Archives for posts with tag: Stay at Home Fathers

…to get your pacifier!  Use your Jedi mind.

If Luke Skywalker Can Do It, So Can I

Dad, That Sounds Like Way Too Much Work…

August 2011

Can I Wipe My Nose on Your Shoulder, Dad?

Can I Wipe My Nose on Your Shoulder, Dad?

We’re all incredibly sick this week,    (9)

Save for the two with the canine physique.    (10)

One with a hack and a cough so loud,

That the force of it stirs a small dust cloud.

Snot from a nose so tiny, it’s odd

To see such outpouring. Wad after wad.

Another has fallen, now his dad.

No strength from his arms, nor stamina had.

Sickness of both sore throat and green phlegm,

Plus stuffy nose to accompany them.

Mother has had a fever of late.

A temperature rise that wouldn’t abate.

The suffering mom, in a woeful state,

Rested all day long to get herself straight.

And the youngest of all, a wee tot

Sprung a leak in her eye, I kid you not!

It’s not so bad yet, though it is red.

Please stay well.  We’ve no more room in our bed!

Worm, you’re the one that brought the germs in,

And shared them so gladly with all your kin.

Your mouth should not lick everything dear.

Else we’ll suffer again like this.  You hear?

As soon as Smushie was born, Worm was jettisoned from the family sweet spot.  No longer the baby, he was metaphorically transplanted from his warm, cozy nest to the storage shed out back.  In addition, Worm can’t hog all of our parental love for himself anymore.  We’re now supporting a needy infant who requires a lot of our TLC (Honey Boo Boo, Toddlers & Tiaras, and Say ‘Yes’ to the Dress) to grow.  Therefore, we made the executive decision to proportion the lion’s share of our love to little Smush with the occasional scrap tossed in Worm’s general direction.  It will be enough to minimally sustain him and nowhere near the amount he received prior to his sister’s arrival.  (I’m not worried, though.  Worm will grow to be emotionally scarred, but win out in the long run.  Like an abused puppy, he will be irresistible to womankind and become a lifelong project for them to invest time and effort into.)

The big day was here.  I thought the proper ‘Dad’ thing to do would be to give Worm at least a couple hours notice of Smush’s impending arrival later that evening.  It seemed the perfect opportunity for me to practice this first of many ‘father-to-son’ talks by warming up the Worm to the idea of a sister.  I explained it to him in simple phrases like “more ice pops and cheese balls for dinner”, “nap times may disappear altogether”, and “all of your waking hours could be spent in front of the TV”.  He took it quite well.  (Ok, I could have been more direct with him, but why upset the poor guy?  He hadn’t a clue as to what was about to fall in his lap and I didn’t want to be the bad guy to tell him.)

Not knowing what else to do, I thought it easiest best to let Worm mull over our conversation in his mind while I went back to the hospital to grab the wife and baby.  The plan was for us to check out of the hospital, come home, walk Smush nonchalantly through the front door, gauge the crowd reaction, and then act surprised like we didn’t know how she got in the Subaru do our best to stay calm.

What will Worm do?  Will he be excited?  Will he gouge out Smush’s eyes?  Will he fling poop in her face?  Or will he break out in the Macarena dance?  What about the dogs?  What are they going to think?

We arrived at home around 6pm and collectively pushed baby and car seat through the front door.  The fervor and excitement in the house shot through the ceiling…and took everyone’s brains with it.  With no gray matter to control their bodies, dogs were howling (i.e. Frodo), dogs were vomiting (i.e. Duncan), and kids were flailing (i.e. Worm). Frodo’s howling was loud enough to hear three doors down and Duncan’s distress shoveled his semi-digested dinner onto the carpet.  Worm frolicked around the living room, babbling hodge podge nonsensities at the top of his lungs.  Even hours later, the air was still thick with anxiety and nervous giddiness.  A little too much adrenalin was squeezed out that night, and the troops paid for it in sleep.

The next day came at a fraction of the previous night’s intensity.  With the jitters out, Worm and the dogs got to examine the newest member of the family under the warm rays of the early morning sun.  Within minutes, Worm stamped his sibling seal of approval right on the end of his little sister’s foot.

Worm Gives His Little Sister a Kiss!

Worm Kisses His Baby Sister!  How Sweet!

Gavin – 21; Dad – 11 (You get two points for this one, Worm.  Your heart is so incredibly full of sweetness.)

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!

So, I’ve been daddy blogging for the past week and a half and I realized something.  I am not the first to daddy blog about being a first time dad.  So I’ve got no choice but to follow the excellent path set by those daddyblogs before me.  Sort of.  Some of the daddy blogs are pretty funny, like Busy Dad Blog and Cry It Out.  Other daddy blogs are useful, like Stay At Stove Dad and Frugal Dad.  With my daddy blog, I hope to bring the most interesting stay-at-home dad perspective ever.  I want the best daddy blog in the universe.  I want to be the funniest dad blog, the most useful daddy blog, the most groundbreaking dad blog, the best written daddy blog.  Yeah, all of that.  I want to be the Jay-Z of daddy bloggers!  With my incredibly limited vocabulary and extensive use of parentheses (even when it’s unnecessary), I will excite you, tease you and make you cry like a sublime S&M relationship.  And hopefully keep you coming back for more!

Even if you don’t learn anything whatsoever on my hip, new daddy blog, I hope that you will enjoy the ride as we raise a kid in the good ol’ U S of A!

If there are any products that you would like me to review pertaining baby stuff or daddy stuff or baby daddy stuff, please let me know.  I’d be happy to test out new products in my own home and give my honest opinion using the accurate Worm rating algorithm we’ve developed solely for this purpose.

If there is anything you wish for me to write about, including pregnancy pain from a man’s point of view, labor and how I narrowly escaped it, spanking someone else’s parents kids, etc., just let me know.  I’d be happy to give my inappropriate opinion since that’s what we do in California.

Did I do enough to entice the search engines you?  I love money comments.

One day, I hope to be in the Top 50 Daddy Blogs!

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