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I’ll Knock This Baby Out of the Park! (Don’t worry, baby != baby girl)

August 28, 2012 //
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(The title is a bad nerd joke.  Sorry, I try to control it with medication.)

Should I have my anxiety attack now or after #2 is born?  I know nothing about girls.

Let me explain further.  I know absolutely nothing about girls.  Just ask my wife…

I don’t know if there’s anything that can prepare me for a baby girl more adding an extra bathroom and expanding her dress closet.

Luckily, the internet has loads of the parenting answers that clueless dads like me are searching for.  So, pink doilies, pink ponies, and pink sweatpants with ‘PINK’ written on the backside will be showing up on our doorstep soon.  Thank you Al Gore for one-click internet shopping!

I feel like the expectations for me to raise a little girl properly are high.  With Worm, the bar is set on the ground.  Keep him from torching himself.  Keep him from cracking open his head.  Make sure his limbs and digits stay attached to his body.  Pat him on the back every now and then with a “Good job, son.” thrown in for positive support.  No one second guesses your parenting style with a boy.  They just say “Oh.  He’s a spirited one!” or “He’s got some gumption!”  (Ok, no one under 60 says that anymore, but you get my drift.  Does anyone even say ‘drift’ anymore?)

With a little girl, I fear the mothers’ stink eye.  When we go out in public, I’m sure every mother will be peering into my daddy daughtering techniques.  They’ve got to, right?  I’m raising one of their own species.  They will gasp and chatter about how I’m doing this all wrong and that I’m doing that all wrong.  And that I don’t understand because I’m a man.  I’ll just smile and say “Oh, this time of month is rough for you, eh?  But don’t worry, you look like you’ll be post-menopausal soon.”  Then I’ll just grab #2 and run away as fast as I can!

I know what they are going to say to me.  “You’re supposed to braid her hair, not tie a double overhand knot into it!” Or “Can’t you see the mauve pants and periwinkle tube tops don’t match her green jelly strap sandals?” (Luckily, I can use color blindness as my escape plan.  Ah, the old X chromosome deformity excuse.)  Or even better “Why isn’t she allowed to go to the spa and get a mani-pedi facial?  She’s already 3 years old!”

As a reference, here’s what men are going to tell me.  “You’ve got a girl?  Good luck brother.  I hope you make it out alive.”  Or “Holy crap man.  With two women in the house, you should set up a bed in the garage for the one week a month you’ll be hiding out there.  It will help you defend yourself.”  Or the extremely terrifying delivery of “You’re going to find out more about women than you ever wanted to know. You’ll think the loony bin makes more sense than your house.”

Girls are fragile.  Girls are delicate.  Watch what you say to them.  They are sensitive.  You can’t treat them like boys.  You’ve got to wipe them the other way.  Don’t manhandle them.  Girls are not designed to do one thing at time.  Don’t hold her upside down, her insides may shift around or even fall out.  Don’t say no to your daughter, it will scar her for life.  

Sometimes life throws you a curve ball.  I’m so nervous and excited that I’m just going to close my eyes and let the bat rip.

3 Lines (near the arrow) = Girl. 3 Lines (near the arrow) != pumpkin turned on it’s side with part of the bottom missing.

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Categories MVG Oddities

#2, Can You Hear Me? Hold On While I Blast You With High Frequency Noise (POLL)

August 22, 2012 //
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Our gang is growing by 20%.  (For you number crunchers, I’m including our furry kids too!)  The current ratio of male members to female members is 4:1.  The testosterone laden bunch (mainly me, at this point) rule the roost when Steph’s at work.

Is this lopsided ratio going to even out a little?  I’m 99.9% sure that it won’t.  Using my magical powers of deduction and perception, it’s certain.  Once the stork drops off #2, we’ll be looking at a baby with a few extra body parts, if you know what I mean.  And if Steph thinks she’s outnumbered now, just wait until January.  It will be more of the same rip-roaring, dirt flinging, frog catching, video-game playing, beer drinking, alphabet burping and musical farting action at our place!

(Besides, who wants a pretty little baby girl to muck up the manliness we’ve got goin’ on by wrapping daddy around her little finger and getting her way all the time?  Not me…Ok, maybe that would be awesome too…)

We’ve got a couple days left until the ultrasound.

You got guts?  Wanna bet against the house?  VOTE IN THE BLACK BOX ABOVE!

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Categories MVG Oddities

Please Son, Tell Me Everything is Alright…

August 21, 2012 //
1

(This post was from last week, but there were technical difficulties with WordPress.)

There are days when the toll of fatherhood drills the very core of a man.  That toll wanted to be paid in full this morning.  Not in money, but in pounds of sanity.  (It’s happened to me before.  But, I’ve always blacked out from mental anguish only to later wake up remembering nothing at all.)  As I sat there in the living room staring at my progeny, I could only wonder what was sticking to my neck, how much alcohol could ease me through to Friday, and why I could translate Curious George’s cackles into full sentences.

Then, I was snapped back into the present with Duncan licking baby yogurt off my foot.  I just couldn’t bring the right attitude to the day.  I was in a bad mood and needed to zone out on the couch for a few uninterrupted hours.  Is that wrong?  Could I just toss Worm into his crib, close the door and let him amuse himself all afternoon?  Was I shirking my responsibility as a parent?  Should I be ashamed for not wanting to clean poop, wipe up food, or chase Worm around ad nauseum today?  If life had a pause feature, the second button press wouldn’t come until dinner time.

I stared off into space as Worm played with his food.  My brain was checking out.  I didn’t want to deal with the chores and baby that lay in front of me.  I couldn’t will myself to be engaging, funny or entertaining.  On the outside, I wasn’t more than a body taking up space.  On the inside, I was somewhere else entirely.  My guilty conscience rattled between my ears that “A good dad wouldn’t be so disconnected.  You should make an effort to ‘be’ with the Worm.  He needs you.  It’s your job.  Selfish asshole.”

A good dad.  I sure as hell didn’t feel like one and my thoughts concurred.  Even my actions spoke loud and clear that I was in no mood to be a dad today.   I didn’t want to do dad stuff.  I didn’t want to play with toy cars, or dig in the sand lot, or cut hot dogs into bite size pieces.  I was worn out, beat down, and drained.  I needed to recharge.

Then as if he heard me, Worm stopped what he was doing and looked up at me with the sweetest look only your child could give.  He patted me on the elbow and smiled as if to say “It’s alright, dad.  I think you’re doing a great job and I love you.”

Then he rest his head on my arm and gave me his little Worm hug.

I shed a couple tears realizing the Worm was there for me as much as I was there for him.

There are as many pillars as there are people in a family.  And when the roof starts to shake and one pillar weakens, the strength of the other pillars are plain to see.  We’re all holding this house together, no one more than the next.  (It’s a good reason to have plenty of kids…)  Thanks for your love and support Worm!

Gavin – 15; Dad – 7 (Bring me those hot dogs.  I’m ready to julienne the hell out of them for you again, Worm!)

We Pick Each Other Up…

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Categories Random Thoughts

Worm, Did You Misplace Your Second Nap?

August 8, 2012 //
2

I can’t find it.  It’s disappeared.  And I’m pissed.  I thought it would be another year before Worm stopped napping twice a day.

I was getting used to having about almost 5 hours of “me” time per diem.

Step 1 – Keep Worm’s brain and body in high gear until he ran out of gas.

Step 2 – Put Worm into sleep mode.  (He’d nap for a solid part of the day and I would catch up on my work and personal tasks.)

Step 3 – When Worm wakes up, repeat the sequence.

I was money.  I had this whole parenting thing on cruise control while I focused my mind on important matters.  I was the SAHD of every man’s dreams.  (It’s kind of gross when I ponder too deeply the thought of being in every man’s dreams.)

“What?  You can feed the hungry, build houses in Africa, and raise Gavin at the same time?  Where do you find the hours in the day?” the other dads would ask me.  And I would grin and reply “And one day I will stop global warming…but that will be sometime after #2 is born.  I need a challenge.”

All of a sudden, I’m getting half the “me” time and the s#!t has hit the fan.  I’m scrambling to keep it together because my system has failed.  I’m losing sleep at night to get stuff done and I’m a zombie in the daylight when I need energy to match Worm’s exuberance.  I feel like I’m trying to cram 10 pounds of proverbial s#!t in a 5 pound bag.

Do you know what I’ve now got to squeeze into that tiny window of opportunity?

Here’s my list:

  • Eat breakfast (“Sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” – Lewis Carroll)
  • Wash dishes (“No husband has ever been shot while he was doing dishes.” – Unknown)
  • Clean kitchen (“Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing up is like shoveling the walk before it stops snowing.” – Phyllis Diller)
  • Check and answer emails  (“I get email, therefore I am.” – Unknown)
  • Pack merchandise for internet business (“Folks who get all wrapped up in themselves, sure do make small packages.” – Unknown)
  • Exercise  (“It’s not sweat, it’s my body crying from the pain.” – Unknown)
  • Eat lunch (“As a child my family’s menu consisted of two choices:  take it or leave it.” – Buddy Hackett)
  • Take a shower  (“Cleanliness becomes more important when godliness is unlikely.” – P.J. O’Rourke)
  • Relax for a few minutes before Worm wakes up (“Man is so made that he can only find relaxation from one kind of labor by taking up another.” – Anatole France)

And at least for the next week, I’m trying to fit watching the Olympics somewhere in there.

So, if you’re wondering why my blog has slowed to a crawl, it’s Worm’s fault!  Too bad Worm doesn’t see things the way Yogi did.

“I usually try to take a two hour nap from 1 to 4.”

– Yogi Berra

He’s So Adorable When He Sleeps, Sometimes I Can’t Help But Wake Him Up And Kiss Him!

 

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Categories MVG Oddities

Crawling is Still Lip Smacking Good!

July 26, 2012 //
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I’m glad that we’re transitioning from crawling to walking.  I know I’ve heard that benefits of crawling include cross-brain coordination via the corpus callosum blah, blah, blah.  We’ve done enough of that.  (We can’t allow him to be too intelligent.  He’ll get made fun of at school.  Besides, I need to keep the upper hand.)  In fact, we’ve done so much crawling that now Worm’s body is faster than his brain!

The other day I saw Worm galloping his way across the kitchen floor with smoke spewing out of his ears from brain overload.  All of a sudden, limbs were flying every which way and “THUD!”.  Worm’s lips had kissed the floor…a little too passionately.

His upper lip started bleeding and swelling up, so we did what any parent would do in a situation like this.  We gave Worm a bath.  (Ok, it was to cool his little brain down from overheating.  Jeez, so we didn’t know what to do and bathing him was the first thing that came to mind!  Stop judging us!  We’re new at this!)

I know what could remedy this situation!

And of course, the miracle medicine that fixes all health problems….warm and fresh from the tap…bath water!

Drinking bath water heals cancer, raises the dead, and reduces swollen lips from disaster!

The USDA recommends 8-12oz of bath water daily for clear, healthy skin!

Worm, is this a sign that you should spend more time upright?  Your lips are so luscious now!  Very Angelina Jolie-esque!  I hope you didn’t knock too many brain cells loose.

A Few Crawling and Brain Development Articles:

http://www.ehow.com/about_6694635_brain-development-babies-longer-walk.html

http://www.bumptobean.com/crawling-and-brain-development/

http://www.wholenesshealing.com/when-to-use-therapy/infants-a-toddlers/brain-development/corpus-callosum

http://www.hoofbeats.us/cross-hemispheric-intergration/

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Categories Play

These Feet Were Made For Walking!

July 23, 2012 //
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On Saturday, Worm was feeling frisky enough to get up and dance a little two-step.  For 10 minutes straight, he worked on shakin’ his stems.  (It would have made Elvis proud.)  The sheer enjoyment on his face was priceless.  Not wanting to ruin the moment but wanting to capture it at the same time, I had a dialogue with myself.  “Should I jump up and grab my video camera now?  But, what if I distract him and we lose the moment?  Well, if I’m focused on trying to capture the moment, does that mean that I’m not really in the moment of watching Worm take some huge first steps?”  Faster than a sailor on a 4-hour shore pass, I wrassled my camera off the table and got er’ dun’ (Are the apostrophes even in the right place?)  Yee Hah!  I got it on film!  Now you can see Worm wobblin’ around like a mouthful of loose teeth!

Steph and I are happy to see the Worm evolve from four legs to two.  Soon, Worm won’t need to drag his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches across the carpet when changing dining locations.  I used to think our crawlin’ young’un was busier than a one-legged man at an ass kickin’ contest, but on two feet he’s going to be all over the place like greased lightnin’.  Our life is about to get nuttier than a porta-potty at a peanut festival.

For some of you, it will seem like the longest 75 seconds of your life.  But I promise, it’s better than bein’ poked in da’ eye with a sharp stick…Enjoy!

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Categories Play

TV Zombie Eating

July 20, 2012 //
1

The Worm’s got a bad habit.  He is a TV zombie eater.  (Thanks to me, it didn’t take long for the bad habits to start.  First, this.  Next month, it will be cigarettes and tequila for dessert.)  I have a huge pet peeve about mindless eating and this is quite an irritating conundrum…for me.  Worm doesn’t seem to mind.

When Worm’s sitting in front of me with a plate full of food, he picks at it.  I could sing and dance for him, but it hardly boosts his appetite.  Soon, boredom sets in and he’s chucking his sandwich bites at the dogs or letting them lick the jelly from his sticky fingers.  It’s not that Worm isn’t hungry, because he is.  Though to him, eating is pointless work with no real benefit.  (I tried to explain the notion of calories and how food gives toddlers energy, but Worm is certain he is powered by the sun.  Why else would he get tired at night?)

When I flip on the boob tube, cue up Curious George, and place the Worm anywhere near the TV screen, he locks in like a missile on target.  His eyes glaze over, blinking ceases, and his motion slows.  Worm’s alter ego, the TV zombie, has been channeled.  I pass a spoonful of cereal under his nose and the secret trap door drops open to accept the offering.  Access has been granted.

For the next 20 minutes, I don’t get flailing arms, pursed lips or the bobble head.  The beast is hypnotized and I am free to shovel hundreds of calories into its belly.  And Worm has no idea anything is amiss other than Curious George finding himself in trouble, yet again.

The Dual Eating Personalities of the Worm (TV Zombie Personality Shown Above)  Notice the Eyes…

I’m relieved that once the TV is shut off, the zombie disappears and everything is back to normal.  (One day this on-off switch may get faulty…but then there are medications that will fix everything!  I digress…)

I’m caught between a rock and a hard place.  I’m perpetuating the problem by feeding Worm in front of the TV, but I can’t feed him very well any other way.  Feedings are less than 30 minutes long when the TV zombie is eating.  Otherwise, I chase normal Worm around the house for 90 minutes coaxing him with anything possibly palate pleasing. (Say that three times fast!)  It’s exhausting.  (Chasing Worm around, not the tongue twister…)  I can only imagine at our therapy discussions how Worm will blame me for his poor eating habits and explain to the doctor how he sleeps in front of the TV with his pet monkey on a pile of Cheetos, Twinkies, and Bon Bons.  And as karma has a way of punishing us for our past misdeeds, his monkey will eventually eat my face and the cycle will be complete.  I am a horrible father and I will pay for it.

For this post, I can’t give either one of us a point.  We’re at a stalemate.  He needs to eat.  I need to use whatever works right now to facilitate that.  I can foresee that I will have to be smarter and more crafty to keep up with the evolving Worm.  It’s time to turn up my game a notch.

Gavin – 14; Dad – 7  (No Change)

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Categories Food
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