Archives for posts with tag: Parenting

A few days ago, Gavin and I started swim lessons…and we were thrown into a pool full of sharks new moms. No jokes, barely a few smiles, and minimal conversation chilled the air. I felt like the proverbial fish out of water. I envisioned we’d all buddy up over latte half-cafs and pedicures and discuss our new post-partum bodies or something. Nope. Not happening. I barely got a ‘Hi’ from any of them.

After consorting with the over-emotional side of humankind (and getting the cold shoulder), I decided to check out the more easy-going side.  I signed up on Meetup to meet a few SAHDs (Stay-At-Home Dads) in my neighborhood.

I must say that I was pretty excited to get Worm around some testosterone.  There’s just a little bit more reality and a little less drama when it comes to hanging out with most men.  Also, I figured that the meet and greet would be good for Worm to balance out his aqua acrobatics with some terra firma tumbling.

The meetup was at the local playground.  We get there early and meet the dad running the whole show.  His boy was about the same age as Gavin.  Since his son was walking, I thought it would be great for Worm to take some pointers from a peer.  But, Worm wasn’t impressed.  He repeated the same behavior as he did in the pool, clinging to me like I was the best daddy on earth…or the last.

I spent 45 minutes trying to get him to relax enough to put his feet on the ground.  I brought his toys out and ran them through the sand, tossed the ball around, and played with the fixtures in the playground.  (In case you were wondering, I had a blast!)  Worm just watched with apprehension and partial disgust.

Then I had an idea.  I pried Worm’s hands from my body, plopped him in the swing, and ran away as fast as I could.  When I returned 3 hours later, he was still in the swing.  So, I snapped off a picture.

Swinging in the Park

Just kidding.  Here’s how the stats played out:

  • 45 minutes of staring at the playground
  • 5 minutes in the swing
  • 20 minutes of whining
  • 10 minutes with xylophone toy
  • 15 minutes of whining
  • 15 minutes of sandbox time

Then it was time to leave.

Overall, I would say that the park visit was a success.  I got a taste of what the other new dads were up to.  Worm got a taste of playground sand and recycled rubber tires.  It was a nice change from last week’s swimming lesson.

The only thing missing was beer.  That’s why the next meetup is at a kid-friendly pub.  (Come on, new dads + kids + beer = gigaloads of fun!  What could possibly go wrong?)

SAHM‘s eat your heart out.

Dad, wasn't it F = (M x a) where a = omega squared divided by r?

In the spirit of Dr. Seuss, here’s a little poem for Gavin on his birthday!

You’re one today!

What does that mean?

Plenty of milk

And plenty of greenvegetables!

We’ll surprise you today

With your favorite things,

Like ‘Yo Gabba Gabba

And some (obnoxiously loud) toy that sings.

You survived an entire

Year with your dad!  (You can thank me later.)

With no missing limbs,

Aren’t you glad?

Dad’s much better at

Decoding your shout,

Which cry says ‘change me

And the cry of ‘cut it out (you idiot.  Stop playing with my emotions!)’

You’ve grown so much

In body and mind!  (You’re a lean machine.  You can thank me later for that too.)

I can see clearly you

Have your mother’s behind.

What will two bring?

I think it will be

More bruises and bumps

For both you and me.

Let’s celebrate today

And us parents will hail

That we haven’t screwed up Worm

Enough to land us in jail!

Dad, You'd Better Turn it Up a Notch. It's The Only First Birthday I'll Ever Have!

We’re rolling into one full year with the Worm.  Just like the gnathostomiasis, he’s got teeth.  Unlike the gnathostomiasis though, our Worm doesn’t crawl into humans and devour them from the inside.  (Which could be a useful skill to have in your back pocket.)

We are a little concerned about the fact that he hasn’t cut more than 2 teeth yet.  We haven’t seen more than two teeth in his head for 6 months.  If the folklore is true about connection between teeth and wisdom, it makes sense why Worm kisses the sliding glass door.

The general rule is that babies cut the middle bottom teeth first.  This gives them the ability to bite the fleshy part of your fingertip at feeding time and cause pain.  This happens around 6 months of age.  After that, the baby will cut approximately one tooth a month.  (So, if do the math correctly, our baby should have 6 teeth, which is 4 more than what he’s got.)  As the rule goes, the next two that come through are the two top front teeth.  At this point, baby’s shredding power increases exponentially.  This quickly becomes a hazard if one is not paying attention while feeding a voracious eater.  If you look around, you will find a small percentage of parents waving a hand with only 3 or 4 fingers.  (Learn from their mistakes.  Don’t let this happen to you!)

Even though Gavin’s teeth are way behind his appetite for solid foods, we let him to try to eat things like bread, waffles, apples, papaya, bananas, dog toys, plastic bottles, Jenga blocks, etc.  He’s so curious about everything that we eat.  (Even more interesting is that for a baby who hasn’t seen much cuisine in his short life, he can differentiate food items from non-food items.  It could be a side effect of watching Food Network all day long, but I’m not certain.)  We’re willing to try to feed him almost anything.  Almost.

I think he’s still a few years away from the chomping capability of Cap’n Crunch cereal like his old dad.  But, we’ll get there.  (I warm up with Peanut Butter Crunch and exercise my incisors on Crunch Berries.) He can ruminate on the softer foods until he’s built up his jaw, teeth and gums for this pinnacle of crunchiness.  When the time comes, it will be a crowning (get it?) achievement his old man will be proud of!

A Gummy Grin!

  • Drooling
  • Crankiness and unusual irritability
  • Biting
  • Lack of appetite (because the teeth hurt!)
  • Problems sleeping
In my house, we find the new tooth first and say “Oh, that’s why little so-and-so was acting funny last week.”  It seems we’re always one step behind the baby…figuratively and literally.

It’s time to teach the Worm to swim.  He’s almost a year old now and better parents will tell us we should have started months ago.  Also, it’s time for him to see and play with kids that aren’t over 30 years old and graying.  (I’m talking about my wife here, not me.)  Worm needs to get out and interact like the social butterfly I want him to be.  And what better way to get Daddy & the Worm socialized than at a bikini filled hot tub swimming pool?

Worm’s naturally drawn to water.  Every time he hears the bathtub filling up, he crawls his way over in anticipation that it’s for him.  Once in the tub, he splashes around and giggles like there’s no tomorrow.  He loves water so much, he has no problem wedging himself into the dog dish with the same gusto.  A swimming pool is just like a really large bathtub.  Right?  Well, that’s not quite the way Worm saw it.

We show up to the swimming pool in the afternoon.  Worm slipped into his asset accentuating Speedo-esque baby swim diaper.  (First, I was perplexed about how this diaper was going to absorb pee and poop while underwater.  Then, I came to the realization halfway through the class that the baby swim diaper only keeps chunky stuff from floating to the top of the pool.  Everything else sort of just um…magically vanishes into the water…yeah, vanishes.)

Man, does he look poised and ready to go!

Dad! Look at My Swim Muscles!

When Worm, Grandma and I show up to class a little early, Worm peers around flexing his muscles and ‘scoping the hotties.  (He’s a chip off the old block!)  We’re in luck because we find out there are 4 girls in our swim class and no dudes!  Picking up babes today is going to be like catching fish in a bucket.  So Worm and I primp ourselves to showcase the finest of the male species for the next 30 minutes for these lucky girls.

The Pre-Pool Jitters.

Though, as soon as we hit the water we lost the battle of the sexes.  For almost the entire half-hour class, Worm clung to me like a leech in a swamp.

Did we participate in the leg kicks exercise?  Nope.

Did we participate in back floating exercise?  Nope.

Did we participate in putting floating toys in the bucket?  Maybe once.

Did we participate in screaming, crying, and clinging?  A resounding yes!

Worm Taking His Mind Off of the Water For A Split Second.

Most children are curious about other children.  Worm didn’t look at any of them after he got into the pool.  He was too busy signaling for Grandma to dive in and rescue him from this water torture device.  Of course, I couldn’t make eye contact with any of the parents either.  Embarrassed, my excuse was that I was babysitting my friend’s kid for the afternoon.  “See?  He doesn’t really look like me.  Any resemblance is probably because we spend a lot of time together.  It’s purely coincidental.” I said.

You know how you get that strange feeling like every mom is watching you and dissecting your every move, saying to themselves “I would never do that with my child!” or “That baby’s a mess from poor parenting!”  That’s how I felt today during the swim lesson.  I was wishing I could just swim over to my gymbag and pour a double shot of Anniversario to take the edge off but I think the Boys and Girls club frowns upon such behavior. If there were any other guys there besides us, I’d get someone to ease our pain and break the ice with a story or joke.  There was none of that from the moms in the pool.  They just half-smiled at us fellas and splashed us with “I bet they’re both peeing in the pool” glances.

A couple of times during the swim class, the instructor tried to pry Worm away from me in hopes that he would forget his fears and paddle about in reckless abandon.  Not a chance.  His screaming only increased a few decibels and in defeat, the instructor handed him back to me.

Should I Make a Break For It While Worm's Not Looking?

So, my kiddo spent the better part of our swim lesson grappling with dad’s slippery body.  A couple of times I thought he would choke me out.  But, we both survived.  Even though a swim lesson wasn’t learned, a life lesson was.

Here are our takeaways from our first swim lesson:

1.  If the pool water is green, don’t dip your head under.  (For Dad)

2.  If you want to make a good impression on the ladies and you don’t know how to swim, wear a fake cast for an excuse to stay out of the pool.  (For Worm)

3.  Moms can be a scary bunch to deal with if you’re a SAHD, so drink heavily before any activity where you’re well outnumbered by them.  (For Dad)

4.  Have excuses ready for when your baby is making a scene.  “Oh, this isn’t my child.” works best.  Other standards are:  “It’s way past his nap time.”  “He’s going through a phase right now.”  “You didn’t see it, but your child slapped mine first.”  “He forgot to take his Xanax and missed his therapy session so his emotions are out of whack right now.”  (For Dad)

Ok, I think We've Tortured You Enough. Let's Go Home.

I guess I should have been better prepared.  But as a stubborn Dad teaching a stubborn Worm…He’s going to learn to swim whether he likes it or not.  We’ll be back on Saturday with a vengeance.

Gavin = 10; Dad = 5

By the way, if you’re in the San Diego area and you are looking for swimming classes to enroll your baby, check out Noonan Family Swim School.  They have locations all over San Diego.

I finally got out of the house!  By myself!  As I said before, it’s been a couple of years since I’ve been able to really mountain bike.  It used to be my favorite way to start the weekend.  For the first time in a long time, the opportunity presented itself.  My lovely wife told me that I could break away this Saturday morning to go ride as long as I was back before breakfast.  She didn’t have to tell me twice.

The View of the Grasslands From Above

I set my alarm for 5:30am and was out the door by 6.  The sun hadn’t even come up by the time I hit the trailhead and I was the second one there.  (The first guy looked like he slept in his car.  Awesome idea!)

There’s something about being on the MTB trails in the early morning…like the lack of people!  The air is fresh, crisp, and unadulterated.  If you’re lucky, you can see rabbits, coyotes, and even deer (like I did today!)  Although if luck broke my arm or leg, I could come across some wildlife I’d rather not see.  Falling lame in the middle of this terrain could quickly turn you from biker to breakfast for SoCal‘s largest land predator, the mountain lion.  I crossed my fingers that I was too skinny for any cougar to waste his time on.  I definitely wasn’t too fast for one.

Ahh, No One Around For Miles

As I rode today, I reminisced about my past.  Years ago, well before baby and wife, I would ride for hours on the weekends and do nothing more important than find my next meal.  Those were the days before I met responsibility.  Obviously, things have changed.   Responsibility and I have every meal together now.  Like the skin on my body, we know each other well.  But, this morning I left the house before responsibility arose.  My reward?  I got to reenact a portion of my previous life for a brief couple of hours.

2 hours alone on my bike was just the ticket for me to recharge and put things in perspective again.  I cleared my head as quickly as the trees blurred past.  Afterwards, I felt like myself again.  But, not like my old self sans responsibility.  Like my new self, complete with obligation and duty.  Because in truth, my previous life that I experienced this morning was a likeness in emotion only.  Nothing more.  I can’t turn back time, nor do I want to.  I love my wife.  I love my son.  I love my commitments and occupation as a husband and a new father.  And I couldn’t wait to get back to them and share a nice family breakfast together.

If you are in the San Diego area and you enjoy nature, the Mission Trails Regional Park is a nice place to visit.  There are tons of hiking, biking and horseback riding to do.  The visitor center is kid friendly and if you’re teaching your little one to mountain bike, the Grasslands part of the park is a great place to start!

For more information about the park, see the link below.

Mission Trails Regional Park

For more information about mountain biking in San Diego:

Mountain Bike Bill’s Website

San Diego Mountain Biking Association

He hates it.

We are the type of people who don’t want to buy our kid the best gear only to find out later he isn’t really interested.  (Yep, we’re cheap bastards.)  When it comes to helmets, I just don’t see how a child, especially a baby, is going to know the difference between an $80 helmet and half a coconut shell.  Since we want Worm to spend more time wearing his helmet than eating it, we opted for a non-food based one (although I’m sure the manufacturer used corn in there somewhere).  Steph found a shiny blue Winnie the Pooh helmet on the clearance shelf at Target.  It didn’t look like it had been used and returned.  It looked new!  Being that the only other option in that Target was a pink Barbie helmet (which obviously would have emasculated our boy), we snatched up the blue Pooh one.  (We didn’t snatch it as in we stole it.  We purchased it…we’re not that cheap!)

The only other thing to do before we went up to the counter was try it on.  We put the helmet on Worm to see if it would fit his noggin.  And this was his response:

Dad, This Helmet Doesn't Match My Shirt!

I think if he would have ripped the helmet off any faster, he would have lost some hair with it.  Since there’s no arguing with the baby, we did the adult thing.  We bought the helmet and went home to torture him with it until he liked it.

On a side note, you should check the link below to find out what the laws are for your child when it comes to helmet wearing in your city or state.  There is no federal law requiring riders to wear helmets, but some cities require helmets for every age.

I think Worm wore this kung fu outfit once before he outgrew it.  I think he looks wise beyond his years with that receding hairline.  Don’t you?

I Kick My Weekend Off With a Fresh Diaper...and You?