level up! (or, how to know when it's time)

well, i'm a month in to my daddy leave. it's been an adjustment for me. i used to concern myself with beer bottles, then wine bottles. now? baby bottles. however, i have tamed those twin evil monsters in the basement: the washer and dryer. i haven't ruined any clothes or flooded the basement (again) either, yet.

emmi is growing pretty quickly. or so it seems. just last week she was at the point in which we have to get her the bigger diapers. diapers go by weight, and there is really only one way to find out when it is time to switch, and it is not pretty. let's just call it, 'her butt runneth over.'

she's also moving around really well now too. when she first started to crawl, it was very slow and deliberate. now, i pull an effin' hamstring trying to catch up with her. she can pull herself up very easily as well. she's trying to balance herself and let go, and when she does she looks up at me with an expression that can only be described as half pride and half fear. it is this moment that i realize that she puts her full, complete trust in me. I had a similar experience with her as a newborn when we gave her her first bath. she had no idea how to react, and as kathy was washing her, she looked up at me with a look as if to say 'you got me daddy??' then as i smiled, held her hand and comforted her, she seemed to relax and let kathy clean her up. it's these moments that both make me proud, and scare the ever loving shit out of me. how do you balance letting her learn on her own, including falling and getting up and trying again, without making her think you aren't going to help? it's a balance; comfort her when she falls, but make sure she doesn't really get hurt.

i have a feeling that this is going to be a recurring theme.

in diapers (or, how to tempt fate)

so i've talked a little about diapers in other posts, but it's the kinda subject that needs a little bit more elaboration. the diaper change can put a person in a most precarious position, because in those few seconds, you are vulnerable to attack. i have never gotten mad at emmi, because i know she can't control it (yet). but i have been the victim of an undiapered sneak attack on more than a few occasions. a pee attack from a girl is not the same as a boy. instead of resembling an out of control hose, sometimes it can be a little dribble, other times it flows like a venetian fountain. i used to think of mcdonald's when i heard the phrase 'golden arches'. not anymore. the mess is usually confined to the space directly under her also, and usually is followed by an entire outfit change. and changing the clothes of a wet, agitated baby that is laying in a puddle and kicking like effin' bruce lee is not easy.

then there is number two. we have talked about the road tar stage, and the mustard butt stage, but since going to solid food, we are now at full on crap. there's a scene in 'three men & a baby' in which steve guttenberg (remember him? whatever happened to him anyway?) says, 'how can something so little make so much of something so disgusting?' we're at that point. there haven't been any sneak attacks at this stage yet, but if there's too much, the diaper might lose the battle. it is really not fun, because it usually ends with emmi going right into the bath tub, a pile of poopy pants making it's way to the floor, and mommy and daddy scrambling as if we were in pearl harbor in 1941. it's not that common though, because when we see emmi making a face that looks like she's trying to bend a spoon with her mind, we know something is on it's way out.

i'm not the swiftest and the most graceful with regards to diaper changing, but i will admit, i got cocky (no pun intended). i went so far as to change her in her crib at night. the first few times went off without a hitch. as long as i have everything ready, swoop the old one out and the new one in, there won't be any problem.

wrong.

the sneak attack comes swiftly and silently, like a yellow ninja in the night.

i have since learned my lesson. use the change table, no matter what.

the first six months (or, how to go from 0 to 1000 mph )

this week emmi is exactly six months old. when i think back to the days before she was born, i had this feeling of 'we're almost through this...' boy is that the wrong way to think. for a guy, the pregnancy is the easy part: be nice, get stuff for her, rub her feet, and don't do anything to piss her off that much. once the baby is born, after the initial excitement, you realize that this little creature has to literally learn everything, and it starts to sink in that this is really only the beginning. this prehistoric protector archetype starts to kick in, and all of a sudden you think you have to be some weird combination of superman, jesus, the dalai lama, and groucho marx. but there really is nothing that can prepare you for fatherhood. everything is learning on the fly, and even the best advice you may get from others may not work. i've found the best thing to do is do it your way while limiting your major mistakes.

that all being said, i do wish someone could have told me about a few things.

for instance, i wish someone would have told me that newborns, for the first 2 days or so, shit something akin to road tar. i could re-patch the driveway with the thick black sticky shit that was coming out of my daughter. another thing that would have been useful: after this road tar stage, someone could have told me that a babies' poop is rather explosive. i swear i almost hit the roof when an explosion the size of an m80 came out of her butt while changing her diaper. in fact, if it hadn't have just happened to me, i would have been quite impressed.

another thing that you learn: babies are easily amused. this is a really good thing. sometimes all it takes is a goofy face and the baby is amused for a while. forget toys, grab that burp cloth next to the bottle and play with that!

i wish someone would have told me that baby fingernails grow back really effin' fast. if i clip her nails on sunday, she's got a fully grown cocaine pinky nail again on tuesday. and clipping newborn nails is one of the most nervewracking undertakings you can try. one wrong move and you can seemingly chop off a fingertip. no pressure there at all.

so the most important lesson i've learned so far? it's a constant learning process. you learn a lot of stuff through good old trial and error. that and take a nap when you can.

happy 6 months, beautiful baby!

a silly idea (or, what to do during nap time.)

i am a first time parent. i have a 5 month old daughter, the first grandchild, the first great-grandchild, the first girl in my family since jehovah knows when. a first time parent needs to learn a lot real fast, and this test doesn't grade on a curve. you either fuck up or you don't. it isn't the type of job you can get away with doing a halfass job either.

anyone without kids who tries to give you parenting advice is full of shit. they've never been drooled, vomited, shit, or peed upon at 3am. they've never had to assemble a car seat. i don't care how often their nieces and nephews come over, it isn't the same.

that being said, i don't know what the hell i'm doing. there are times when i just look at her while she's screaming and say 'what did i do to break her and how the hell am i gonna fix her?' sometimes you come up with the silliest shit you can think of, and no matter how ridiculous it sounds, you think it's the best idea ever.

writing this is one of those silly ideas. this is a place for me to rant, rave, brag, bitch, complain, praise, expose problems, and offer solutions, however dumb they may be. basically, i'll describe what it's like to be a daddy. i hope you enjoy it, but if something i write here offends you, too bad. if any of this becomes helpful to you, great. if not, you at least know that i've been pooped on in the middle of the night, and that will at least give you an interesting visual.