Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Daddy and His New Caddie Day 1 :The Empire Strikes Back


Well, today was Day 1. For all intents and purposes, the fact that I can even type at all on a keyboard without passing out or throwing the laptop out the window is a win. I didn't know how to approach today so I chose the little league approach. For those who have never played little league, let me explain. The first time you ever play in a little league game you are soooo excited that you sleep in your uniform. Baseball pants, jersey, socks and everything. I'm pretty sure I did this for every team through college (the ladies didn't seem to like that in college, I don't know why, the metal cleats maybe?). So last night before bed I went with the same approach. Right before bed I thought, "What can I sleep in, wake up in, walk around the neighborhood in, go to Dunkin' Donuts in, go to the gym in, shower in, and put back on?"  I was going to be ready for anything. This outfit, for anyone that doesn't know me, is obviously a pair of Nike shorts and a grey T-shirt (Yep, that's me.)
The big issue with the CEO was if she was going to take the bottle. This was the only real problem she had up until now and I.was.ready. Nothing was going to phase me, we were going to make this bottle thing work, even if it took days. I would have a warm bottle ready for when we got up. She would be happily breastfed and full when her mom brought her to me and left, and I would be ready for the worst. A day full of the CEO partially eating and crying herself to sleep. Trying to keep my sanity. Trying not to let her see me sweat.  This is where she threw the curve ball. This is where the empire struck back.

I woke up on cue, was handed a breastfed and happy CEO and I was ready for battle. Then it happened. A nice breakfast for me, some "not" tummy time for the CEO, a stroll around the neighborhood and then, just as casual as can be, 2.5 ounces of nice warm breast milk out of the bottle. WHERE DID THAT COME FROM!!????! No tears! No screams! Sweet! Now we have a baby that will take the bottle! This will be perfect, just a little naptime so Dad can recharge... Just a quick nap?... Five minutes?... Anything?...Bueller?... Uh oh. That's when I saw that the CEO had recently sent out a company wide memo. It was like one of those song playing greeting cards and when you opened it, this was the song. I've attached the letter...

Employees,
I would like to inform all of you that nap time will be suspended until further notice. For those of you who might be confused, the following actions will fall under the category of naps. Sleeping in my swing, co-sleeper, crib, car seat, or pack and play. I will also not sleep after eating and under no circumstances will I be allowed to be rocked or swung to sleep in anyone's arms. The term anyone includes but is not limited to Mom, Dad, Nana, Grandpa, Grandma or Pops. Thank you for your anticipated cooperation in this matter.
                                                                     Sincerely,
          Molly B. Griffin
          CEO Griffin Household


A couple things. A. She needs some letterhead. B. I really should have thought harder about marrying a lawyer. C. Well-written for an 11 week old. D. WAIT! Did she just say she wasn't sleeping?!? Like, EVER? Ahh yeah. So that's how she is going to roll on Week 1. Maybe she will nap before we are up to our waists in trash, laundry, dishes and dust bunnies. You never know. There is one up side though. Today I ate 4 hard boiled eggs, a cup of broccoli, and a half a chicken breast from 7AM-6PM so at that rate I'll drop 50 lbs in 4 weeks. On second thought, maybe that is her plan? She must be using me as her test dummy for her new celebrity mom/dad diet plan that we will one day get Oprah to try and make millions. I'll keep you posted. 

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

My Last Will and Testament

Do you know who I am!!!
So this whole blog thing is supposed to be a journal of my escapades as a stay at home dad. There's only one little problem with that. I'm not exactly doing that yet. Alas, the day of the corporate takeover is fast approaching. One week from today the wife goes back to work which means I am in charge. Me. By myself. All day. With the CEO. Wow,  I almost got through typing that with a straight face. Seriously though, the CEO takes over a week from today, 8AM sharp. I can only imagine that at 8:05 a.m., I will be like this. We have had a few trial runs over the last week that have been, well, "interesting"...and by interesting I mean, filled with bloodcurdling screams from a very pissed off CEO. My main hurdle has been giving her a bottle. And by main hurdle, I mean "The one thing that terrifies me to my core because she will not take one. At all. Ever." (Big con of having such as kickass breastfeeder and breastfeedee). Shouldn't be an issue though, who needs food anyway? And hungry babies are really easy and happy, right? Soooo unless I can get that figured out, I will just have to walk her around all day long until Mom gets home with her precious liquid gold boobs. Which means in a matter of days I'll probably look like this

I figured the only thing to do before I enter the 7th circle of hell known as the Hungry Infant Who Refuses a Bottle Circle, was give a little summary of how the first 10 weeks of my little caddies life have gone. Since I last wrote about it, she has parted ways with her 2nd Mommy and 2nd Daddy and has begun a strong up and down friendship with her the bee that hangs from her carseat. I'd also like to note that the bee is actually a caterpillar but seriously, try saying caterpillar in baby talk over and over again. Screw that, that thing is a bee. At ten weeks she is already wearing 6-9 month onesies. This kid is taaaall. And with giant feet that attempt to bust out of any feetie pajamas we try to put her in. And another thing, I don't think I ever said the word "onesie" before January and now I can't get through ten minutes without using the word. "Can you grab me a new onesie?" "Did you blow out your onesie?" "Yes, she really is in 6 month onesies." I can't think of any other situation where this happens with one single word. 

Also, her favorite way to be put to sleep (aside from nursing of course) is like this. Which is A. Very obviously against her anti-tummy time edict and B. The one and only thing that I can do to her that Mom can't. Not that Mom hasn't tried, but the CEO has decreed this to be a daddy-only hold position. There had to be something right? Lastly, the kid can fart. Not like "awww that was cute, she must be pooping" farts. Like "Jeez Tom, did you really have to rip one right in the middle of the kitchen. IT WASN"T ME!!" type farts. Quite impressive actually. I just wanted to get a few of these things in writing before April 17th so if I'm found wandering the streets looking like a homeless person, talking baby talk to myself there will be some documented reminder of my former human self to snap me back to reality.

Monday, April 9, 2012

"Tummy Time Tirade"

I really don't plan on this being a "raving every time I write" blog, I promise. What's that? You think we need one more? You think we need one more... Alright we'll do one more.  I'm going to tackle something that will cost me the better part of my tongue if it keeps up.  I will start at the only prudent place to start, by apologizing to the very people I'm about to flip out on in the next two paragraphs. I know I am far from a child care professional. Shocking, seeing I have only been caring for a child for 10 weeks, I know. There is plenty of advice we've received from the pros that has been totally awesome about breastfeeding, bottle feeding, talking to the baby, reading to the baby, or how you're not allowed to give the baby Ambien if she hasn't napped in awhile (how do you think I have time to write these...). But there is one piece of incessant advice I just can't stand. It is a term that has come to haunt me in these 10 short weeks... "Tummy Time". It took me three tries just to type those two words because I shivered every time I tried, so from here on our we'll just call it TT. 

In the two short months the caddie has been around, I've heard about how absolutely essential quality "TT" is no less than 129387128973237129 times. And I've had more than one of my parent friends be made to feel terrible (like tears terrible) that their kid isn't getting enough TT. Essential huh? Now I like to think that I am a good parent. By that I mean I will try everything and anything for my daughter to be smart, stop crying, and be as happy as she can be. I mean anything. We've heard it from every professional out there, "Make sure you get in plenty of TT," "You really need more TT," "You're doing plenty of TT every day right?" Really? Something with a totally ridiculous name like "tummy time" is that important? They make it seem like if we don't give her TT all the time she'll grow up to be like this. Question for all the TT-pushers: Have you ever seen a first grader who can't sit up due to lack of TT? Ever seen a 10 year old with a doctor's note saying they can lay in a beanbag at school because they didn't get enough TT?  The kid is going to be okay. My mother had never even heard of TT, let alone forced it on me every day of my infancy and I walked at 10 months old and look where it got me. I'm no Olympic athlete, I bartend, write a blog, watch an inordinate number of hours of sports television and, well, that is about it. My parents "joke" (i.e. not joking at all) that when my sister came along they never let her feet touch the ground because frankly, two mobile kids under the age of 4 is the SCARIEST THOUGHT EVER for a stay at home parent.  My little sister is smart, excelled in athletics and she was raised under the "no rush, she walks when she walks" approach (My philosophy by the way). And neither of us got the recommended dosage of TT. As long as you're not sitting your kid in a seat for 12 hours a day and you actually play and interact with them, they will be normal, happy and healthy.  Forcing TT on the CEO isn't going to get her anywhere any faster and will just make her (and therefore, me) super pissed off.

Lastly, and I saved the best for last, here is the thing that gets to me the most about the TT push. Supposedly, TT is sooo important because the baby's neck and back muscles need it to to be strong and blah blah blah. And with this comes the follow-up advice of  "It's ok if the baby cries when you do TT, let them cry a little before you pick them up, it's OK" (which is pretty much counter to every other piece of infant parenting advice out there for other situations). Without getting in to the argument for or against letting my baby girl cry with her face into the floor, I just want to say this: How about you all go home, lie on your stomach on the living room floor, hold yourself up with your arms and watch an hour of TV. I wouldn't last 10 minutes. It's like planking for infants. And if you have never been in plank position give it a try for one minute.. I'll wait... Sucks huh? Planking: The Adult TT. It is the worst. And while I will continue to put the CEO on her stomach to change things up, I'm not going to feel like a bad parent when I pick her up when she goes from laughing, happy baby to demon baby on fire after thirty seconds of TT. 

So in conclusion to my rambling tirade against TT, unless I see a 10 minute iPhone video of you watching TV on your stomach in your living room you can take your TT advice and shove right up.....Oops the CEO woke up, and it's baseball season, so Dad and the caddie have some sports radio to listen to.