Silence

My wife and baby headed out of town for a few days this week, so I've been holding down the fort at home with the two dogs. A few observations (yeah, this is in bullet format, so what):

• I couldn't believe how sad I was to see them off at the airport. This is the first time I've been away from the baby since she was born, and I was worried about my wife dealing with a screaming baby on the airplane. Aside from that, the plane was carrying the two most important things in my life...I couldn't imagine what I would do if something tragic might happen.
• When I got home from the airport, I realized how quiet it really was. I could hear the house settling (at least I hope it was settling, for all I know it's just starting the process of sinking into the ground). I could hear the neighbors working in their yards. It dawned on me how hectic and crazy our lives have been this past couple of months. Hoepfully we've got some quiet time ahead.
• My one saving grace to keep me from falling asleep the minute I get home is that the Rays are playing the Red Sox this week, and I can actually watch the good guys (Sox) beat up on the interlopers. I had great intentions of studying for a licensing exam, but those plans have gone out the window so far. Maybe tomorrow.

So work on the bathroom progresses, and it's looking like the project will actually be wrapped up next week. My younger sister is in town this weekend, so that will be a great excuse for us to get out of the house and explore the town a bit.

I'm back...

As I mentioned in my last post, we've been going through a few minor "changes" around the house. Since mid July, I started work and work started on our house. If she didn't have an answer for "What do you want to be when you grow up?" already, our baby is probably now going to answer "handyman." Or -woman.

Our old/new house that we've purchased had a few issues when we moved in. And I would like to send sincere thanks to our inspector at Glisson Inspection Services for being perhaps to least accurate inspector in history. That's right, if you googled them and got here, take it from me - they are below average.

Our report identified a rough area under the master bath that needed to be repaired, so we went ahead and tore all of that up. As it turns out, the area that was identified needed no real work, but the roof, sewer line, water heater, electrical, skylight, and toilets have all needed overhauls. No mention of those on the report...apparently they aren't covered in "visual inspection." I've learned a hard lesson that there are people who will charge you to do the bare minimum, and there are people who are good workers who look out for your best interest. Guess which category these guys fit into?

We're getting it all fixed, and hopefully we'll have a comfortable home by Labor Day. Just in time for a hurricane to come bearing down on Central Florida, I'm sure.

What can I say about the baby? Well, she's growing all too fast. Just the other day I left for work, and when I arrived home at 7pm she was sitting in the living room chair reading a newspaper. Well, not really. But she's really developing a personality of her own. I'm glad I had the first 10 weeks at home with her, because I realize even more now how precious the time right now is. I see her for about 20-30 minutes in the morning, and then get home for a few minutes of smiles before her fussy time.

It's amazing how one little smile from her can make my day. I always thought it was cute seeing other babies smile. Well, actually I didn't really pay that much attention. But if I can just get a little smile out of her when I get home it's the most amazing thing ever.

So as work progresses and things settle down a bit, I plan to post a bit more. Until then we'll push forward with operation home makeover.

Grossly deficient

As a result of the move to Florida, I have nearly lost all touch with this blog. But fear not - I've been keeping notes offline so I can catch all of my loyal fans up on recent fathering activity.

The new house is fantastic. Except that it's an old house and it has required quite a bit of work to make it really livable. The baby's nursery is about the only room that has come together completely. I assembled the crib yesterday, and would compare the experience fitting the pieces together to solving a Rubik's Cube. But more on that later.

We've managed to dispose of all our moving boxes, packing paper, and other random items in just under two weeks. I currently have a personal vendetta against all things cardboard, styrofoam, paper, and plastic that relate to moving. My blood pressure seems to rise and fall with the level of those materials found in our living room.

But this blog is about my being a dad, and what the baby is up to, right? Well, it's amazing to look at all of the pictures that we've taken in the 9.5 weeks since she was born. She has changed dramatically and she's starting to form a personality.

One interesting personality trait is her attachment to her mother. I guess since we've been caught up in the move, she's been spending a little more time sleeping, eating, and playing with my wife. So when I sometimes hold her, she acts like I am a burning hot ember and screams to high heaven. Then mom takes her and she starts cooing like nothing has ever bothered her in her life. I never thought I would be offended by something like that, but it's really sad! So we've been trying to work me back into the rotation a bit more...hopefully it's not too late since I'll be back at work next week.

Well, we've got contractors coming to the house for the latest updates. I'll check back in with various hijinks from our trip across the country. Until then, keep your swaddles tight, your buttholes covered, and watch out for the spit up.

Fatherly Instincts

We're sitting in a hotel in Orlando resting our bodies from a nice vacation and a long drive today. I had some time on the drive to reflect on many things, and I'll be sure to post on the importance of family - something that we came to appreciate very much this week.

But first I wanted to convey a brief account of raw instinct.

Road trips along major interstates such as I-10 inevitably result in frequent stops at rest areas and roadside eateries. I can't count the number of blue signs that had McDonald's, Wendy's, Waffle House, and Bill's Buffeteria that we passed over the 1,200 miles we drove. So when we see one for something fresh, made-to-order like Subway, we jump at the chance to pull over for a meal.

As we approached Tallahassee, we encountered one such sign and decided to make a pit stop. Baby was squirming (a clear precursor to freaking out and wanting to eat) and Dad had to pee. We were also ducking a major thunderstorm that was passing over the road ahead.

I entered the Subway franchise, and was immediately greeted by a man in uniform - one of Tallahassee's finest.

"So, how far you goin'?" he asked. He was a cross between Barney Fife and Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man. I think he wanted to demonstrate his investigative talents, so he pointed at my Texas license plate and the overflowing roof cargo bag. Identifying me as a road-tripper would have only been easier if I had it stamped on my forehead.

Before I could answer his first question, he asked another:

"Where you headed? How far have you driven?" I responded with a few answers and we exchanged some pleasant banter while our sandwiches were being prepared. Soon, his sandwich was done and the cashier was ready to take his money.

"So did you know you're in a special Subway? There have been three shootings here in the last couple of months. That's forensic tape over there under the table. And that's a bullet hole right there next to it. Heh heh heh. Pretty funny, huh? How old is your baby?"

Wait a second. Back up one minute. Three shootings? In this Subway? Um ok.
"She's seven weeks old. So, uh, three shootings. That seems like a lot for one sandwich shop."

"Oh yeah," said the cashier, "I was here for the last one. Homeless guy was trying to get a drink and wouldn't lay down on the floor. Got shot in the leg and then walked right out the store. He didn't even care that he got shot."

Well good for him. I glanced at my wife leaning into our car to change the baby's diaper, and suddenly wished I had the "old" Subway Jared guy as a body shield. I could use a 400 pounder to block any stray bullets that might be heading my family's way.

I hurried through ordering my footlong Turkey and politely listened to the cop and the Subway sandwich artist exchange war stories about Battlefield Subway.

"Another time, I saw the guy crouching down like this in front of the window with his gun. I didn't even wait to see him walk in the door. I just ran straight out the back and didn't even turn around."

The cashier couldn't have captured my feelings better right then. All of the sudden everyone in the parking lot looked like they might jump out of their beaten up cars and start spraying the front of the store with semi-automatic rounds. I pretty much wanted to run, not walk, back to the car.

"Gee. That's incredible. Three shootings. Wow. Well, thanks for the sandwich, have a great day."

So maybe I'm paranoid. I don't know. But when I got back to the car, I insisted that we go to a different parking lot to eat our sandwich and finish our driving break. As if the only place in that general area that suffered from some form of crime was the Subway sandwich shop.

Or maybe it was just my fatherly instinct kicking in. Any place with more than a couple of shootings in a span of a couple of months just isn't safe. Move family far from there. That's a good rule to go by, in my opinion.

Vacation is over and we're back on the trail. Heading to Orlando today to meet up with my sister, then on to Tampa tomorrow.

Beach time

We successfully made it to the beach yesterday, and had a good night's rest. We've got about 700 miles behind us and 400 to go, and I think we're finally getting the hang of the car situation.

We're hoping for a low-key next few days, followed by the excitement of moving into a new house in a new city. Then it's back to work for me.

The baby seems to be changing every day. For example, yesterday her poops started turning green. And today they smell like low tide at a dirty beach. Who knows what tomorrow will bring!!!??

Writing a screenplay about last night's travel: 6 Hours to Beaumont. Good progress today...2 hours to Biloxi. Clouds rolling in...

I may have to push my start date back to august at this rate.

On the road from Austin. 60 miles behind us and already stopped once for an hour+ feeding. Settling in for a long evening.

Last day

The packers were here yesterday, and the movers are supposed to arrive in a couple of hours. Everything seems to be going smoothly so far for departure. We actually decided against torturing ourselves for 10+ hours through the night and will be leaving town this afternoon to stop halfway. I think that will be a better way to do it.

Possible radio silence for a few days, but I'll check back in with some notes from our adventure soon.

Fit Daddy

With a trip to the beach coming up in just a few days, I've begun to take note of my physical status since the baby arrived.

I remember the months leading up to our child's birth and thinking "I want to be in the best shape of my life when this kid pops out." And actually, I was in fairly decent shape. I ran a couple of half marathons and was a regular at the local gym. I could even begin to make out some semblance of "abs," although that might just have been wishful thinking.

Now the baby is here, and it's been pretty hard to get motivated to get out of the house, much less carve out a couple of hours for a workout. I saw this article today that seems to explain how I'm feeling. And I can only imagine the next couple of weeks are going to be about the same.

We've actually been debating whether to bring our couch with us to Florida, as I've worn a hole through one of the cushions since May 8th. Between late night feedings (SportsCenter), NBA playoffs (Go Celtics), and tournament golf I've been really hitting it hard. I sometimes shift my position so my legs are up on the couch, because I really wouldn't want to develop bed sores.

There's also the issue of all the food stains. Apparently I've taken some cues from the baby and am kind of a messy eater. Between the ketchup, chocolate chip cookies and hot fudge that I've managed to drip all over it, it's starting to actually look like a pretty good meal all by itself.

My mom keeps telling me about the time when I was a few months old and the pediatrician told her "there's a little too much of baby." Well, I think I may be hitting that point again. Might be time to start thinking about a workout program...

Father's Day

Today is my first father's day. I think it's going to be my favorite holiday of the year...it encompasses so much of what I enjoy in life. I've got a great family, a beautiful daughter, and there's no expectation of gifts (at least that's my perspective, anyway).

My dad was my best man at my wedding, and I've always considered him my best friend. He's been there for all my happiest moments, and been great support in tough times. When I got married, I wrote him a long note telling him if I can become even half the father he was to me, I'll be doing just fine.

My daughter got dressed up for the occasion, wearing her "I Love Daddy" onesie. My wife put together a slide show of all of my daddy pics from the last 5 weeks...brought a tear to my eye.

And I'm spending my afternoon watching the US Open on a blistering hot day in Austin. Tiger Woods is struggling through his final round with a bum knee. He had an incredible round yesterday, and I'm sure his dad was watching over him. He had a very special relationship with his father, and I admire him for that. Hopefully the knee holds out and he can find some magic again.

Happy Father's Day to all the new dads, old dads, and aspiring dads out there. "May you always love your own children as much as your parents love you." - Tim Russert

Like/Dislike: An Austin Retrospective, or Role Models

As our time in Austin is coming to a close, my wife and I are making a concerted effort to hit some of our favorite food spots before leaving town. After a long, hot day we decided to go to Trudy's, which is one of the best Tex-Mex places in town. If you go there, try the stuffed avocado or the chorizo-stuffed chicken...to die for.

This blog is about our new baby, so somehow a dinner at Trudy's has to be relevant to that. Trudy's is one of the things I enjoy in Austin. Tex-Mex food in general is great, despite its ability to clog my arteries and serve as a general de-motivator to any sort of physical activity at all.

One of the things about Austin that does not entirely appeal to me is the rather extreme hippie culture in certain corners of the city. Liberal is OK with me - it's great to hear different viewpoints, and see people genuinely interested in something other than their new BMWs. But when it goes to extremes it can be intrusive.

I've been more observant over the past month for a number of reasons. Our car was totaled, so I've been checking out other people's rides. Our baby was born, so I've been checking out families to see what their kids act like. Basically, I've been looking for a "role model" for our baby to aspire to. We're not pushy people, and I don't think we'll force fit our kid into a mold, but it's good to see how others handle themselves.

Well, on my way to pick up dinner (this is where the Trudy's part ties in) I was stopped at a light next to Pease Park. Pease Park is a popular place among frisbee golfers, holdovers from Woodstock, and the twenty-something homeless kids who linger around the UT campus. It is also home to Eeyore's Birthday Party. I don't hang out there much.

As I'm idling at the light, a brief gaze to my right revealed a peloton of nearly naked cyclists. They were organized as if about to climb l'Alpe d'Huez, yet there was a distinct sense of half nakedness among them - g-strings, hot pants, nipple rings. Astounding. The one who stood out in particular was the lone girl of the group, whose only attire was some body paint and, um, her bike.

Moments of clarity are so rare these days. I've been in school for two years, and haven't really had to think that hard in several months because the last semester was rather light. I did, however, have an immediate moment of clarity when I saw the naked cyclists.

If I have anything to say about it, my kid won't be the naked girl riding a bike around town with body paint on. Face paint would be OK, colored hair would be OK, maybe even (gasp) a tattoo if she really wants one. But I'm stocking up on cycling shorts and attractive shirts just in case she starts to explore the dark side like the guy in the picture right here. (And I don't know what the heck the bright pink guy behind him is doing...that's just weird.)

So this evening was a microcosm of our time in Austin and it captured a couple of the things that I both like and dislike. It also gave me a sort of anti-model for the baby...I don't think I'll ever get that picture out of my head.

Batten down the hatches

We had our first well-child check today, which also meant our first round of shots. Baby did great with the shots, and recovered from her brief crying fit rather quickly.

We expect her to get a little fever and have some sore legs this weekend, so we've stocked up on food and are going to grab a few movies to pass the time. We're hoping she tolerates the shots well, and we're glad she's covered before we hit the road next week.

I made the mistake right after our baby was born of checking out a few chat rooms on www.babycenter.com. One of them was titled "Immunizations." While I'm no expert on the subject, I do feel strongly that kids should receive their shots according to the guidelines set forth by the American Academy of Pediatrics.

I made the mistake of mentioning that on the chat board, and was ambushed by a bunch of earth mothers who'd prefer to potentially expose everyone at their kids' elementary schools to various diseases rather than subject their own kid to a couple of shots.

I'm just guessing this, but I think the folks at the AAP have done a little more research on viruses, side effects, and the like. And they even have Google, just like the mommies on the chat board. So I exited the conversation gracefully, but still am going to get my kids' shots on time.

Everyone is entitled to an opinion, of course. But a great quote I heard the other day said, "When children are involved, all common sense goes out the window."

Anticipation

In the weeks leading up to our child's birth, I wrote about a level of excitement, nervousness, and anxiety that accompanied the pending arrival. All of that culminated in the beautiful gift of a child.

These days, a new type of "anticipation" has set in...we're moving. That's right, the baby is one month old and we're packing up our house and moving 1200 miles east to Florida.

Luckily my company is paying for the move and we're not stressing over the packing/moving of our household items. But the drive has us racking our brains for ways to minimize stress.

The latest debate is whether to leave in the middle of the night or first thing in the morning. The benefit of the night time departure is that the baby might actually let us drive for 3 or 4 hours without wanting to eat. The downside is that we'll be driving in the middle of the night.

We're stopping a couple of times along the way, and have tried to set realistic expectations. For example, it took me 9.5 hours to drive to Biloxi last summer. We're expecting it to take about 13-14 hours with the baby. Worst case, we just plod along and get a hotel a little closer to Texas.

While the large items in our house are being taken care of, there is also the issue of the things we'll need to bring with us. Movers are great at taking care of your stuff, but they often don't have a concern that we could be sitting in our new house for a week without our "stuff." So we'll have to pack an Aerobed, the pack n play, the bouncy seat, clothes, diapers, formula, etc etc etc.

I've actually drawn a schematic of the car and where all of these items are supposed to fit. It's not to scale, but I think it gives me some peace of mind that we'll be able to make it work. I was going to scan it in, but I thought this picture was about right.

It's going to be a tight fit, but I'd prefer to avoid pulling a trailer or putting something on the roof that we'd have to empty every night.

Given all the craziness of the last month, I think the drive will just be one of those things we'll have to grind through. Between potty breaks, diaper changes, feedings, traffic, possible weather, and potential car issues we'll just have to grin and bear it.

Oh, and did I mention that we have two big dogs that will be riding in the third row? Sweet. Anticipation.

Achieving Your Childhood Dreams

My wife sometimes thinks I'm a morbid guy. I occasionally pick up a book about someone who died before their time, and wanted to write about their life and its lessons. Such books remind me of my own mortality and the need to take advantage of all the gifts we've been given.

One such book is Not Fade Away, about a cable industry pioneer who died from cancer in his forties. He talks a lot about his family, shifting priorities, and what he wanted his legacy to be for his kids. It's a sad story, with a fair amount of his business life mixed in. I recommend it to those of you who might be interested.

Another more recent phenomenon is the "last lecture" given by Randy Pausch, a computer science teacher at Carnegie Mellon. I've embedded the video below.



Fittingly, Mr. Pausch titled his lecture (now a book) "Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams." I've watched the video a couple of times, and I think it's great. While it is a a little too long to sit and watch on a computer, it's a very down-to-earth view of what is really important in life and pulls you in.

Since our baby was born, my wife and I have had sporadic discussions about what it would be like to lose our child, or for our child to lose one of us. Scary thoughts. That is just another layer of the responsibility that smacked me in the face when we had a kid - thinking about a will, life insurance, godparents, etc.

It also makes me think about how I want my baby to remember me. It's obviously impossible to go through every moment of every day worrying whether my kid would approve of what I'm doing, but it also makes me think long and hard about the types of things I get involved in, the little decisions I make, and what I write down for her to have in the future.

Aside from this blog I'm keeping a paper journal for her, where I'll try to document some of the important lessons I've learned along the way. Ideally, I'd hand that to her on her wedding day or when she leaves for college. (Ideally, she would also actually want to read it and hold on to it...so I'm not wasting time the next couple of decades!). I think that's a good way to stay connected and provide some insight into who I am, regardless of whether I'm here for another 70 years or another 7.

But give Randy Pausch's video a look...well worth it!

Bad influences

OK, my first disclaimer is that I haven't read this book. The second is that I'm not planning to read it, because 1) I wouldn't want to encourage the guy who wrote it to write another one, and 2) I think it's a ridiculous topic. With that in mind, back to my story.

I was reading the latest edition of The Week magazine and saw a snippet about a book that purports to help Moms tell their children why they would look different when they return from their doctor appointments. Mommy would be visiting the plastic surgeon and getting some form of surgery to make her look better (this article says it's a nose job and a tummy tuck).

Luckily, I think the market for such a book is fairly minimal (except for maybe in Dallas or LA).

I fear that the women who "have their kids in tow" when they arrive at the plastic surgeon's office will project their own body image issues onto their kids and start them on a similar path. The book's author seems to claim that he's helping out, but I can't help but think that it's a self-serving motive. If kids of plastic surgery patients are programmed early in life to believe that beauty is only a nip/tuck away, they'll likely seek similar services before too long. And that means more business for Dr. Salzhauer.

I'm sure there are varying opinions on this, but here are a few other books that Dr. Salzhauer might consider writing to help kids deal with their parents issues:

My Drunk Mommy - how to explain to your kid that shortly after 5pm you'll turn into a slobbering fool.

My Debt-Ridden Mommy - how to help kids understand that they can't have that toy because Mommy spent too much money on her new Manolo Blahniks (yeah, I know what those are).

My Strung-Out Mommy - helping kids understand that meth is not just a rural thing anymore!

Other titles are in the works, but these should give you a flavor...certainly an expandable market.

Simplifying

On a less exciting note than my recent battles with angry grandmas, the salvage service just came by our house to pick up one of our cars.

As I mentioned in a previous post, we had a terrible hail storm that did tons of damage to our cars. Our old Honda was damaged to the point that the insurance company called it "totaled" and we were forced to decide whether to keep it or turn it in to them for its fair market value.

We figured it's better at this point to turn the old beater in, pocket some of the cash for a month, and look for a new car when we get to Florida. So we're now a one-car family.

Now the big decision is what car do we buy? My last purchase was on Earth Day 2007, and fittingly I bought a gas guzzling SUV. Of course gas prices then were hovering around $2 a gallon and it wasn't all that bad to fill it up. Today, at $4 a gallon I'm starting to think a little more "green."

When we elimanate SUVs from the equation, and look at the numbers, we find that there are really two choices: get a Prius or get any other sedan. The next consideration is clearly
whether the car seat will fit comfortably in the back seat. That's the research I'm in the middle of doing.

And for anyone out there who thinks for a moment that I would consider driving a minivan...not even a chance.

Grannies: Love them and Hate them

We took our first family trip to IHOP the other day. To be clear, it was that International House of Pancakes (see picture), not the International House of Prayer. I know that can be confusing for some.

We don't actually frequent IHOP, but we were hungry and it was there, so we took a chance.

We've come to the realization that the baby is currently great at outings that are less than 3 hours long. So when we cross that threshold, all bets are off. Right as we sat down to order, we crossed the baby borderline. She wanted to eat, needed to be changed, and couldn't be soothed. That's OK, I'm an old hand at alternating between comforting the baby, feeding her, and taking a bite of my Rooty Tooty Fresh 'n' Fruity (see picture).

After some time passing the baby between me and my wife, I had devoured my meal, mainly because it is one of the most perfect meals ever. But I digress...

I took the baby out to the front of the store to get some air, and give the people around us a chance to enjoy the rest of their meals in relative peace and quiet. The baby is generally amenable to the warm Texas air. It serves as a sleeping aid and knocks her out almost instantly.

She was fussy for a few minutes, then gently slipped into a coma. As I was standing in front of the entrance planning my return to our table, a lady approached and grabbed my baby's foot.

Huh?

"Oh, I'm a grandmother, and I saw your baby was losing a sock...I just couldn't resist." Oh, OK. That's such a nice gesture. I wouldn't want to lose one of these expensive faux-ballet-shoe-socks that my wife scoured the earth for. And if I lost one, they're so small I couldn't use the spare one as a rag or anything. So that was a nice thing for this woman to do.

"How old is your baby? She's precious." One month, I responded. I think she's precious too, she's our pride and joy. Typical pleasantries, I thought. We get that all the time - our baby really IS a cutie. And this nice old lady was paying us a compliment on a Saturday morning.

And before I knew what happened...the lady's head had spun all the way around and her eyes had rolled back in her head. She was possessed, and I thought I had done something dreadfully wrong.

"WHERE IS HER SWADDLE??!!!"

Whoa. Where did that come from? Her swaddle? It's in the booth, 20 feet away. It's 101 degrees out here, about 30 degrees warmer than in there. In my one-month-experience opinion, I think that's OK. Oh, and if you want to ask my wife, she's right over there finishing up her pancakes.

Jeez, lady. I know you're a grandmother, but you just accosted my baby in front of the store, which I appreciated for a moment, and then jumped all over me about a swaddle. I suppose if her sock HAD fallen off before you saved it, my kid would be hanging out with the polygamist kids over at CPS because of my clear abuse.

Watch out for those grandmas - they're taking over.

The Scream, or Shrik, or Sex and the City Night

Last night was Mom's first night out with the girls. They went to see the new Sex and the City Movie. As I'm not a fan of hanging out with the girls or of anything related to Sex and the City, I was happy to stay at home with our nearly one-month old baby.

This is a picture of a famous painting called "The Scream." It was painted by a guy named Edvard Munch. All jokes about the guy's name notwithstanding, I think it is a little too serene a landscape for something titled "The Scream."

Edvard should have come by our house around 6:30 pm last night to really capture the scene. Actually, he could have come any time between 6:30 and 10pm because the baby simply did not let up! You cannot understand how traumatic it is to have an inconsolable baby in your arms for that long of a time without actually experiencing it on your own. There was simply nothing that would calm her down, and I went from calm to frustrated to hurt to sad to freaked out all in the span of 4 hours.

It was unfortunate that baby's first episode of crying fits (and it really was the first extended one) had to happen while Mom was out at the movies. I consider myself pretty capable with the baby, but there was really nothing anyone could do...I think she was just having fussy time.

So I took the night off from feeding to recover and assess my feelings. One thing that struck me is that the baby doesn't really care that you're a parent. She is gonna do what she needs to do for now. And it requires a lot of patience on my end...more than I ever thought I'd really need.

I just realized that in Norweigan Mr. Munch's painting is called "Shrik." Yeah, that definitely describes my experience last night.

A Complete and Total Barf-o-rama

Do you remember the story in Stand By Me when Gordie tells his friends about Davie Hogan and the pie-eating contest? All I remember is how well the filmmaker captured the barf-o-rama that spread through the crowd.

"Before Bill Travis knew it, he was he was covered with five pies worth of used blueberries. The women in the audience screamed. Bossman Bob Cormier took one look at Bill Travis and barfed on Principal Wiggins. Principal Wiggins barfed on the lumberjack that was sitting next to him."

And so on...

Last night was a challenging night for me with the baby. I've been taking one of the nighttime feeds to relieve my wife from her feeding duties and let her get some rest. This is absolutely essential for everyone involved, in my opinion. If Mom is cranky, then the day just doesn't go as smoothly.

Anyway, at 3:15am we heard some noises coming from the pack n' play. I knew it was my turn. The typical feed goes: change diaper-give bottle-change diaper-finish bottle-put back in bed.

Unfortunately, she had different ideas. I opened the first diaper to reveal a small amount of poop. While I was attempting to clean up her butt, she decided she had more to offer and sprayed it all over the place, a la Davie Hogan.

When I say spray, I mean she hit the changing table, the floor, the diapers, me and our bed. It was amazing. I gathered myself and finished the diaper change. In the process, however, the baby peed all over herself. So we had to go to the baby dresser and get a new nightgown.

The feeding was uneventful, except for the barf-o-rama that we had about 3/4 of the way through. I caught most of it with the burp cloth, but it still managed to find its way down her shirt and onto her belly. Here comes nightgown #3.

Another diaper change.

Finish bottle, commence with soothing. Another diaper change.

Somewhere around 4:45 am, I managed to get her settled enough to go back in the pack n play.

Just in time for her next feeding.

This is hard work, ladies and gentlemen.

The Rick Allen

Before the baby was born, some friends who were also expecting invited us over to watch Harvey Karp's "Happiest Baby on the Block" video. Dr. Karp is a renowned author who has a very specific way to soothe a crying child. The video was like something out of Criss Angel's Mindfreak. Strung out parents holding their strung out babies that have been wailing with no relief for weeks on end. In steps Dr. Karp, with a swaddle, a shushing sound, a stroke of the head, and a slight swaying and the baby miraculously calms down.

I have to say, we've used the techniques to varying degrees of success. It really works when the baby is just plain old fussy. It doesn't really work when she is hungry, dirty, or suffering from major physical pain. No surprises there, though.

One of the hallmarks of Karp's methodology is the "swaddle." This entails using a baby-sized blanket and wrapping the kid tightly so that her arms and legs are snuggled up, and she feels like she's in a little cocoon. The suggested method is to keep both arms inside to reduce self-flagellation.

What we've found useful are three different styles of swaddle.

First, the approved method, which I've dubbed the "straightjacket." When she really needs settling down, we swaddle her tightly so she looks like a little sausage. Actually, she looks a lot like Jack Nicholson on "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest."

Second is the half-way swaddle, which I've affectionately dubbed the "Rick Allen" after Def Leppard's one-armed drummer. When we tie down one arm, she lets the other hang out and double times with it.

Last, the two arms-out swaddle is a popular one with her mom. While this violates all the tenets of Karp's method, it provides a little more freedom for her to express herself. I call this one the "Matthew McConaughey" because it resembles a performance I once saw of his on a beach waving some palm fronds up and down. She could play a mean rhythm if we had baby-sized bongos for her.

Near the limit

Wow, it's been almost a week since I last posted. That's not very good...I'll try to do better.

We currently have a lot going on, and it seems that more gets piled on every couple of days. We'll be moving in 3 weeks across the country, closing on a new home shortly thereafter, and settling in to a new city that none of us has lived in.

On top of that, we got hail damage estimates on our cars this week...not great news. One car totaled and the other with several thousands of dollars in damage. So we're working on handing over the totaled car to the insurance company and figuring out the best way to handle repairs to our other car.

We're definitely nearing our tipping point in terms of "things going on."

Meanwhile our daughter is doing great. She's been settling on to a pretty good routine, and Dad has found himself doing more middle-of-the-night feedings. It's a good opportunity to catch up on colon cleanser infomercials and reruns of terrible 80s movies.

Our dogs have been dealing with the arrival of the baby pretty well. Other than being absolutely petrified if we bring her near them, they show lots of concern when she cries or squeaks in the middle of the night. We're trying to get both the baby and the dogs used to one another since they'll have to co-habitate for a while.

Anyway, just a quick post before heading out to find some dinner and a movie rental.

The Growth Spurt

Everything seems to be going faster, taking longer, and becoming a little more tiring these days. We're 16 days into this adventure, and it seems that Baby is hitting her stride.

The first two weeks were much less painful than everyone had told us. By day 7, the kid was sleeping and eating in 4-hour shifts. Now, it seems, she has a hunger that is insatiable. She wants to eat every hour, and the hour in between she's hollering for more food. Amazing really.

And her poops have become the stuff of legend. I'm talking Jackson Pollock here, true art form every time the diaper is unraveled.

Right now we've got the little one resting comfortably in her swing while we gird our loins for nighttime battle. We haven't broken yet, but I think we may face some more difficult times in the weeks ahead.

On another note, my parents recently celebrated their 35th wedding anniversary. My wife and I have been married 2.5, and hope to make it to 35 years. My parents raised 3 great kids, and sacrificed so that we could live happy lives. I became pretty emotional when my dad held my daughter last week...not really sure why, but I think I saw a bit of myself there. Mainly me wanting to be as good a parent as he and my mother have been to me. One thing is for sure, I'll try my best.

I feel awful

We had a big afternoon out on the town - Babies R Us, Petco, Cheesecake Factory. My daughter was the epitome of class the entire time - snoozing in the carseat throughout.

Then we got home, and we wanted to put her in her swing while we settled in. In my haste, I caught a tiny bit of her skin in the buckle and made her cry. I mean, I was purely looking out for her safety and managed to pinch the poor kid. So sad - I feel terrible about it. :-)

It's her first boo boo.

Morning Walk

I remember growing up that I spent a lot of time outside. One of my favorite activities, rain or shine, was to go out on the front lawn and toss a tennis ball off the facade of my parents' house. Perhaps that's why I had a strong arm when it came to sports like baseball and football. Perhaps that's why my Dad was always grumbling about muddy tennis ball spots on the house whenever it rained. But I digress...

I know it's early to think about these things, but I want my daughter to enjoy the outdoors. I don't want a kid that sits in front of the TV or plays video games or meets all of her friends on Myspace (or whatever the equivalent will be in 10 years).

So every day I've taken her for a short walk. Right now we just walk down to the curb and watch a few morning commuters drive by. We talk about father-daughter stuff and just enjoy the morning air. It's easy right now because I'm off of work and she's just a tiny pipsqueak. But I'd like to continue the tradition to get her outside in the mornings and maintain a good dialog between me and her.

I'm sure there are things she'll only want to talk to Mom about (and probably things I'll feel a little too masculine to talk about), but I want her to feel comfortable talking to me about anything...can only help as we pass through different stages of her life.

A new talent discovered

It is not often that you discover something about yourself that just can't be done by anyone else. A talent so profound that one wonders whether it is of this earth or "other-worldly." So when I realized this morning after just a few test runs that I have an exceptional talent, I was taken aback.

So basically whenever my baby eats, she has to eventually poop. She'll fuss and squirm in her mother's arms, in the bouncing chair, in the swing, on the bed, in the pack n play. But when she gets in daddy's arms she lets it rip within 90 seconds.

I am the human gastro-motivator. Awesome.

The first time it happened, I thought nothing of it. Only that I'd have to go change a diaper, which at this point has become a normal occurence.

The second time I thought it curious that she waited until I was holding her to let it go, but I let it pass.

The third time I was highly suspicious that something was going on. She clearly sensed something in me that gave her comfort in knowing she could poop.

I've always dreamt of being a guy who could make someone crap their pants when I needed to. Until now, I've never had much success. But the past few days have changed all that.

All Hail the Bouncy Chair

Our baby has been incredibly mellow during the first 12 days of life. She eats, she sleeps quietly, and she makes poo very readily. She even smiles occasionally.

So when she began to fuss considerably around midnight last night, I jumped into soothing mode. I shushed, I rocked, I tried to pacify with the Soothie, but to no avail. I tried the swing that she seems to like, but she still complained that it just wasn't doing the job.

So I broke out at device that many friends and relatives have sworn by over the years, but we hadn't tried yet. It's the Fisher-Price Bouncy Chair, Safari Edition.

I dropped the little girl in there, buckled her up for safety, and hit the button. Within 30 seconds she was sent into some sort of trance (maybe a seizure?) and her crying stopped. I watched her for several minutes, and even gave names to the animals depicted on the seat (shout out to Leroy, Geoffrey, and Bugsy).

After 30 minutes I think her discomfort got into rhythm with the bouncy seat, but that's alright. I got 30 minutes of relaxation and my wife managed to fall asleep. These days that is often the most important thing - distraction so Mom can catch a few Z's between feedings.

All Hail the Bouncy Chair.

WWPDF

We've come up with a new acronym to help Dad remember what to put into the diaper bag. As we were heading out the door for dinner with my parents tonight, I told my wife that I wanted her to test me on what to pack. I opened the diaper bag and it looked complete to me.

Luckily it was - we haven't made a lot of trips outside yet, so our initial packing job worked out. So as we were driving to meet my folks, we decided to come up with something to help me. Basically because I have a limited capacity for remembering the little things, and a large capacity for remember random useless facts.

WWPDF: What Would Poor Daddy Forget?

W - Water...for the bottles. Which is also carried in the bottles.

W - Wipies...These are the things that go between my hand and the mustardy poop that our little girl likes to shoot out her bum. She usually waits until I take off the diaper to let her fury loose.

P - Pacifier. Binky. Paci. Soothie. Whatever the heck you want to call it, it's one of the greatest inventions in the history of mankind. Right up there with the wheel, sliced bread, the interweb, and Dunkin Donuts.

D - Diapers...these are crucial. You can't really have a diaper bag without diapers. But you also need to make sure you've got enough. I think we went through about 40 in the first 5 days at home.

F - Formula...the secret sauce that gets mixed with the first W to make the sweet elixir that our daughter drinks, the pukes, in under 30 seconds. We use Enfamil, and have this cool little contraption that stores just enough formula for 2 ounces of water in each compartment. It reminds me of the things I used to store my fishing weights in when I was younger...the top spins around and everything. So cool.

Growing up

A week has flown by and my daughter seems to have grown considerably already. I can still hold her on my forearm and she weighs only a few ounces more than she did at birth. But that little extra weight is a small reminder that she's already "growing up." People stop us on the street or in stores and say how quickly they grow, how she'll be two years old before we know it, and how the memories of her will get a little fuzzy.

My parents talked at dinner last night about the paradox of wanting your kids to get to the next stage in life (from tee ball to coach-pitch, or from romper room to gymnastics), but then realizing that it's a one way road- once we grew up, they missed us as little tykes. So I've been making a concerted effort to take mental pictures of our beautiful baby thrashing around in the bed next to me early in the morning, or squinting her little eyes when the sun shines a little too bright. We try to capture everything on camera, but it still doesn't capture the tiny nuances of her personality. Those are left only to memory...

Friends and Family

One thing we've been grateful for is how many of our friends and family have visited and offered to bring food, groceries, etc. This whole baby thing is often debilitating between the amount of attention required, general exhaustion, and the amount of gear we have to carry around. I also appreciate not having to run to the store to grab the maxipads...always an awkward stare from the guy at CVS.

Middle of the Night

We had a ridiculous hail/wind/lightning/thunder storm last night. It was the worst storm I've ever been through, and it had me pacing in the living room wondering how many dings I would have in my car when I woke up.

After wiping about 3 inches of leaves off of the cars, I found just a few bad spots. I think we were spared the worst. A couple of friends reported broken windows, one guy at the coffee shop said his skylights blew out, and the coffee shop's espresso machine - gasp - was out of order. Explain to me how that works...piece of hail sneaks into the coffee shop and goes gangbusters on just the espresso machine? Hmmmmmm....I'm thinking lazy baristas looking for an excuse.

Meanwhile, the baby slept through it all.

Hail pounding on the rooftop, thunder and lighting blazing with all the heavens' fury, car alarms sounding. And she snoozed through it all.

While the storm seemed to last forever, it was really only about 15 minutes long.

And the baby slept that entire time.

And that's the only 15 minutes she slept last night.

Tired.

Family Time!

So far we've been adjusting to our new baby on our own, but today a big storm sweeps into town. Nana, Papa, and Auntie are arriving today. We're excited to introduce them to our little package of joy, and hopefully she's in good spirits.

She had a great night of sleep last night, and seems to be adjusting to a feeding schedule. Kobayashi better watch out, though, because she can suck down some milk!

Daddy Time

We had our first "official" daughter-daddy time this weekend. I spent the hour with my daughter on my lap watching SportsCenter. I can't say for sure, but I think she was pretty excited. I've noticed that she waves her left arm around a lot, so my early prediction is that she'll be the first lefthanded female pitcher in the big leagues.

Day Five, Still Alive

It's hard to describe the last few days as anything but a whirlwind. The baby is doing fantastic, and Mom is recovering well.

The labor and delivery were a lot simpler than I had expected, but it certainly gave me a whole new respect for the work that women do to bring a baby into this world. My wife is a superstar, and I'm so impressed by her courage and strength during the day. It's fitting that the prize at the end is a beautiful, loving baby girl.

My role during the day was mostly moral support, but I was amazed at how drained I was. Through most of the labor it was just me, Mom, and our head nurse. I held one leg and supported Mom's head while she pushed.

I think the only really shocking thing was that, due to the lack of other support staff, I got a skybox view of the baby emerging. Some people live for that moment, some people dread it. I was definitely in the latter camp during the past 9 months, but I found that it really wasn't an issue of being "grossed out" or squeamish about it. It was almost as if the sheet over my wife's knees was a divider, and her upper body wasn't even connected to the bottom while she was pushing.

The other crazy moment was when baby's head popped out. I saw a bit of a crown coming through and felt relieved that it wouldn't be that big of an item coming through the birth canal. And then with one big push my assumption was blown out of the water, and a head the size of a small soccer ball emerged. Wow - amazing. Shortly thereafter our girl was born, and we were overjoyed.

Feeding and diaper duty have been better than I expected. Seems like there's a different level of poop that I'm willing to tolerate in order to comfort the baby. I haven't gotten a golden shower yet, but I did meet the burp/puke fairy the other night. That was a thrill.

Anyway, posts will become more frequent since we seem to be past the heavy initial stuff. Thanks for everyone who tuned in for the live blogging...wasn't sure how that would work out, but I think it kept a few people on the edges of their seats.