She's changing my whole life. Who's to say I'll like her?

I was lucky to be able to spend so much time with Abigail the last couple months. I read somewhere that if you want to feel the way you're meant to feel about the new baby you need to do the grunt work. Its only in caring for the a thing that you become attached to it.

Grunt work I've done. Gross gross grunt work. Taking care of a baby is disgusting. Pee. Poop. Vomit. Drool. Snot.  Crying. Screaming. Its like taking care of the worlds cutest alcoholic.

I have a game I play with Abby where I lift her above my head horizontally and walk her around the room. Space Baby. Space Baby is great because it always calms her down. She can be upset and if I take her to space she stops crying. Space baby don't cry. Being a brilliant man, I played this game with Abby right after a feeding. She pointed out the error of my ways by vomiting on my head from space.

I know I've seen something similar happen in horrible romantic comedies, but I couldn't remember how they handled it. It was probably charming and adorable. Dry heaving and cursing are not adorable.

Also, poop. Abigail has started waiting until her diaper is being changed to poop. This is problematic. I'll be changing her, we'll be in the middle of a conversation and she'll just start going. She'd be a great conversationalist if she didn't start pooping in the middle of a thought. When this happens conversation stops and we try not to look each other in the eyes. Its awkward.

I don't know how people watch kids they are not related to. Love is required for me to deal with other another humans poo.

Look out below

Megamind

I suspect that part of Marys plan to become our daughters favorite parent involves making me take Abigail to her vaccinations. It was a good plan, a plan that came to an end this morning. She's off work and I'm under the weather, so bad cop Mary time. She was the one getting  the “what the hell are letting them do to me ” look! See Abby, this isn't my idea!

When Abigail goes in for her vaccinations they weigh and measure her and give us a chart tracking her growth. She's been lower than the third percentile for weight at our visits.I tell her this is normal( you were early, those other babies are not better than you) but I can tell it bothers her.

Thankfully, Tank continues to roll along. She now weighs 11 pounds 14 ounces, a healthy gain over the last month.This puts in the 6th percentile for weight. She says she has the other babies in her sights. I approve of her goals, not her rhetoric.

This visit they measured her head size. Her head is in the 50th percentile. Her weight is in the 6th, her head size in the 50th.  I find this amazing.  If this continues her head will weigh 47 pounds by her fifteenth birthday.

Mary doesn't ask the same questions I do. She asks the obvious questions. When do we switch to solid foods; whats going on with that belly button; is it normal that my daughter thinks my husband is the bees knees? All fine questions, but different than what I tend to ask. After our first vaccination I asked if bigger, fatter babies would protest against Abby because she was in the 1 percentile for size. The nurse just looked at me, wrote something on the chart and walked out of the room. I'm pretty sure she wrote "GREAT DAD!".

My first thought when I heard about her  head size was "great, our baby has a big brain!" The second thought was" When does her body catch up, because this sounds like the back story for a super villain. Is there anything I can do to prevent a life of super crime?" I’ll ask the nurse next month.

IM A GREAT DAD!

I AM FULL OF BRAINS!

Parents First Christmas

We keep getting asked what we're doing for Abigails first Christmas.What special plans do we have, what grand happenings are going on to celebrate the first Christmas with our daughter.

I find this all kind of silly. All of this stuff is for us, Abby doesn't care. She wants a clean diaper, a full bottle, someone she can verbally abuse, someone to hold her.

The problem is that while I'm aware that its all about the new parents, the fact that I don't really care about it makes me feel like a lousy dad. Being a new parent is the only time I've been obviously, clumsily marketed to, said no and felt guilty afterwards. I'm a fat, white male. Seventy percent of all advertisements are directed at me and my fat white brothers in couch.  I thought I had built up a solid defense but that flicker of worry( am I being a lousy, inattentive father) eats at me.

This will be the last calm Christmas. Next year she'll be thrilled with the paper, the boxes, the lights and the ornaments. Then she'll start talking santa and gifts and we're off to modern christmas.

Lets just make a strong batch of eggnog and enjoy the peace. Merry Christmas!

At least put me in a cute outfit

Dogs, Free to Bad Home

One thing is clear after  my stay at home: Our dogs are horrible. They are monsters who hide their evil  with cuddling, big brown eyes and sweetness. That doesn't describe evil dogs you say? Well Sir or Madame, shut up.

They're villains, and like any great villain they are smart. They dont launch their evil schemes until the time is right.

Last week I made Abigail a bottle while she angrily squirmed in my arms. Holding onto of 11 pounds of hungry anger while trying to measure, pour and shake in the other arm is difficult for me as I am the clumsiest man in the world.

I finish up and took Abby into the living room for her lunch. I didn't think at all about the full can of formula sitting on the edge of the counter. I didn't think of our lab Molly, watching this all go down out of the corner of her eye.  My only concern was the hungry scream machine in my arms.

Abby is halfway through her bottle when I hear the dogs batting something around in the kitchen. All the cupboards and drawers are closed so I think nothing of it. Its not long before I realize the magnitude of my mistake. Molly runs into the living room with the can of formula, shaking it all over the house. She proceeds to run around the entire living room, coating everything in formula.

Not good. Abby, majorly pissed that she got kicked out of the restaurant halfway through dinner, is screaming at the top of her lungs. Both dogs are running around licking up formula.For some reason Molly is afraid of brooms, so when I start to sweep the mess up Molly starts barking uncontrollably. This does not help the pissed off Abby calm down.

I stop to assess the situation. Abby is purple with anger. Molly is trying to scare all the brooms on our block out of town. Madison is running around excitedly licking everything, like Homer in the land of chocolate.



In the face of this catastrophe, I did what was right. The only sane thing really. I put the worlds angriest three month old in her crib, ran downstairs, poured myself three fingers of Jameson (at 2:15 in the afternoon) and went to work.

Powdered formula is nasty, sticky stuff and it was everywhere, in every crevice, corner and nook in the front room and kitchen. I swept and vacuumed and swept some more. This left a big sticky mess everywhere so I scrubbed the floors. Did I mention that Molly hates brooms and mops? Yeah, she was barking the whole time. 

Cleanup takes 45 minutes, dogs barking and baby crying the entire time.  Thanks to the Jameson, I was able to face the rest of the afternoon with a strained smile.

How are stay at home moms not all alcoholics?

Control your dogs, jerk

Doctor Visit, Doctor Vacation

Its terrible, but I've grown to love Abigails doctors visits. For one thing, its nice to get good news about her health. Better? It wears her out. The poking and prodding just takes it out of her and I get a docile, sleepy baby when I get home.

I'm not a monster, I don't enjoy her being upset or scared. The visits and tests are for her own good, and as a result I get a perfect baby. Its not that I skip when leaving the house for a doctors appointment. That would just be rubbing Abbys face in it. That would not do.

I skip on the way back in the house. She's already passed out so I know she wont be offended.

We had her first cardiologist appointment last Monday.  The appointment consisted of several tests that both seriously pissed Abby off and wore her out. They took her in for a chest x-ray and her cursing filled the office. It was impressive, I wouldn't be surprised if it didn't drive a couple terrified parents and their children from the building.

After the screaming x-ray they gave her an ECG. This involved hooking Abigail up like she needed a jump start. It would have been amusing if I hadn't been the one to hold her down during the test. Mock crucifying your three month old girl  is not a fun Monday morning activity. 

When the cardiologist  came in to discuss the test results with us, I noticed that he was directing all responses and questions to Mary. I'm guessing its because she was on her way to work, put together and looking like a consummate professional and I, halfway through my paternity leave, look like an unemployed garage attendant.
 
It turns out Abigail has a heart murmur. She has a hole in heart that should have closed and hasn't. Given the size of the hole, theres a 50 percent chance it will close on its own  in the next 18 months. The murmur wont affect her at this age,  the only danger is if they hadn't found it. If the hole doesn't close on its own they'll go through a vein in her leg and shut it. Not ideal, not as scary as it originally sounded.

After the cardiologist I stopped in at the office to pick up some work and let Abby meet the people I work with. It was a nice visit, really nice to see everyone and happy they got to meet Ms. Stinkface. As nice as it was, it was a waste of the doctor vacation. She slept the entire visit, then woke up as soon as I got home. Misstep!

I HATE THE DOCTOR YOU MONSTER

Smiley

I am in love with this kids smile. Its a simple thing but it makes my day.  I'm addicted and its becoming a problem.

 I'll do anything to make her smile. My stupid baby voice will make her smile, so hey, more stupid baby voice. Peek a boo will make her smile so lets play peek a boo for two hours. She thinks sticking my tongue out is the best thing ever. It makes her smile and laugh, and she'll try and stick her tongue out back at me. Mary is appalled by this game, like doing this is going to cause us to have the rudest, tongue sticking outest baby in town. Abigail just realized she had a tongue four days ago so I'm hoping the mimicking doesn't stick.


If she starts sticking her tongue out at people I'm in a lot of trouble.