Newdaddy!

Newdaddy Times Two!!

2010-09-07T19:27:00.002-05:00

I am proud to announce that there will soon be a new member of the Newdaddy club: me! Yes, folks, Newmommy is pregnant.

It shows how poor of a blogger I've been: due date is five weeks from today.

In an effort to balance my too-busy-to-write-long-posts with the enjoyment I had last time around with sharing my adventures, I've decided to start a twitter feed: NewdaddyInNJ. When I've got a lot to say, I'll still use this blog, but for the bits-and-peices, follow twitter.

Looking forward to going around this crazy merry-go-round again!!!

Q: What would Quagmire's kids wear?

2010-04-18T08:54:00.003-05:00

An Open Letter to Bad Parents

2010-03-20T09:12:00.005-05:00

Dear Parents-With-the-Six-Year-Old-the-Three-Year-Old-and-the-Baby-Who-Brought-The-Whole-Family-To-Hooters-Thursday-Night-at-11-p.m.,

Seriously?!?!?!?!

Taking a cue from the great Michael Scott, I (a grown adult) joined three other grown adults Thursday night at Hooters to watch round one of the NCAA tournament. (By the way, I went 22-10 in the first round, with 15 of my sweet sixteen still alive). I am not necessarily proud of my selection of venue and, I must say, being the father of a little girl, I felt mildly sleazy. However, one can't argue with their wings and the cost of pitchers.

But then, in you came, at 11pm, with a six-year-old, a three-year-old and a baby. I ask again...seriously?!?!?!?!? It's like a kid getting arrested for DUI, there are SO MANY things wrong with that. First, it's 11pm. Your kids should be in bed. They should have already eaten. Your three-year-old looked like he was about to pass out. Even with the giant rack in his face. (I do realize that a giant rack in a baby's face is quite typical, but this isn't exactly how it works.) Also, it's Hooters. Despite the fact that they have promotions aimed a kids for some reason, and a kid's menu (which I had to take home with me for the comedic value), it's not exactly a kid's restaurant. It's even less so at 11pm. I'm not going to get into issues of nutrition.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say: children shouldn't be in bars at 11pm.

Sincerely,

Newdaddy

Awesome Stuff You Can Get Away With at Age 3

2010-03-14T13:29:00.002-05:00

Kidcabulary

2010-03-13T09:32:00.003-05:00

Yesternight (n), last night. "Daddy readed me a book yesternight." [I guess "readed" would also be kidcabulary.]

P.S. As I was writing this, I hear, "Dad, here's your tutu!" Uh oh....

I Don't Get It

2010-03-07T10:53:00.006-05:00

Am I getting old? Because I don't understand kid's TV shows these days.

Max & Ruby....where are your parents? Ruby's not all that old, is she really responsible enough to be taking care of Max on a full time basis? That's quite a burden to place on a young rabbit. Also, she doesn't seem all that attentive to her brother...I am watching an episode right now where Ruby's trying to make a clubhouse and Max keeps bothering her. Basically, she keeps trying to get rid of him. Some parenting. And I'm not sure how comfortable I am with this creepy Bunny Scout Leader coming by without parental supervision.

Yo Gabba Gabba. Look, I respect Biz Markie's lyrical abilities, but I think Bud's educational focus at age three should be on something other than beatboxing. (For us adults, however, it's never too late to brush up on the basics:)

That being said, there's probably more educational value in a creepy robot teaching kids to wash their hands and not to eat glue than what I watched...a cat and a mouse beat the living shit out of each other.

And Where the Hell Was I?

2010-03-01T21:29:00.003-05:00

Where have Newdaddy, Newmommy and Bud been for the past year and a half? Coming soon...

Covering the Basics

2008-11-20T20:24:00.004-05:00

"Boys have a penis and girls have a vagina." - Kid from "Kindergarten Cop."

I realize that I am now that guy who you dated for a few months, had some great times with, and then stopped calling you. And now I'm ringing you up for a bootie call. Why should you give the time of day to someone who's been MIA for almost three months? Because this is a good story.

Bud has gotten the whole girl/boy thing down. She turns to me tonight and says "Daddy is a boy and mommy is a girl." Duh! Then, we quizzed her...What's Jacob?...a boy...What's Ali?...a girl...What's Nana...a girl? She went 9 for 10 (and the 1 may read this so I am not going to say who it is). Then, she proceeded to list everyone in her class, and their gender.

She then decided to brush my hair, and give me a headband. As she put the headband on, she said, "there you go big boy." And not "big boy" like in the way a tranny would say it...more like the opposite of what Newmommy says when she puts the headband on her: "there you go big girl". In other words...she's starting to get it.

Now, how to I convince her to stay away from the boys until she's twenty-one?

Back to School

2008-09-08T13:43:00.003-05:00

It's quite a day: Bud turned two, and started preschool. It's hard to imagine that just two years ago yesterday, I was trying to fall asleep on a hospital floor while awaiting Bud's first appearance, and today, I was sitting in a mini-classroom, trying to squeeze my ass into a bright yellow kid's chair. Neither was comfortable...and I wasn't ready for either. But, like life and parenting, you've always gotta keep moving forward.

6:40am, and I was still feeling the effects of yesterday's second birthday party. No, not a hangover, not from alcohol, at least. Running around chasing kids, while manning the camera, and putting down pizza and cake (more than I should in an attempt to justify what I was paying for!) followed by opening and assembling the new toys will take its toll on anyone. By the way, the toys have moved from music-y, block-y, plastic-y baby toys to girl-y, princess-y, ballerina-y girl toys. Newmommy wakes me up. I'm taking today off from work, but yet, I'm waking up at the same time.

7:35am, we wake up Bud. The wake up routine is somewhat easy: we look at her, she looks at up with a big "Hiiiiiiiiiii. Have good dre-ams." We sing happy birthday.

8:25am. We give ourselves an extra 15 minutes before the trip to the preschool for pictures. What is this, a friggin' wedding? Bud alone...Bud with mommy....Bud with daddy. Daddy with the backpack....Mommy with a bagel, etc. 30 pictures total..what did they do before digital photography?

8:55am. Bud's running through the school towards the classroom, not realizing that her two-decades full of studying, tests and state capitals are awaiting her at the other side of the door.

9:00am. Studying, tests and state capitals are obviously a long way off. This year it's dress-up, ~~blocks~~ manipulatives and art. She begins playing with an animal/barn set very similar to what she has in her own playroom. She seems to like it.

9:15am. Bud shows little interest in the art project, but seems to be slowly acclimating to the environment. A bit hesitant, until the teacher announces that we're heading outside to the playground. She said the magic word.

9:30am. Newdaddy asks his first neurotic-parent question of the teacher: "How can you watch 12 kids in such a big playground." Answer: we're more spread out than usual because we have the parents here...but we usually focus on a smaller area. When more classes are out here, the teachers take "zones." OK, acceptable answer.

9:45am. Snack. Bud is very interested in Cheerios....and drinking water out of a cup. She got about half in the mouth and half on her dress. That teacher better improve that ratio before June! 10am. We leave. It's a short session today, parents admitted. On Wednesday, it's a full day, parents optional.

When Bud gets up from her nap, we're going to celebrate in a more traditional style: with some ice cream. All in all, I think Bud did great. Newmommy...well, she has more adjusting to do! I'm sure she'll do great too. That is, of course, until it's time to drop her off at college. But that's a few years away!

Things I Learned in Pre-School Orientation

2008-09-06T22:28:00.002-05:00

Bud starts pre-school on Monday, which also happens to be her second birthday. This past Thursday night, I attended pre-school orientation. Here are some things I learned.

1. "Peanut Free" is different from "Peanut Aware." When asked if the school is "Peanut Free," the administrator responded, "no, but we are peanut aware, meaning that we don't serve peanuts or anything with peanuts, but don't control what kids bring to school." Nobody I knew growing up had a peanut allergy- how is it that this has suddenly become such a huge issue?

2. Pre-Schools have their own "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy. If you kid gets bitten, you are notified, but they won't tell you who bit your kid. Isn't that unconstitutional...isn't there something in there about confronting your kid's biter? The administrator did point out, however, that the kids usually tell their parents who the culprit was.

3. Toys are now called "Manipulatives." The pre-school gives kids the opportunity to stack, sort and play with "manipulatives." Back in my peanut-loving preschool days, they were called "blocks."

4. The kid of the parents in the row behind me is potty trained. Honor student. I hope they grade on a curve here.

In all seriousness, this school looks like it's going to be really fun for Bud. If you were to close your eyes and picture a nursery school teacher...her new teacher is what you'd come up with. The place looked to be run very professionally (much more than I expected from a nursery school), which made me feel like we made the right choice. On Monday, Bud's formal education begins...and I'll be taking the day off.

Rock On...

2008-08-31T07:50:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, while trying to find Bud's latest favorite episode of "Little Einsteins," on OnDemand, I stumbled upon The Karaoke Channel which conveniently had a "Kid's Karaoke" option. I put on "Twinkle, Twinkle" and Bud's wheels began to turn. During the first pass through the song she was pointing out letters, "B for Baby", "D for Daddy"...and she started singing the song on the second pass.

Karaoke has got to be a great activity for kids- not only can they rock out to their favorite songs, but it also must be helpful in develop reading skills, as the words light up as they sing them.

Of course, at the end of the song, an announcer says, "For more information, visit our website..." For some reason, Bud became obsessed with this part, and went the whole day asking "for more information." Or more like "Good Morning, A Mission..."

(For more information about Karaoke, please visit the Karaoke Channel website, or go to K-Town in NYC and rent a private room.)

The Scariest Word

2008-08-24T10:01:00.003-05:00

Today I heard the scariest word from a woman since Newmommy said "Ring." The word is: "Mine." Yes, two weeks shy of the second birthday, Bud has used that oh-so-common word that declares to the world the sense of self. And that pretty much nothing else matters.

Not that Bud hasn't declared her sense of self already. She is now regularly telling us what to do ("Daddy, sit for you!")...what she wants ("More strawberries!")...and to leave her alone and let her do it herself ("No hands, daddy!"...."[Bud] do it!!").

And, she absolutely insists that we play her favorite games, which so far consist of "Looks Like So Much Fun" (which is pretty much just spinning around in circles saying "looks like so much fun") and "Restaurant", which is basically asking her what she would like, and giving her pretend French toast. I win every time.

Bud starts pre-school in two weeks (I know, right...) Her teacher sent the class postcards welcoming the kids to her class. Bud wanted to play with this "teacher book", and when we took it back to go in the upcoming scrapbook, Bud yelled, "Hold it! Mine!!"

Uh oh.

4 Year Old Manipulation

2008-07-28T12:59:00.003-05:00

I was having lunch at a friend's house recently, when his four-year-old daughter began taking chips from an open bag on the kitchen table. My friend asked his little girl to stop taking the chips, and she complied momentarily. Then, as if to "challenge" her daddy, she slowly stuck her hand in the chips while staring directly at my friend, and grabed a chip.

Angered, the daddy asked, "why did you take a chip while looking directly at me??" As if to ask, "you know what you're doing is wrong...and you know that I know what you're doing is wrong....so why did you do it??"

Not missing a beat, the little girl replied, "because I love you."

Game. Set. Match.

How do you argue with logic like that?

What is Love? Baby don't hurt me...

2008-07-12T19:08:00.002-05:00

Bud dances now. But when she does, she really only moves her head around. I think I've seen that dance before...
While she danced the other day, I started to sing the theme song, until I realized that the last thing you want your kid repeating in public is "don't hurt me."

We Don't Throw Food...

2008-07-12T18:49:00.003-05:00

...except that one time in college when me, Bluto and Pinto wanted to get back at those damn Omegas...wait that was someone else.

There are a few sure signs of adulthood...if being thirty-two years old isn't enough. Preferring VH1 to MTV is one. Appreciating history (damn, that John Adams series was good!) is another. Knowing that Freddie Mac is not a McDonald's character is another. And saying "We Don't Throw Food" more than ten times in a week is certainly one.

Yes, my friends, we have entered what some might call the "Terrible Twos," although I cringe when I hear people use that expression much in the same way I've been cringing during those damn Mohegan Sun commercials. "M-m-m-my Mohegan....shut up!!"

Until now, we haven't had many "behavior" issues, so this is my first brush with being a disciplinarian, and I sort of feel like the principal in You Can't Do That On Television...("OK, Moose, for your detention I'd like you to copy pages 5 through 1,523 of this dictionary..." ) Tonight, as we walked into a Mexican restaurant, Bud threw her sippy cup at the hostess and grunted "Meeh!" We had to explain to her why that type of behavior was not right, and broke out the big guns when she refused to eat and kept throwing her food...no watching her Grover DVD tonight.

Part of me feels like a real A-hole because Bud really doesn't understand and fully appreciate all of life's rules. So, it must be really hard to be doing simple things like dropping her fork, or pulling her straw out of her drink or dipping her crayon in the guacamole, or dropping her peach in my morning coffee, and constantly being told "No!" On the other hand, she has to learn the rules, and the only real way to learn is to be constantly reminded.

I considered whether the food-throwing is a behavior "problem," but I figure that all 22-month-olds act like this in some way. So, for now, I've gotta be a cop and constantly stop Bud when she breaks the rules. I'm sure she'll get it. Until she goes to college, I guess, and then all bets are off. Still, I've got some time before I have to worry about that.

My Daughter the Frat Boy

2008-06-29T19:28:00.003-05:00

Sign my daughter up for a frat.

Friday night, she walks into our family room, "watch the Yankees." Not Elmo...not Dora...the Yankees. "See Joe De-a-magio." OK, a few years too late...but the right idea. At least she knows "De-lick Je-ler."

Saturday morning, Newmommy asks, "What do you want for breakfast?" "Beers." The fact that she said beers...plural...made that priceless. Not 'till you're fifteen.....

Today, we told her we were having a bar-b-que. All day "bar-b-que...bar-b-que...." Of course, by the time the grillin' was almost done, she was, as Newaunt would say, a "hot mess," so we needed to put her down for a nap. First thing she said when she woke up: "hot dogs! hot dogs!"

Sports, alcohol and meat. Damn, I'm a good father.

[N.B.: No...of course I don't give Bud beer. But, I do give her hot dogs....kosher hot dogs...(what kind of dad feeds kosher hot dogs??). And, I expose her to the Yankees like all good fathers should.]

World's Best Dad My Ass...

2008-06-17T21:54:00.002-05:00

Dear Guy-at-the-beach-on-Sunday-wearing-the-"World's-Best-Dad-T-Shirt,"

You sonofabitch.

How dare you wear a T-Shirt that says "World's Best Dad" on Father's Day? Father's Day is the one day out of the year when all of us fathers get to stop, look at our families, and take pride in what we've accomplished for our children. It is a day when we get to bask in the pride and admiration of our wives and children. And you have the nerve to publicly announce that you're better than the rest of us.

Are you really the World's Best Dad? Who made that decision? I am unaware of any international committee that tabulates research results or surveys from all over the world to arrive at one person who can truly claim the title "World's Best." And even if there was, I would question their methodologies...I doubt any group can truly and accurately obtain and sift through all of the world's information regarding fatherhood, and arrive at one certain "World's Best." But, I don't think you were chosen by any committee. Methinks your kids just bought you the shirt, without doing any friggin' research at all. That's pretty presumptive.

Plus, I saw you spending most of your time on the blackberry. I am pretty sure that the World's Best Father would spend zero time on his blackberry while lounging with the kids. In fact, World's Best would probably not even OWN a blackberry...he would spend all of his non-office time with his kids.

I award you no points, and may Gd have mercy on your soul.

Best,

Newdaddy

Goin' to the 'po...

2008-06-14T14:43:00.003-05:00

I don't get you Home Depot dads...these guys who spend every weekend morning at the 'po (as my former boss used to call it) and every weekend day doing a house project. I spend my weeks busting my ass in the office; I can't imagine spending my weekend re-siding my house, extending my garage two towns over, or putting in a new anything. I spent my afternoon today putting together a small plastic climby-wall-thing-with-a-slide for Bud, and that was a pain! Plus, every time I go to Home Depot, I end up getting the wrong thing, and having to turn around and go back. No, I don't bring home a toilet flusher when I was going for a lightbulb...but, without fail, every time I buy anything, it's always 1/8 inch off.

Someone asked me, after I gave this rant, if the problem is that I'm just not handy. I don't think it's that, although I've never really tested out my skills in that area.

Two exceptions. One...electronics. I can wire a stereo together pretty well, add speakers, etc. Of course, if I need to rewrite the outlets or install speakers in the wall...I'm out. Two...my grill. I love that friggin' thing...ever since we got it earlier this summer I've been addicted to grilling burgers, hot dogs, chicken, you name it. A moth landed on the grill as I was cooking last night...and I thought, just for a moment, that it wouldn't be so bad to see how that would come out blackened...!

I realize that grilling has nothing to do with being handy...I just wanted to bring it up.

The "L" Word*

2008-05-24T12:08:00.003-05:00

*No, not that "L" word.

Almost every population has an associated slur that's typically offensive to that type of person. Races, religions, nationalities, disabilities, people who excel at certain activities, people who are prone to certain activities...one thing they all have in common is that at some point, someone dreamed up a word to offensively describe them.

And, today, I learned that little girls are offended by the term "Little." Let me explain...

Bud is in the point-out-everything-she-sees phase. Playground. Slide. Pizza. Today, we were at the playground, and Bud sees a little girl. She said, "Little girl." The girl whipped her head around and said, "I'm not little. I'm a big girl 'cause I'm four!" My one-year-old offended this girl! The ~~little~~ big girl turns to her father and says, "Daddy...she called me little!"

Uh, oh. Seems like I have to sit down with Bud and explain to her that she just can't go around spouting ageist slurs like that.

Let this be a warning to you all. I wasn't aware that this was offensive. The next time you're in a bar and the population is predominantly women under the age of seven, make sure you avoid using the L-word.

The Newdaddy! Hall of Fame

2008-05-14T19:09:00.007-05:00

The Newdaddy! Hall of Fame recognizes individuals who have provided substantial support or advancement to the field of parenting. And today, I honor, Professional Family Portrait Photographer from the Babies-R-Us I Went to Last Weekend.

Only someone with patience and dedication can truly put up with an anxious father looking to get the perfect mother's day present, a twenty-month-old who can't, won't and has no interest in sitting still for a fifteen-minute photo shoot, and the proud-yet-embarrassed mother wanting perfect photos from the prettiest yet most squirmy little girl in the world.

Only someone with cat-like speed and reflexes, and the timing of a Superbowl quarterback, can capture the millisecond-held smiles between the frowns and cries. Only someone with an advanced degree in child psychology and the experience of a hundred grandmothers can figure out how to get an upset, tired, hungry child to even put on those smiles.

Professional Family Portrait Photographer from the Babies-R-Us I Went to Last Weekend, welcome to the Newdaddy! Hall of Fame

Mother's Day Memories

2008-05-11T20:10:00.003-05:00

Happy Mother's Day!

Today makes me think of Mother's Day two years ago, when Newmommy was pregnant with Bud, and I didn't get her a present or otherwise acknowledge the day for her, thinking that Mother's Day didn't apply to pregnant women.

As it turns out, Mother's Day applies to pregnant women.

Make a note.

Get Your Hibachi On

2008-05-10T20:10:00.003-05:00

Newmommy and I went out on a limb tonight and took Bud for hibachi. We figured it would either be really cool or a complete disaster. Bud is going through something of a whiny phase, and if you mess with her eating routine it only gets worse. It turns out- hibachi is a great place to take your young kids.

First of all, its loud, and the sizzling of the hibachi and clanking of the knives drown out any whining, crying or loud talking. Second, the "show" keeps kids occupied. Third, they serve a variety of food over the course of the meal, so if the kid doesn't like one or many items, there are still others to choose from.

Well, that was a pretty good seventh grade three-point-argument paragraph.

Bud did really well- she was in somewhat of a bad mood when we first got there. (Today was particularly tough as we spent the morning taking professional family photos. More on that later.) But, when the food started coming, she was trying everything and loving it...miso soup, fried rice, noodles, steak (I am so proud, she loved it!), chicken...this chick really went to town. She did get a bit freaked out when they lit the fire, but handled it very maturely...turning away, no crying, and clapping her hands when it was done. Oh, and she ordered rice from the waitress...looking at her and yelling "RICE!"

I recommend giving it a try.

I Suck at Blogging

2008-05-07T20:04:00.003-05:00

Wow, do I suck at blogging. This thing started with the proverbial "full head of steam," and now I realize that this is the longest intermission between posts since I started. No, I'm not looking to give it up. To avoid sounding like an erectile dysfunction commercial, I've been under a lot of stress lately...really busy at work. Of course, that's a total lie. Well, not a total lie, as I am quite busy at work, but I actually do have time to write...I've just been, how you say, hella-lazy. I have been watching the developing train wreck that is the 2008 Yankees (yes, I do realize they have a better record then they did at this point last year, but I also realize that you can't make a serious run with only two-and-a-half pitchers in your starting rotation.) Newmommy turned me on to Facebook, and I've reconnected with a whole bunch of high school friends...if by "reconnected", you mean accepted them as a friend, wrote one e-mail back-and-forth, and then recommenced where we were immediately prior to the Facebook discovery.

I guess part of it is a temporary lapse in good post ideas. Bud's doing amazing things every day, so that really shouldn't be the case, although a lot of times I can't think of a good "spin" for the story, and I don't report to avoid simply pouring details about my kid. Like George Carlin said, "We'd don't care about your kids, that's why they're your kids."

But, now that I've gotten the blood flowing through the fingertips, I hope to get back on the blogging horse, and not put a tent around it on the track.

I think Abe Lincoln said it best, when he said, "Be excellent to each other. And...party on dude."

Bud Knows the Alphabet...all Twenty-Seven Letters

2008-04-24T19:23:00.004-05:00

She picked it up from the Sesame Street Sing-a-Long DVD, which goes:

"A, B, C, [...], L, M, N, O, P, everybody, Q, R, S...."

So, now, between P and Q is the letter "bali."

But, more importantly, she's starting to learn the real basics. Ask her who's in her "Yankee Book." "Joe Di-a-magio." Hey, close enough. Oh, and "Derek Je-ler."

I'm sure there's a "Big Poopie" joke somewhere in there, but I'm too lazy to look for it.

The Bread of Affliction

2008-04-22T21:33:00.003-05:00

Trying to get a one-year-old to sit through the entire Passover seder is a bit of a challenge, but Newmommy and I figured we'd get as far as we could. Apparently, someone had tipped Bud off to the fact that the first seder marks the beginning of eight days without bread or food with any sort of leavening. Early in the seder, the leader holds a piece of matzah and declares, "this is the bread of affliction, that our forefathers ate in the land of Egypt." As soon as those words left my mouth, my daughter, on perfect cue, replies, "Pizza."

Exactly.

In all fairness, she did enjoy everything on the menu. And I mean everything. This one-year-old eats chopped liver (but we already knew that), gefilte fish, stuffed cabbage, brisket, and anything else that comes out of a Jewish grandmother's kitchen.

P.S. We welcome A-Rod (back) to the Newdaddy club; he and his wife had a baby girl last night. Now, let's try decorating that chick's room with a world series trophy!

Le Superparent

2008-04-19T07:02:00.004-05:00

Apologies for my neglect, I was on a two-week business trip to Europe. One of my stops was Paris. I had the opportunity to do a little sight-seeing over the weekend and found myself at the Arc de Triomphe. The view from the top is pretty amazing. Anyway, to get to the top of the Arc, there is no elevator, one needs to navigate this long spiral staircase.

Not an entirely amazing feat- even your out-of-shape humble narrator was able to do it. [Sidenote: I went jogging two weeks ago, and on the jog tried to figure out when the last time I worked out was. I think George Bush (W., not H.W.) was President, but I can't promise it was during this term.]

At the top, I saw this.

That is "superparenting," folks. Someone brought a stroller to the top of the Arc. That means that someone dragged that thing up that long spiral staircase and, in all probability, brought a stroller-age kid to the top. Bravo!

Time to get my Matzah on...Happy Passover.

That's Not a Dirty Diaper...that's just Beans 'n Rice...

2008-04-07T21:14:00.002-05:00

I'm not sure where Mountain View is...and I'm not sure I want to know.

Bud's a Singer...and she's British

2008-03-31T21:17:00.003-05:00

...she's ready to join the Spice Girls. Wait, are they still around? Man, I'm getting friggin' old.

Bud now belts out full songs. Highlights include "Twinkle, twinkle," "Ring Around the Rosy," and the ABC Song. (Which is the same as "Twinkle, Twinkle", but it's pretty cool that my baby knows her ABCs....) She also sings songs from her Sesame Street DVDs. There's nothing like hearing an eighteen-month-old randomly belt out "Old McDonald." "Eee-Yayyy-Eee-Yaayyyy-oooohhh!"

And, she's British. She was watching some show a few weeks ago with some British kids growing potatos. One kid says, in a very thick English accent, "We're growing po-tay-tos." Then, yesterday, Bud walks over to the mulch in our front yard landscaping, picks up a bunch and says, "tay-tos...tay-tos." How very worldly.

P.S. Even though we got rained out today, it's good to see baseball back in full swing! (It's also funny to see the Tampa Bay ~~Devil~~ Rays in first place. I'm sure that will last.)

Weekend Off...and a Clear Favorite

2008-03-24T19:49:00.003-05:00

Much to the amusement of our friends, Newmommy and I had a mini "vacation" to New York City this past weekend. I used the quotes around "vacation" (and, had I been talking to you in person, I would have done the "air quotes") as, technically, a trip to NYC is not a vacation to a Jerseyite. Still, it was a great time...had "lights" and "darks" at this bar, got a chance to finally see a movie in the theater (Borat was the last one Newmommy and I saw together), and, most importantly, got a chance to see this guy at a comedy club (no, not Larry David, the other guy, who was hysterical).

The end of the weekend comes, and we are reunited with Bud. Bud's face lit up when she saw us...and then, for the rest of the day, it was all about Mommy. Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! Hey male provider, who the heck are you?

Now, I'm not surprised. Newmommy spends every day with her; and I only get weekends and a sliver of time on weekdays if I manage to catch a decent NJ Transit train home, and the train has no delays (ha!) Still, it's tough.

I don't want to come off as a complainer here...it's not like Bud doesn't get excited to see me. (Yes, I see the double negative...shut up.) The best part of my day (on the days Bud is awake) is when I get home and see Bud. Bud jumps up and screams "DADDY!" like fifty clowns, twenty Elmos and Dora the Explora herself came through the door. And, if I'm there when Bud wakes up, "Daddy" is usually her first word. So, I guess Bud's not really playing favorites. But it is hard to compete when you're competition is a woman who spends her entire day feeding and entertaining your child.

P.S. Finally, finally, finally...a new baseball season begins tomorrow. The Yankees don't start until Monday afternoon, but in the meantime, at least for tomorrow and at least in Japan, I'll be an Oakland fan. GO A's!

Book Report: "Elmo Visits the Denist"

2008-03-18T22:12:00.000-05:00

It's been a while since I've done one of these, but I felt the need, given the sensitive subject matter of this book. "Elmo Visits the Dentist" is a story about a young Elmo who completely sells out his friends to help out a known terrorist.

As the book opens, we find the Big Bad Wolf of pig-house-destroying fame in pain with a toothache. Elmo, rather than bask in the glory of a local criminal receiving some form of comeuppance, helps the bastard out and takes him to the dentist where, sure enough, his toothache is cured.

Why would Elmo do this? Some psychologists have suggested that Elmo has such a strong desire to be liked, it doesn't matter where that approval comes from. Still, this is no excuse. Sure, the two little pigs who chose to build their homes of straw and sticks were not really wise in their construction plans, but is this any reason for an f-ing wolf to destroy their homes (and, in some versions of the story, eat the pigs)??? I don't think so. If it were up to me, I'd say...let that wolf suffer. He's caused enough pain.

Looks and a Brain Too

2008-03-16T18:41:00.004-05:00

While changing Bud tonight, I asked, "Whose pretty?" Not missing a beat, Bud looked back at me and stated, very matter-of-factly, "Smart." As if to say, I'm not just a cute face, love me for my brains, daddy.

Unfortunately, she doesn't practice what she preaches. At today's Purim carnival (she dressed as a ladybug...very cute...) she was having lunch with one of her friends from pre-pre-school, when she smiled at him and then, while he was off-guard, swiped a piece of his pizza. Using the looks to get what we want, are we? Then again, that move was rather smart....

Looks and a brain too. There are so few of us out there.

Although, I could have done without her insisting on me reading (and then re-reading) the back of the Elmo DVD tonight. "Enjoy these easy-to-sing songs with your child, blah, blah, blah." I tried to get her to stop asking for me to read it ("Again! Again!"...like a friggin' Teletubby) by reading the disclaimer. Nope. Maybe she'll be a lawyer like her daddy.

Your Son Crapped His Pants

2008-03-09T12:40:00.003-05:00

Dear Father-on-the-trampoline-at-the-birthday-party-I-was-at-today,

Your son crapped his pants.

I smell it. You smell it. The woman at the front desk at this kiddie gym smells it. Hell, the whole party smells it. So why are you letting your son continue to jump on the trampoline with a full bowl of pants pudding?

Perhaps something is wrong with your olfactory system. Still, can't you see everyone picking up their child as they jump by you, smelling their butts and then sighing in relief that it's not their kid with the trouser chili?

Are you waiting for your wife? Fair enough, I, in fact, pulled that this morning...Bud dropped a deuce (actually, it was more like a deuce-and-a-half) right around the time mommy was about to take over...why should I go through the trouble of changing the diaper? (No such luck, though, I lost odds-or-evens, 2-to-1.) In any event, there's a time limit for letting your kid sit in fudge tracks.

Your son crapped his pants. Please change him.

Sincerely,

Newdaddy

Mispronounced, but cute

2008-03-06T20:22:00.003-05:00

My wife's cousin (does that make him my cousin?) warned me to enjoy the "cute words," those words that are cutely mispronounced, now, because by the time the kid hits three, they're gone. (Or, I guess they're not cute anymore.) Here are some of my favorites:

Mes-a-min (medicine)
Mi-na-mi-na (banana)
Pladaloo (proud of you)
Bippy (Grampy)
Ba-bay-bees (strawberries)
bu-bay-bees (blueberries)
C'lay-ma-loom (play room)

P.S. If your four-year-old wants to get drunk before going to school, tell her it's "not a good idea."

What Kind of Mortgage Rates are they Offering Two Year-Olds?

2008-03-02T16:31:00.003-05:00

This outdoor playset costs $122,730. There are houses cheaper than that. Until now, I had never seen a jungle gym that actually required taking out a mortgage. Now, I'm no expert, but I do believe that children of jungle gym age would be considered the sub-prime market, no?

While checking out this website, I also found a "tuffet." I didn't realize, in all this time, that was actually something! Screw this...I'm going to get me a fat bowl of curds and whey.

Accepted

2008-03-01T19:35:00.004-05:00

No, not to the South Harmon Institute of Technology.

To pre-school.

Dear Newfamily,

Welcome to the Newpreschool Family! We are pleased that your child has been enrolled in our program for the 2008-2009 school year. The following information confirm's your child's place in our program. Class assignments will follow over the summer with additional parent information.

[Information]

On behalf of the Newpreschool, we thank you for choosing Newpreschool and we look forward to seeing you in September! [Emphasis Added]

Very truly yours,

Vernon Wormer
Director

No, it's not one of those fancy pre-schools which required an interview. Yes, I think they accept all applicants. But, yes, Newmommy cried.

It's an Inside Joke...You Wouldn't Understand...

2008-02-24T14:53:00.002-05:00

On Tuesday, I took what a former boss of mine would call a "Mental Health Day." I took the day off to spend time with Newmommy and Bud, and to take part in the activities I typically don't see (which included a trip to My Gym...no, not my gym, I'm not much of a workout guy, I mean My Gym.)

By the end of the day, I realized that Bud reserves certain words & phrases for me...as if they are our own little inside jokes. When I'm gone, Bud will repeat them, but then say "Daddy." Here's a few:

"Yeeee-haaaa!" I think I said this once in passing, but you haven't lived until you've seen a seventeen month-old cowgirl.
"Amazing!" When Bud started walking, I said, "Wow! That's Amaaaazing!" Now, whenever she does something she knows is right; she'll turn to me and say "Amazing!" I think that's a Mets catch-phrase, so we gotta get that in check before April. (Along with her mis-pronunciation of "Excuse Me", which sounds an awful lot like "Do Me." Who do you think you are, Bel Biv Devoe?)
"Ball" Yes, I'm teaching Bud to throw a ball. It's never to early to learn the basics.
"Chaoup" (a chomping sound). I pretended to eat her nose once, and she's been trying to get me back ever since.

She's also counting to ten now, and sort of spelling her name. She gets very excited when she gets to ten (as do we), but she won't count on cue. You just need to be there. As far as spelling her name, I think it's more our repetition than anything, but it's still cute to hear.

Oh, and there is one more thing she says to me often: "Daddy Home." It's cute, but then I realize that my being home is relatively unusual for her, considering I spend most of 5 days out of the week away from her. That's a bit depressing.

Can I Get Some Service Over Here?!?!?

2008-02-23T10:19:00.002-05:00

One of the most fascinating things about parenting is watching your child suddenly make a connection: they realize a fact of life (no, not the kind with Tottie and Blair) and immediately change their behavior to account for it. We had one of those moments this morning.

Up until today, Bud's wake-up routine was pretty easy. There would be a good thirty-minute or so period where she would wake up; grunt and moan for bit followed by some quiet talking, followed by some louder talking. The talking was happy and content, so we let her wake up during that period...giving us time to do the same. I think those days are over.

My guess is that last night, Elmo came to Bud in a dream and said (in that annoying high-pitched voice...) "Hey, Bud, do you realize, you can call your parents in the morning and they will come and get you?? That way, we can get to playing much quicker!! Elmo loves you!!"

7:00 am: "Moooooooooooommmyyyy! Aaaaare you???? Daaaaaaaaaaaadddddyyyyy! Aaaaaare you??? P-lay, p-lay, p-lay."

Swiper: An Other?

2008-02-18T18:02:00.004-05:00

Bud is a toddler.

I'm not sure what it means to "toddle," but I'm sure it involves the regular repetition of the words "No," "Play" and some form of "Playroom" (C'lay-ma-loom). As I've noted earlier, when Bud is done eating, she declares "All Done!" and then proceeds to sing the "Clean Up" song while throwing on the floor whatever food remains in her tray. She really does think she's helping...thanks, Bud, but..uh, no thanks. All this is an attempt to get back to the playroom as quickly as possible.

She also has entered the age where she's obsessed with Dora the Explorer. Just in case you've been living under a rock, Dora the Explorer is a show featuring a Spanish speaking little girl, Dora, and her monkey friend, Boots, who together go on adventures. They find their way with the help of a character creatively named "The Map," all the while trying to dodge a masked fox named Swiper who's always trying to Dora-jack them. This Swiper is a real asshole, in one particular episode, Dora is helping a ladybug bring a cookie home to feed her ten (!!) children, when Swiper grabs it and throws it into the forest. Like I said- a real asshole. It's bad enough that this ladybug has ten kids; and you know it's a really bad situation when she needs to go deep into the forest to get ONE cookie to feed all ten kids. (Let's not even get into the questions of the nutritional value of the cookie as sustenance for even one kid...we can also skip the question: where was the ladybug's husband this whole time??) But Swiper didn't even eat the cookie: he just chucked it into the forest like that kid in camp when I was five who took my lollypop and threw it onto a rotten banana. Someone ought to kick that Swiper right in the junk.

I learned today, however, that the voice of Swiper is also the voice of the Map. Coincidence? I don't know about you, but I think this has the makings of a "Lost" plot...the Map has been one of the Others the whole time, secretly gaining the trust of Dora and her friends. And now, that her guard is down...he can direct the team right into the hands of Swiper.

I'm still working out how Dora can get into the Jack-Sawyer-Juliette-Kate situation.

Is There An Echo In Here?

2008-02-11T22:31:00.000-05:00

Bud is talking up a storm. She perfects her mastery of a word or phrase by repeating it over and over and over...

Here's an example: "Good Morning." I don't know where she picked it up, but she spent a good part of yesterday saying it. As we passed the front desk on our way to swimming, Bud says to the receptionist, "Good Morning." Then to everyone in the locker room..."Good Morning, Good Morning." Well into the afternoon. I don't really fault her for that, she doesn't wear a watch.

Example number two: Doctor. She went to the doctor today, and received a doctor playset over the weekend. She sounds like a scene out of "Spies Like Us." "Doctor, doctor, doctor, doctor."

Three: Talk. Newmommy and I are driving home from dinner at a friend's place last night, when Bud requests that we turn her CD off. We do, and she says "talk." "OK," we say, "what do you want to talk about?" We talk about Nana and Papa and Auntie and whomever else she raises in her "rollcall", Elmo, Ba-beet (Big Bird), etc. Then, we're quiet for five seconds. Suddenly, we hear...."talk!"

And, tonight, about a week late..."Touchdown!" "Touchdown!"

She rules.

I'm Not Perfect...No I'm Not...

2008-02-04T00:15:00.000-05:00

Those are lyrics to the Laurie Berkner song, "I'm Not Perfect," a song that Bud, much to the dismay of Newgrandma, has taken to singing. (She believes that her granddaughter is perfect, which is, of course, true, if you disregard her throwing her French toast on the floor while singing "clean up, clean up...") OK, Bud's not perfect...but she's pretty good at sports pics, apparently, with a solid 3-0 record so far.

But you know who's really not perfect? The New England Patriots.

CONGRATULATIONS NEW YORK GIANTS!!!!

Let's Get Some Shoes

2008-02-03T14:00:00.000-05:00

In honor of Bud's gradual mastery of walking, today we took her to get her first pair of shoes. As parents with their "first", we made a huge deal about this otherwise ordinary trip to the shoe store. Bud's feet measured a '6', and I have the photographs to prove it. Yes, the shoe salesman thought I was crazy for taking pictures. (Yeah, like I'm the first over-proud daddy to take his kid for shoes.)

After we bought the shoes (which, by the way, were double the price I was expecting...), we decided to try them out by walking around town. Bud was great on her first outdoor walk...she made it down to the end of the block. Bud walks like a drunken sailor on downers, wobbly and slow.

On the ride home, she kept playing with her shoes and saying "shoes....shoes..." It's a lot funnier... as is the title of this post...if you've seen this. I guess Bud's a fan. She seemed proud...like she knew that getting shoes is something reserved only for the illustrious "Big Girls."

Oh, and by the way...it worked last time...so I'll take the long-shot and try it again:

Bud's Superbowl pic:

New England Cheater-McCheatties vs. the Giants of Jersey

Upset- Giants by a field goal.

GO GIANTS!!!

Earmuffs!

2008-02-01T20:45:00.000-05:00

"Having kids is great, you can teach them to hate the things you hate." - Homer Simpson

You can also teach them tricks. I've noticed that Bud is picking up so many words, mannerisms and facial expressions without any instruction. I figured, with some instruction, surely she can learn some cute...I hesitate to use the word..."tricks."

I decided to teach Bud "earmuffs" from the movie Old School. For a few days, I would say "earmuffs" and hold my own ears. Then, for a few more days, I would hold her ears while saying "earmuffs." Then, I took her hands to hold her own ears.

Last week she sort-of got it. I said "earmuffs," and she put one hand to one ear. Great, halfway there. This week, the response is both hands over her mouth. I'm not sure if that's a step forward or back, but I think I can have her doing this by the end of the month. Won't that be great at parties?

Oh, and she's full-on walking now. And when I say "full-on", I mean 15 to 20 steps, followed by a fall.

What is a Good Father?

2008-01-27T21:29:00.001-05:00

I visited a friend of mine this weekend (himself a newdaddy with an eight-week-old), and it came out that I have this blog (it's not the first thing I tell people and, believe it or not, a good number of my friends have no idea I do this). When I told him it was about parenting, he was surprised, as he assumed it was a blog about how to be a good parent (and I, having only done this for about sixteen months, am in no position to be giving anyone parenting advice). I quickly explained that it was more a "blog-u-mentry" about my experiences as a new father, but it got me thinking: am I a good father? And, if so, or if not, what is a good father?

And here's my answer: I have no idea. But, let me take a crack at it anyway. (After all, I do have the audacity to call some people bad parents.)

A good father simply needs two qualities: first, they have to care about being a father; they have to care about their child and want to be a good father. Because, obviously, if you don't care about your child or your role in their life, you're never going to be good at parenting. Second, you need to have good judgment. No parent knows what they are doing...it's all guesswork. For example, at three weeks, when the baby is crying at 2am and they won't stop, do you give them a binky? Some say yes, as it soothes them and encourages a regular sleep pattern. Some say no, as it will get them addicted and screw up their teeth. I've got a view on the subject; but neither answer is correct. But, to be a good parent, you need to consider the issue and come to a decision based on what you think will ultimately be better for your child. And that really is the best you can do.

Of course, what do I know, I've only been doing this for sixteen months. And, believe me, I'm not saying I'm a good parent...I'd like to think I am, as I know I have the first quality, and think I have the second.

But, then again, this is coming from a guy who lets Bud watch an Elmo DVD regularly...and we all know what doctors say about watching TV before age 2!

P.S. New quote on the sidebar. Also, check out "Life After People" on the History Channel.

My Name a' Bud-orat

2008-01-21T00:36:00.000-05:00

I don't know who taught her the word "nice", but she's using it to describe just about everything, and she sounds just like Borat..."Niiiiiice!" This is my friend Azamat Elmo...

P.S. Who'da thought Bud would be so dead on with her sports pics? She's coming with me to Vegas next time I'm out that way!! (Although, I thought for a moment there we were on the verge of the next Ray Finkle! Laces Out!)

Bud's Weekend Football Pics

2008-01-19T11:16:00.000-05:00

Last Sunday, during the Giants-Cowboys game, Bud (after being prompted to do so about twenty minutes earlier) reached her hands up into the air and yelled "Tud-don!" Close, but there was a flag on that particular play. And the ball was nowhere near the end-zone. But, to be fair, I think it will be a while before Bud says "False Start. Offense. Five Yard Penalty."

Anyway, in honor of the new essential vocabulary word, I give you Bud's pics for this weekend.

In the professional football contest where the Giants of New York will take on the Packers of Green Bay.

The Giants will triumph by kicking an oblong ball made of pigskin through a big "H", and it will be a most ripping victory.

New England Closest Thing In Football to the Red Sox vs. the San Diego Chargers.

Too many disappointed games rooting against New England. Going to go with the Patriots on this one, but I think San Diego will cover. (Spread as of now is 14.)

And, there you have it...if you are so inclined to go with the picks of a one-year-old, I'm glad Bud can be of service.

A Very Special Newdaddy

2008-01-16T20:15:00.000-05:00

Today marks two significant events in my journey through fatherhood. First, this is my two-hundredth post. I know, I've been a bit of a slacker lately; I was gently reminded today by an unnamed reader who asked: "What's going on with my niece; I can't seem to find out from your blog!" (I may have taken a bit of creative license with the quote...which calls into question why I felt the need to italicize it, but, whatever, you get the idea.) The drop-off in posting comes primarily because my commute has lengthened since the move. I am now one of those guys who stands outside waiting for the train, alternating between looking at his watch and down the track, every so often switching to his blackberry and letting out an annoyed sigh. Yes, it's true, I am turning into that guy: I even say things like, "The Journal had an interesting article about front-running today." (Which, by the way, it did, earlier in the week.) Thank G-d for Bud; she allows me to temper such statements with "no, no, no, candles are not for eating!" (Are they?)

So, I get home later, and I'm tired-er, and, well, I'm getting lazy. But, don't worry...I'll put in a conscious effort to ramp back up.

The second: well, Bud said "I love you" for the first time. And I am going to pretend it was to me and she intended to say it. I'd say there's a 50/50 chance of that being true. She has been pretty good at the "fill-in-the-blank" game with songs, I will sing part of the song and leave out the last word, which she will fill in (or something that sounds like it). Lately, I've been doing that with "Love Me Do." Love, Love me.....do. You know....I'ya'you. Out of nowhere, today she looked at me and said "I'ya'you." Maybe she was remembering the song.

Or maybe, just maybe, she was respecting the fatherhood skill of Newdaddy. Happy 200 posts.

Play That Funky Music 1-Year-Old

2008-01-08T20:24:00.000-05:00

Newmommy pointed out that I am way too into Bud's toys. I didn't hear her, as I was trying too hard to figure out how to play "Alex F" on the xylophone. (I have already mastered "Ridin' Dirty"). I guess she's right, but in my defense, Bud has got some cool toys.

The instruments do me in immediately. I never thought I had a musical side: I played the trombone briefly in middle school, although lugging that thing around became somewhat of a liability, especially on bus rides. I also wasn't very good. The next closest thing to a musical instrument was a DJ setup in college, although that hardly counts. So, you can imagine my surprise seeing myself go right for Bud's drumsticks and trying to bang out "Wipeout" on her letters-and-numbers-foam floor. It's fun, because Bud will jam with me. You haven't heard music until you've heard a sixteen-month old (!!) rock out on a bumble bee-shaped maraca.

Bud's into music too. "Mu-gick On. Mu-gick On." On the low end of the tolerance spectrum is Elmo-music (he speaks with improper grammar, people!). Although, Bud loves it, so naturally, it is an essential part of our collection. Sesame Babies is next, semi-tolerable in small doses. Then comes the tolerable Laurie Berkner, who gets regular play in our house and car primarily because her stuff is catchy as hell.

And then there are those infrequent wonderful times where Bud gets her groove on to my ipod.

P.S. Newmommy reports 8 unassisted steps, followed by 10 unassisted steps. I think Bud may have walked today too (rim shot...)

And now...a guest post from Newaunt

2008-01-06T14:28:00.000-05:00

The following is from an e-mail Newaunt (or as Bud calls her...Ah-tee) sent to some of her friends, updating them about Bud's recent escapades. I'm posting this, as I think it would be interesting to get someone else's perspective up here, and, well, I am busy watching the NFL playoffs today and am too lazy to post something. Here you go....

"I spent Christmas with Newmommy, Newdaddy, and Bud. When Newmommy fed Bud Spaghetti O's (which they call pasta soup, or as Bud says "poop"), Bud kept saying "macaroo" (macaroni). Newmommy kept correcting Bud as she fed her to try to get her to acknowledge that it was soup or Spaghetti O's, and not macaroni. Bud knows the difference between tortellini ("lini") and macaroni, so Newmommy thought Bud would quickly master this.

However, Bud continued to say macaroo. After a while Bud looked at Newmommy and said "maracoo keys" (macaroni & cheese). Newmommy said, "Do you want macaroni & cheese?" Bud's eyes lit up and she said "Yeth! Puleeze!" 15 months old and not only does she request specific foods, but she asks nicely.

After dinner, Bud said, "Lap, story." Newmommy put Bud in her lap and said, "Which story would you like, Elmo, Numbers, Quiet Loud, or Blankie (all books that Bud has heard a million times). Newmommy waited a few seconds and Bud stated "Elmo." The girl knows what she wants!"

Yes, it's true. Bud now says "please", "toomi" (which I think is 'excuse me,' as it's used in proper context), and I could have sworn she said "bless you" when I coughed yesterday, although I'm not sure about that one.

Three Unassisted Steps

2008-01-01T22:27:00.000-05:00

Well, that didn't take long. It was only a few days ago I was pondering whether '08 would bring Bud's first steps and, about sixteen hours into the new year, it turned out to be true. Bud took three unassisted steps from her toy kitchen to me.

I'm recovering from last night, so I am a little short on witty remarks. I'm sure I'll think of something as soon as I hit 'publish.'

Happy New Year everyone!!

Merry New Year!!

2007-12-30T21:20:00.000-05:00

I came really close to posting this again. I haven't had a new year since '84 where that wasn't the first thing I heard...

Thanks for joining me on the parenting journey this year. It's been a wild one...at this time last year, Bud wasn't even rolling over, and today, for the first time she said "I love you." I can't wait to see what '08 brings. Walking? Swimming? An enjoyable baseball season? (If I have to deal with the nonsense of '07's first-half and postseason, I may have to switch over to some other sport...) We shall see.

I leave you with a New Year's wish from a celebrity from whom we didn't hear so much this year...but who was the inspiration behind me purchasing my first camera phone (I saw her drunk at a restaurant once, and promised myself never to be without a camera again)...Tara Reid...MERRY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!

How is a daddy of a one-year-old like a GPS system fitted with Bluetooth?

2007-12-29T11:17:00.000-05:00

We are both designed to accept simple voice commands.

Bud has crossed the line in verbal development where words go from identification: "mommy," "daddy," "chair," "binky," "Elmo" to orders. The other night we were doing the "night routine" when Bud orders "milk." "Milk, milk, milk!" So, I gave her some milk, she turns to me and says "Daddy! Up!" So, I pick her up. "Dans..." So, we dance. I put her down for her to drink more milk, and Bud declares "no, no, no!" "Up. Dans."

Other commands include: eat! binky! Elmo, Teddy, etc....as in, give me Elmo, Teddy, etc. And, of course, there are the food orders: cookie! pa-ta (pasta)! lini (tortellini)! poop (soup)!

The scariest word, of course, is "no." I've been warned about that...

WHEW!!

2007-12-26T07:24:00.000-05:00

I liked the Simpsons Movie...what a relief! I don't need to be fitted for my Lifealert bracelet yet.

By the way- have you seen recent Lifealert commercials? Their slogan is actually "I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up!" (What the lady screams in the early-nineties commercial.)

That's almost as bad as NJ Transit's slogan: "We're all in this together." In other words "Yeah, I know it sucks, but we think it sucks too..."

What are you in for? Climbing into a drawer.

2007-12-25T20:34:00.000-05:00

Last week, I think it was Thursday, Newmommy unleashed the long arm of the parental law and handed down Bud's first ever "punishment." She was given a one-minute "time-out," but was let out twenty seconds early for good behavior. For those of you who aren't familiar with "time-out," it's basically sitting in a corner until the clock runs out. It's sort of like being put in the penalty box in hockey, with about the same amount of teeth. No, we did not make her wear a dunce cap.

Bud received her punishment for climbing into the drawer in our coffee table, after she was told not to. She tried to do this again, and I really felt "parental" explaining that "people don't go in drawers, drawers are for books and clothes."

(See the new feature in the sidebar...I'm going to start adding quotes...)

Superbad Is

2007-12-23T17:39:00.000-05:00

As a semi-new parent, I don't get to the movies very often. Because the frequency of my social life and I getting together has decreased since the birth of Bud, when I do get to go out, I prefer to "rock out" a bit more than sitting in a theater. So, today, I officially became the last person in the United States between the ages of 15 and 45 to see the movie "Superbad."

I wanted to like this movie. For one, everyone I knew who recommended it loved it, so not liking it would make me somewhat of an freak. Also, it's been a while since there was a movie in the same vein as "The Forty Year Old Virgin," "Wedding Crashers" and "Not Another Teen Movie," so I was really hoping to have another great comedy to put in the category.

I'm sorry, world. I just didn't get it. I was pretty bored. McLovin...OK, that's a good bit, but I just could not get into this movie.

True, I didn't like "Napoleon Dynamite" the first time I saw it either. I thought it was pretty stupid. But the next day, I saw myself quoting it, re-watched it, and was able to appreciate it for what it is. I doubt that will happen with this movie.

The problem is, for a guy who spent college addicted to the Simpsons, South Park, with the scripts to Fletch, Revenge of the Nerds and Happy Gilmore memorized, I am supposed to like this movie. And, that's what bothers me. Have I become old, and can no longer appreciate this type of humor? Am I now "out of the club?" Is Bud going to show me a movie she loves in a few years, and I just won't "get it?" Is it true, "Parents Just Don't Understand?"

And what the hell is "High School Musical" anyway; and who is Hannah Montana?

When Eric Cartman met the Thompsons, a lovely couple who had asses where their faces should have been (and could not eat chili because it made them throw up), Eric didn't think it was funny, and thought he blew a "funny fuse." Perhaps I did just that. Or, perhaps I have crossed an unwritten line...like when you begin to prefer VH1 over MTV.

I am really, really scared to watch the Simpsons Movie. If I don't like it, I can see the young side of me being really upset at me now...like some sort of twisted Shredded Wheat commercial.

More Fun With Google Analytics

2007-12-15T16:46:00.001-05:00

Bud's sleeping, so let's take a look at some more exits on the information superhighway that lead you here...

1. "Diapers for a Bad Report Card." I'm no educator, but I believe there are other ways to get your kid's grades up.

2. "Medical Word of Shit." I pride myself on high quality, educational content.

3. "Toilet Humor." Ditto.

4. "My Milkshake Brings All the Little Boys to the Yard." Little boys? Which yard- remind me to avoid that one! (See also "What is a woman's milkshake?" Good question.)

5. "I blame the cavity creeps." We...make...holes in teeth.....we....make...holes in teeth.

Happy Hakaka

2007-12-13T21:21:00.001-05:00

...as Bud would say. Pictured on the right is Bud's "nora." (It was an easy word for her because it rhymes with "Dora.")

P.S. I realize Hanukkah is over, but if Christmas can start in early November, surely I can post a Hanukkah post the day after the holiday ended.

Bud's First Sentence

2007-12-10T21:25:00.001-05:00

"How are you?"

Bud uttered her first sentence today. I don't think she was actually asking me how I was, but merely repeating what Newmommy says when she picks up Bud's play-phone: "Hello? Hi! How are you? Good..." Until now, she made it only through the second word. Now, I have a true conversationalist.

I had hopes for her first sentence...something like "Daddy, I've already made some $200k in the market, no need to save for my college education," or "What the hell do you mean Joe Torre isn't coming back next year?" or even "I'll have the spicy maki combo." Oh well, I'll take what I can get.

While with Newmommy's parents over the weekend, she was given a bowl of soup. When Newnana tried to take it away from her, she protested...although she didn't get the word quite right...."Poop! Poop!" Soup/poop, close enough.

Taking the World By Land and Sea

2007-12-04T20:45:00.000-05:00

Wait...did I just quote "The Breakup?" Yeah, it's a chick flick, but it's got some funny bits- so BACK OFF!!

I think it's amazing that in the course of four days, Bud began learning to both walk and swim.

First, walking. Over the weekend she, for the first time, allowed us to hold her hands while she walked with our support. When they say in the various credit card commercials "Your Baby's First Step," do they mean assisted or unassisted? In any event, I can hear Five for Fighting in the background..."I'm fifteen for a moment..."

Second, swimming. We began lessons on Sunday. Technically, it's a "Mommy and Me", but there were no mommys in the pool...this is definitely a daddy thing. She seemed to like it...I'm not sure if she was kicking because she was swimming, or because she kicks all the time. Again, I'm not sure what the Official Child Milestone book considers swimming, so I'm going to score it as a "yes."

Next week, I'm going to teach her how to convert a 7-10 split.

Gotta Watch Out for those Pumas

2007-12-01T16:14:00.000-05:00

I had drinks a few nights ago with a bunch of fellow Jerseyites, all of whom have three- or four-year-olds. One of the fathers told me that, every night, he has to "check" to make sure that his daughter's room is clear of all of the things she's afraid of...

"Did you check for monsters?", she asks.

"Yes, I did," replies daddy.

"What about ghosts?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"What about pumas?," she asks.

"Pumas? Where did you hear about pumas?", asks the father.

"Diego."

Friggin' Diego...scaring kids like that. I didn't realize that pumas were indigenous to this area of New Jersey! I wish I knew that before I moved here. It wasn't in the brochure.

That's about as likely as me playing by someone else's rules besides my own. Which I would never do. I play by my own rules..

2007-11-30T20:52:00.000-05:00

"...nobody else's...not even my own."

When I started this blog, I had a couple of guidelines for myself. First, I wouldn't turn this into a mushy, lovey-dovey, "look-my-kid-spit-up" minute-by-minute update on Bud's life.

Second, I was only going to post when I had something to write about. I wasn't going to do this every day, every other day, etc...I was only going to speak when I had something to say.

And that's why your humble narrator has been MIA this month...aside from the vacation situation and the thanksgiving stuff, the only thing I have to report is a laundry list of really cute things that my daughter has done. But you probably don't want to hear that...

Well, too bad...I'm breaking my rules today. I'm a rebel, my friends:

Every morning, the first thing she says to Newmommy and me is "Binky." But, with one in her mouth so it sounds more like "Biikii." And, aside from the one in her mouth, she's got one in each hand. Multitasking at such a young age...
She knows what animals say: pig, horse, dog, sheep, cow, cat, and my favorite...monkey. See tickles herself and goes "ooo, ooo."
She hasn't quite gotten "rooster": cock-a-doo-loo.
She's not counting, nor does she know the alphabet yet, but she's started in the middle: she knows the number three and the letter "P." One, two....three!!
Ask her a "who is the .... in the world ?" question and she's say, "MEEE!" (In fact, I sang her the "Wally World National Anthem," and when I got to "Who's the star of our favorite show?" she replied, "MEEE!!"
She rocks out...when she hears a song she likes, she'll get on her knees, throw her hands in the air, and bounce up and down. Rock on.
She brushes her teeth. It's never too early to begin good oral hygiene habits, folks.

That's enough for now. Sorry for the lame month of posting, everyone. Hopefully, in December, I'll be able to b-ring it. (It's already been b-rought-ed).

I.O.L. in Every Room

2007-11-23T09:32:00.000-05:00

Bud has mastered a skill: turning lights on and off. We hold her up to a light switch and she flicks on the light, proudly declaring, in an almost biblical way "liiiight!" And, then she turns the light off. And, in true fourteen-month-old fashion, she repeats the exercise about ten times until we pull her away.

(And, yes, I quoted "Arthur II: On the Rocks" for this post. For those of you who did not have HBO throughout the nineties...IOL stands for "Instant On Lighting.")

I will forgo the "enjoy your turkey sandwich/leftovers" jokes, but will relay a funny story from last night's dinner. Grandma brought Bud an Elmo cupcake for dessert, which she managed to get all over her clothing, hair, face, the floor, etc. We all watched and laughed. (Far be it from us to focus on anything other than Bud during a family function!) Newaunt says, "this is the best entertainment ever!" Bud looks up, pats herself on the chest with both hands and yells "MEEEEEE!!!!" Exactly.

Whateva!!

2007-11-17T11:12:00.000-05:00

It's been a while since I posted a "cute kid video." Not sure if this is cute or annoying...you be the judge!

P.S. Bud's now cruising...she'll pull herself up on a piece of furniture, and walk across the side using the furniture as support. I imagine walking is any day now...

Language Lessons

2007-11-12T20:21:00.000-05:00

Monique: "...instead he uses it as a chance to put his testicles all over me."
Lane Meyer: "TENTACLES...N, T....there's a big difference."

- From "Better Off Dead"

Bud has quite the vocabulary, with such new words as "ball," "open," and "car." (Not to mention "Laurie", as in Laurie Berkner.) Bud's words generally come in two categories: words that are clearly the word she's trying to say (like "key" and "dada"), and those which are close and consistent (such as "pa-peh" for pancake and "ba-bay-bee" for strawberry). Her newest one, however, is DVD, which she loving calls a "VD." It's going to be a while before she appreciates the difference, and I wonder if, by the time she learns what VD actually means, DVDs will even be around. "VD!" "VD!" No, really, you don't want that.

Reunited (and it feels so good)

2007-11-11T12:41:00.000-05:00

Newnana and Newgrampy pull up to our house at about 10:30am with Bud in the car. After not seeing her for about six days now, Newmommy and I run down the stairs, trying to get an edge on the other so we could see her first. It was like being on a second-grade lunch line. We had obviously not seen the grandparents either, but we nearly knocked them over on our way to see Bud. (Out of my way, whoever you are...)

Bud looks different. She's grown so much in a week. She also looks congested and uncomfortable. But, she looks at me and says "dada." No, she did not forget about me! Woohoo.

The next week was difficult, and the reason, we ultimately found out, was that she had Roseola. Which is ~~like penne except longer~~ something kids get, which starts as a +103 fever, and ends with a body rash. Finding out that news actually put us a ease, as its a common sickness that goes away, but until we found out what it was, Bud just wasn't herself. Yes, she was sick. Yes, we were in a new house. Yes, we had been gone and now we're back and she's probably confused. Lots was going on. Yet, it was hard not to think that we somehow upset her, and she was holding it against us.

Luckily, as soon as the rash went away, she was back to smiles, strawberries and her obsession with Laurie Berkner.

Vacation Days 4 & 5: Sick & Sicker

2007-11-04T10:43:00.000-05:00

Vacation Day 4 was more of the same: chillaxin' in the sun with the occasional (ok, more than just 'occasional') Belashi...which is Aruban for beer. (Apparently, they don't have a website, and apparently "Belashi" is also a town in Kazakhstan. Yegshemesh!)

Vacation Night 4 was game four of the MLB World Series. I don't need to recap the tragic events, but lets just say the eight inning marked a true low for Yankees fans. As we were watching the giant World Series foot heading in slow motion toward our collective left nut, A-Rob/Scott Boras gave us a quick shot to the right one. We're going to need an icepack the size of the Bronx to get us through the very, very long winter.

And then, on day five, we got the real bad news: Bud has a fever. (Yes, I do have some perspective). We found out in the early evening and were set to fly home the next day, so an earlier flight would not have made much of a difference. Still, we were in Aruba and wanted nothing more than to hop a flight and take care of Bud. We both felt trapped. What's more, we've been, so far, really lucky, and Bud has not yet had a fever...and this one topped 103, so needless to say, we really wanted to get home.

The flights from Aruba to Newark (via San Juan) are somewhere around 5 hours total; but it felt like a week. The last time I was on a Caribbean flight that felt that long, it was because the movie was "Rumor Has It." Ugghh....

Vacation Days 2 & 3: What I Did on Bud-cation

2007-11-01T20:04:00.000-05:00

"I did absolutely nothing, and it was everything I thought it could be." - Peter Gibbons, Office Space

Not exactly, although I did log quite a few hours sitting on the beach drinking fruity umbrella drinks and chasing invisible penguins. Not, wait, scratch the penguins, although I did have a few "Aruba Arribas" while reading "The Year of Living Biblically" by A.J. Jacobs, a self-described Jew who is as Jewish as "the Olive Garden is an Italian Restaurant." The author spends a year living the bible as literally as possible: it's a good read, and I liked it especially for the daddying stories.

I also embarked on a jeep tour of Aruba. Newmommy and I rented a jeep and caravaned with a group around the island. Behold: one of the less than 2% of pics on my hard drive that does not include Bud or a pregnant Newmommy (and, I realize I am breaking the promise that I would not "post pictures from my off-road jeep tour"...well, too bad...also, I realize there IS a road in this picture...it was the beginning part of the tour):

Of course, our battery died and we needed a new jeep. And the "Natural Bridge," one of the major sights of the island, collapsed two years ago. And, we lost the Brazilian family about halfway through (which, according to our tour guide was typical of Brazilian tourists to Aruba- go figure).

What else did I do...hmm, let's see...aside from getting kicked in the jewels in the casino? I watched some crappy baseball game.

All in all, it was a fun time. And, the reports from Bud: she was laughing, smiling, eating ice cream, going on carousels...I was beginning to worry that she was having so much fun with the Grandparents Committee that she would want nothing of Newmommy and I!

Vacation Day 1: Why you goin' to the airport? Flying Somewhere?

2007-10-31T16:43:00.000-05:00

As promised:

We woke up at 5am to make our way to Newark Airport. Already, I am feeling anxious and questioning whether or not going on this trip is a good idea. This I think was brought on not only because we were going without Bud, but also because we were simply getting on a plane. See, sometime around 1999/2000, I developed a fear of flying. It didn't make sense, as I was a pretty regular flier averaging about 4-10 flights per year since my freshman year of high school. One day, it just came on. It wasn't so much of a fear that would keep me from my normal routine and planned trips, more of a dread that had me preoccupied for days prior to a flight. A trip to Europe in August of 2001 almost managed to break that fear; unfortunately my return flight on September 11 from London was turned around halfway across the Atlantic. That managed to set me back. It wasn't until a trip to Vegas for a bachelor party two years later that I realized I was pretty much over the fear.

While reading various 'fear of flying' books to help me understand why suddenly and for no apparent reason this fear developed, I came across a passage that suggested that new parents often develop fears of flying because they fear what consequences may befall their child should something go wrong on their flight. (That, of course, didn't answer my question, as I was not even married at the time, let alone a father). Although I didn't welcome back the full fear that I carried with me years ago, that thought definitely stayed with me until we touched down safely in Aruba.

Weed helped. More, accurately, I should say "Weeds" (the television show) helped; the first season of which I downloaded onto my iPod for the trip, at the suggestion of many. You were all correct: it's a great show. [Insert your best "Bud" pun here.]

Before dinner that evening we did our "call-in" at Newnana & Newgrampy's, who took the first babysitting shift. Bud got on the phone with a big "Da Da Da!" She didn't forget me. Yet.

Newmommy and I hit a sushi bar for dinner, and we ran into someone with whom I went to high school (although I don't remember him -- nor did he remember me.) Of course, he was with his wife and his eleven-month-old. Fantastic, these people found a way to bring their child on their trip, why couldn't I?

On the bright side: we had a great meal, and a fun night out without worrying about bathtimes, bedtimes or babysitters. Plus, I got some much-needed time alone with Newmommy. On the downside: well, I'm still missing my little girl, and battling the bad-father complex. And, on the really downside, the Red Sox just went ahead 2-0.

Bad Parenting: Me?

2007-10-30T22:34:00.000-05:00

I neglected to mention in my previous posts that at the conclusion of our move, Newmommy and I went away for four days to Aruba to celebrate our wedding anniversary. It was a long-planned vacation that just ended up coinciding with our house closing.

It was also the first time we were away from Bud for that long. We had previous done one- and two-night getaways, but never a true leave-the-country vacation. So, naturally, as the months and weeks lead up to our departure, the question of whether or not this was "Bad Parenting" hit me pretty hard.

Very few people I know have left a less-than-two-year-old for five nights; but then again, Newmommy and I are in a unique position of having two local and extremely willing sets of babysitter-grandparents (not to mention a local aunt), so perhaps the trend is not a good indicator of whether or not I'm just a bad parent. What did bother me was the look on Bud's face when Newmommy and I came back from our first weekend away from her: the blank "I don't know you" stare. Heartbreaking. And the vision repeated on me while I determined whether or not to go. Still, I thought, that took no more than a few hours to fade away.

I managed to convince myself that going away was the right thing to do. Not only did it give me the opportunity to spend five days alone with Newmommy (which we hadn't done since September 2006, and even longer if you count little miss Kicky McKickstein in Newmommy's belly...), it gave Bud the opportunity to develop relationships with her grandparents without me and my wife hovering and criticizing their baby-tending abilities. Plus, it develops trust...Bud may get upset that mommy and daddy leave, but at least she'll understand that we come back. It also helps her develop some independence.

All good arguments which didn't do much for me dreading leaving my little girl. That's not to say I didn't have a good time...I definitely enjoyed (and needed) the time with my other girl. It's just hard not to think that, despite all of my PhD-level child psychology arguments, I'm not a bad dad for leaving my little girl for almost a week.

So, we will see how she reacts tomorrow morning, when Newnana and Newgrampy return with the princess. And, over the next few days, I will give you an even more in-depth look at Newdaddy's vacation. Don't worry...I am not posting my pictures from the off-road jeep tour; just focusing on the daddying topics.

(P.S. Another added bonus of the Aruba vacation was to be out of the country and, what I thought, out of the reach of major league baseball, during a time that I had a sneaking suspicion would not be good for the Yanks. Boy, was I wrong. If I didn't know better, I would have thought that our hotel was hosting an over-fifty-Red Sox fan retreat.)

DJ Newdaddy (or, Newdaddy Takes Requests)

2007-10-22T12:39:00.001-05:00

Yes, I realize that I've used this title before. Originality: zero.

Parents of thirteen month-olds need to take on many jobs: doctor, psychologist, safety monitor (although I don't think you can get a degree in that), teacher. I never thought "disk jockey" would be on that list, but apparently it is.

Bud loves "Twinkle, Twinkle" and "The Itsy Bitsy Spider." Whenever she wants us to sing the song, she'll do the hand motion. For those of you who were not born in the teach-kids-sign language age, the hand motion to Twinkle is opening and closing your hands. Or, at least I am assuming that is an accepted sign, because I didn't teach Bud that, and I don't think Newmommy did either. Nor the "Itsy Bitsy Spider." Yet, whenever she does the hand motion, and we respond with the appropriate song, she laughs with delight. Nice.

It's getting a bit repetitive. Bud makes the sign, I sing the song, Bud laughs, claps, and then repeats the hand motion. So, the song is sung over and over and over. Of course, I'm not one to talk about repetition: I've seen "Fletch" probably over one hundred times. "Cavanaugh? Is that Morris or Pierre?"

Oh, and she learned how to turn on the TV today. I don't know if that's good or bad. She crawled to the TV, stood up holding the entertainment unit, and hit the power button. At least she knows that the remote is not a toy for girls!

'Cause We're the Griswalds!!

2007-10-20T21:30:00.000-05:00

I am officially a suburbanite.

For those of you who don't know Jersey and only picture one giant suburb plus Newark, you've probably already pegged me as a suburbanite. However, my former home was so close to Manhattan on the Jersey side, that I was almost as much of a New Yorker as a resident of the outer bouroughs. No, I could not order Malaysian food at 3am as I was able to (and did) back in my Manhattan days, but my commute to midtown was under an hour. No more.

I am now sitting in my new home office in my new home deep in suburban New Jersey. Let me give you a taste: our closing was Thursday afternoon. Last night (Friday), our next door neighbors officially welcomed us to the neighborhood with an apple pie. That just does not happen in Manhattan.

Bud's been pretty confused, although I think she's starting to get comfortable. Her room looks almost the same as her old room; but I'm sure she notices the different sounds, smells and feels of the new house. Also, Newmommy and I, taking poor advice from a professional babyproofer (more on that to come...) removed the bumpers from Bud's crib, making her first night in a strange place even more difficult. The bumpers are back in. She's looking around a lot, she seems very interested in her surroundings and, with the added space of the new house, we're able to designate a playroom for her, which she's beginning to take to.

Oh, and we're now a two-car family, with the second car being an (ugh...) SUV. It's really Newmommy's car. Nevertheless, I think there's now no doubt that I am a true suburbanite having the ol' Family Truckster. (Don't worry, I did not get it in metallic pea.)

My Kid's Cuter Than Your Kid

2007-10-15T19:35:00.000-05:00

Parents: does everyone think that their kid is genuinely unique and cuter than every other kid out there? I think that about Bud, but I'm sure every parent feels this way. But Bud is really, really cute. Check this out:

Yesterday, she was crying at the playground, so to calm her down I gave her my keys. She immediately got a huge smile on her face, and, for the next fifteen minutes, talked (babbled) to the keys and repeated "keeeeeeyyyyyy."
She also started saying "me" this week. Actually it's more like "me, me, me." I said, "who has the best daddy in the world?" She responded, "me, me, me!" How could you NOT love that?
She's a little scared of her "Baby Tad," this frog that sings songs. But, she loves the songs (and, in the age of "Music Together" and the Laurie Berkner Band, I'm glad they are the classics..."Itsy, Bitsy Spider" and "Twinkle, Twinkle.") Whenever I play the songs, she laughs, and climbs into my lap. (She also knows the hand motions to those songs...I didn't teach her, Newmommy didn't teach her....where the hell did she learn them?)
Right now, she is on the baby monitor calling to me to play: "Dada! Dada!" Go to sleep! (But, it's so damn cute.)

As I read this, I realize there is nothing highly unusual or un-thirteen-months-old-ish on here, but, I really do think she's the cutest kid in the world. I know it can't really be true, but, at the same time, I really think it is.

OK, enough with the puppydogs and ice cream.

The move is this week, and as soon as I hit "Publish Post" and watch this stupid video (to which, for some reason, I am addicted) one more time (yes, it's stupid...but, as the person who sent it to me said- watch it twice through), I am going to unplug my computer and pack it up. That means no posting until the weekend. Ohhh nooo!!

And Now Back to your Regularly Scheduled Blog

2007-10-09T19:30:00.001-05:00

And, just like that, the baseball season is over. All I can say about the 2007 ALDS is: Ow My Balls! Well, in the immortal words of the Dalai Lama, right after losing his golfball into a ten-thousand foot crevasse, "Goonga L'goonga."

We now return to your regularly scheduled blog.

Sunday Morning Potpourri

2007-10-07T10:19:00.000-05:00

I hear the criticisms that lately I have turned the focus of this blog away from daddying and towards the recent sporting tournament that has been going on. So, for those who need their fill of parenting thoughts, here you go:

Nothing is gradual. Non-parents sometimes make fun of those parents who follow their kid around with a camera all the time. The reason they do that is, for at least the first thirteen months of a kid's life, a major breakthrough can happen at any minute. For the longest time, Bud did not crawl. Then, within the course of less than two months, she crawled, speed-crawled, stood and climbed up the stairs!
Word of the Day: Key. Whenever Bud sees a key, she says "Keeeeey."
You know your life is over when...it's 8:55am on a Sunday, you've already had breakfast, and you're on your way to Home Depot to buy towel rods. We may go to Bed, Bath and Beyond later, I don't know if we'll have enough time...

An Open Letter

2007-10-06T20:05:00.000-05:00

To Johnny Damon (1 for 9), Derek Jeter (1 for 8), Robinson Cano (1 for 7), Hideki Matsui (0 for 7), Jorge Posada (0 for 7) and A-Rod (0 for 6):

Visit Beautiful Cleveland

2007-10-05T22:14:00.001-05:00

Sour grapes? You betcha! Two games in a row we got the ol' Cleveland steamroll...

When is a Baby not a Baby? When she's a Toddler

2007-10-04T18:33:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I asked, "at what point is [Bud] no longer "Baby Bud" and "Little Girl Bud?" (In retrospect, I realize that the grammar is incorrect, but how many English teachers out there are reading this?) The question is: when does a baby become a not-baby?

Today, I got my answer from my weekly e-mail from Babycenter, which was titled, for the first time "Your Toddler This Week." Previously, it was "Your Baby This Week."

And, as we know, the internets is never wrong.

So, there you have it. Bud is a toddler. And I am old.

When is a Baby not a Baby?

2007-10-03T19:03:00.001-05:00

As I watched my almost-thirteen-month-old climb up a set of stairs today (which she did for the first time while I was at work), I was struck by how non-baby like she is. She's got a full head of hair with curls in the back, she was wearing jeans, she is really communicating with us...at what point is she no longer "Baby Bud" and "Little Girl Bud?"

Some thoughts, none of which I really like:

When she walks
When she speaks sentences. (Or, when she asks a question)
When she says 'no'
When she releases her first album
When she is 1 (or 2, or some other chronological milestone)
When she starts school

Any thoughts? (And, if she is no longer "Baby Bud", is it fair for me to still be "Newdaddy"?)

Oh, and when is a Yankee Fan not a Yankee Fan? Tonight? Here's my question: who do you root for in the Red Sox - Angels series? With the terrible track record (not to mention post-season track record) the Yankees have against the Angels, we'd probably rather see Boston next week than L.A. Also, if the Yankees and Red Sox meet up in the ALCS, we can avenge the tragic events of 2004.

On the other hand, what self-respecting Yankee Fan roots for the Red Sox under any circumstances? Plus, and I hate myself for saying this, what if the ALCS is New York/Boston, and it turns into a trainwreck-a-la-'04? Yikes.

Finally, and I'll write more about this in the coming weeks, the Newfamily is moving! The move is going to be in a few weeks. Don't worry Garden State, we're staying within the Jersey borders...however, Bud and her accessories take up a tremendous amount of space...and we need space.

I Gave My Love a Cherry...

2007-09-30T21:39:00.000-05:00

Bud is very much into her "Music Together" class. The songs are oddly addictive. Prior to each session, participants are given a CD of that session's music selections. A first pass through the CD is fairly annoying, especially knowing that CD will be pretty much the only thing played in your car for the next three months. However, by the inevitable twenty-fifth time through, your musical sense will have turned into something similar to that of a one-year-old, and you'll see the CD much in the same way I saw "Paul's Boutique" my sophomore year of college. That, and, kids love the music...Bud immediately calms when the CD goes on, claps when her favorite songs end, and "demands" we sing them during feeding times.

The lyrics of some of the songs are a bit strange. For example:

Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been?/
I've been to London to visit the queen./
Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you there?/
I frightened a mouse from under her chair.

Don't get it. You would think Buckingham Palace would have pretty decent exterminators, no?

We got the new CD yesterday. Have you ever had a hysterical moment that no one is around to appreciate? I'm in the car with Bud, and all of a sudden "The Riddle Song" comes on!! I nearly lost it. You've heard the Riddle Song, but probably don't know it by name. It goes a little something like this...

It will be a while before Bud realizes why it's funny. And what a proud day that will be for daddy.

BOOOYAHH!!!

2007-09-26T20:31:00.001-05:00

(I know, it's loser talk not to post the AL East Champion T-Shirt as the Yanks are not out of the running yet. But, given the respective records of Cleveland and Los Angeles, I'd rather get the wild card, as I think the Yanks have a much better chance against the Indians. See, for example, 2002 and 2005).

I'm a Rock Star

2007-09-24T22:00:00.000-05:00

You know why I love being a daddy?

Every morning when I go into Bud's room, she gives me applause.

Every night when I get home from work, she screams "Da da da da da!"

I'm a rock star in my own home.

Three-Year-Old Games of the Twenty-First Century

2007-09-23T18:11:00.000-05:00

It's been a while since I was three years old; twenty-eight years, to be exact. And, in that time, kid's games have changed quite a bit. I was on the playground today with Bud, and noticed a three-year-old boy playing "Starbucks." Not tag, not kickball, not SPUD...not even house. He was playing Starbucks. In his defense, he was pretty good at it, he got his "customer" a half-caf-triple-skim-mocha-frap with two pumps of sugar-free vanilla. I don't even know what that is; so I'm not going to knock it.

P.S. This was not my first choice for a graphic. My first choice was a shot from that scene in Zoolander where they're all drinking Orange Mocha Frappuchinos and end up blowing themselves up at a gas station. My second choice was a scene from Austin Powers II where Dr. Evil is in his Starbucks tower. A quick Google search yielded nothing. I was too lazy to push further.

I'm Drinking Milk...and One Day I'll Be Big and Strong

2007-09-17T20:22:00.000-05:00

Remember those milk commercials from the '80s...a scrawny ten year-old nerd (read: me) talking to the would-be prom queen..."You may not think much of me now, but I'm drinking milk, and one day I'm gonna hit that." Well, it turns out those commercials were right. (No, I did not "tap" the prom queen...with my little Jew-fro.) Bud had milk for the first time today. And, later in the day, she pulled herself up to a stand for the first time.

Coincidence?

What Am I, Chopped Liver?

2007-09-15T18:26:00.000-05:00

Shana Tova (if applicable; if not, this is still a good story).

This was Bud's first Rosh Hashanah eating foods other than formula. During the holiday, we learned that our little one-year-old has the appetite of a Jewish grandmother. She devoured a plate of chopped liver...chopper liver! What one-year-old eats chopped liver? In all fairness, this particular liver is pretty epic. It comes from an old family recipe that's already in Bud's blood...she doesn't realize it yet; but she already knows how to make it! Each bite was followed by a loud "MMMM!!!" Also on the greatest hits lineup: noodle kugel.

Not so much on the gefilte fish. That made it onto the floor, along with the chicken.

Also, this weekend, Bud started repeating words that we say. She's starting with words like "car," and "bubble," and "banana." It's time for Newmommy and I to play the "watching what we say" game...you know, that annoying thing where parents s-p-e-l-l everything.

"Mrs. Flanders: Excuse me Edna, I don't think were talking about love here. We're talking about S-E-X. In front of the C-H-I-L-D-R-E-N."

"Krusty: Sex Cauldron! I thought they closed that place down."

Of Love and Nausea

2007-09-11T19:11:00.000-05:00

"There's a very fine line between love and nausea." - King Joffe Joffer, Ruler of Zamunda

Bud had her one-year checkup at the pediatrician yesterday, where she got four (!) shots. The doctor warned us that she may have a reaction to them; perhaps a rash, perhaps a fever.

She didn't mention projectile vomit.

Your humble narrator got home from work last night as Newmommy was feeding Bud. It seemed like a typical night. As I was changing, I hear the sound of disgust from Newmommy (albeit somewhat muted, for Bud's sake, of course). Bud had thrown up all over her, the glider and the carpet. And, I don't mean spit-up or "cheese." I mean chunky, recognizable-food-pieces, if-I-was-in-college-I-would-have-someone-hold-my-hair-back barf. I recognized her dinner, but could not place the large orange chunks. Newmommy explained, "that was the cantaloupe I fed her at lunch." Yuck, how long does it take to digest?

I decide the division of labor...Newmommy, you go clean yourself up, and then the chair and floor. I will clean up Bud and give her a (second) bath.

I chose poorly.

Just as I picked her up, she puked all over me! Either my baby eats more than anyone I know, or that throw-up contained some of the weekend's meals.

Baby throw up. Priceless.

P.S. When did they come out with the Chicken Pox vaccine? What's first grade going to be like without two-weeks of sitting in a bathtub of Calamine lotion?

HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY, BUD!

2007-09-08T07:20:00.001-05:00

Not-So Newdaddy

2007-09-07T22:53:00.000-05:00

[Note: my posts typically follow a logical line of reasoning in order to establish or discuss a single theme. In honor of my surviving my first year of fatherhood, I have decided to waive that rule for tonite. Thanks for indulging me.]

Today marks the last day of my first year as a father. The question that keeps running through my head is the same question that has been haunting me since one-year-ago tomorrow: am I a good father? It's a really tough question to answer; especially because the real tests probably have not hit me yet.

Fatherhood is a unique experience for which no one can prepare you. Sure, everyone can give you the same "warnings" (lack of sleep, diaper changes, etc.), and the typical "advice" (buy this stroller, use this magical product), but what nobody tells you is that none of that really matters. When I think back about the previous year; the sleepless nights, diaper changes, feedings, burpings, etc. are secondary to the major events: the first babble, the first crawl, the first word...even the time the little stinker broke my glasses. I doubt I will remember any one dirty diaper; but I remember hundreds of specific smiles.

(That's not exactly true, we were at the diner once and Bud decided it would be a good time to take a dump. She pushed and pushed, her face turned bright red and her eyes were tearing. It was as if she was passing a Toyota through her digestive system. I was terrified to change that diaper. When we opened it up; the poop was the size of a pea. I will never understand the physics of baby poop, but will always remember the "Princess and the Pea Poop.")

(Oh yeah, I probably will remember the dump she took on the way to Puerto Rico. Anyway, now that I've disproved my point....)

Bud turning one blows my mind. A buddy of mine said, "wow, one year old, that's, like, a real person." (I guess we know what his view on abortion is...)

And, while we're on the subject, where's this blog going after one year? I'm not sure, but I've received two comments that the baseball theme has overtaken the fatherhood theme. Here's my response to that: for a blog to be good, it's got to have a topic. Blogs that simply record a random person's thoughts are often times unreadable. However, good blogs are also ones that tell stories, and it's hard to tell interesting stories when you have no color on the characters. I am not "all-daddy." So, I'm going to throw in my other interests from time to time. Just be glad I don't bring up any work-related topics.

I'm going to go to bed now. One year ago tonight, I "slept" on the "cot" on the hospital floor. Tonight promises to be a lot more comfortable. Oh yeah, Newmommy's night will probably be a bit more comfortable, too.

The Cutting Room Floor

2007-09-05T19:38:00.000-05:00

I realize that it's been a while since my last post. I started this blog on the every-other-day cycle, and then switched over to the "whenever I have a ~~good~~ acceptable idea" cycle, because if I have to force one out; it's just not going to be that good.

I also realize that Bud's 1st birthday is Saturday, and I should have some sharable thoughts on the subject. I guess the story there is that it's a lot of pressure: how do I summarize my first year as a father? There just isn't a good enough YouTube video to accomplish that feat.

So, while this writer's block continues, I present below a list of posts that I started, but just wasn't Newdaddyworthy. Here we go:

(1) "I'm Not Cool Anymore": The story of how I went from semi-cool in the early part of this decade to not-so-cool now. I liked this post, because I regale the reader about how I used my "skills" to pick up Newmommy, but, in the end, it was too depressing to post.

(2) "My Super Sweet One": A list of rejected theme's for Bud's first birthday party. It just wasn't funny. (Hint: Hillary Clinton was the subject of one.)

(3) "Bottle for Daddy": I honestly don't remember where this was going...perhaps Daddy really did have a Bottle before he starting writing!

(4) "Hands up! Baby, Hands up!": When Bud lifted her hands in the air on cue, I wanted to write a post about it. But, I decided against it, because she didn't waive them around like she just didn't care.

(5) "Just Bring Me My Food": About overly child-friendly waitresses. I may pick this one up at some point.

My goal is to have something a bit more meaningful before Bud's birthday. If not, there's always next year!

How SWEEP it is!!!

2007-08-30T23:39:00.001-05:00

I don't know what it is, but something in me wants to post THIS picture:

Strange, huh? Don't you just love August baseball? I know, "but the Yanks are still 5 games out of the AL East." To that I say: before the A-Rod "Ha" incident, they were 14 1/2 out. Some might consider that a pretty sizable collapse of the first place team (whose name is escaping me at the moment).

2090!

You Gotta Have a Montage

2007-08-26T21:39:00.000-05:00

From the "Be Careful What You Wish For" files:

Two weeks ago, I announced that Bud started crawling. This chick is everywhere now! Big pile of toys in the bedroom? Forget it, let's go into mommy and daddy's bedroom...let's see what's in the kitchen. Oh, this drawer looks fun, let's open it. Watching her go from pretty much staying in one spot to spanning the length of my house over the course of only two weeks is like watching a montage from an '80s movie.

P.S. The Bad Parenting hit parade continued last night. Newgrandma and Newgrandpa watched Bud so that Newmommy and I could go to a comedy show. It was at the ~~Garden State~~ PNC Bank Arts Center, so naturally there was a lot of Jersey material. To truly round out a Jersey evening, we decided to do a midnight diner stop, complete with cheese fries and a chocolate milkshake. (Disco fries were considered, and rejected.) At the diner, we saw a woman holding and feeding a three-month-old. It drove Newmommy and I crazy. HEY! LADY!! Get that baby into a crib where he belongs!!

Not such a good story, I know, but I needed an excuse to mention the cheese fries.

P.P.S. Thanks, Seattle, for finally taking an "L" last night. Keep doing that. (I am not saying that I have given up on the AL East, but I am going to save my Boston-banter for the upcoming series.)

Keeehhhhh-chup!

2007-08-24T17:15:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago, we were at a BBQ, sitting on our blanket with a few other couples and their kids. Bud, having finished her dinner, notices that the two-year-old sitting next to her has got a big plate of food but, perhaps most intriguing, a giant glob of ketchup (catsup?). There's nothing more fun than putting your hand in a pile of ketchup right? So, she reaches for it.

Does the daddy of the two-year-old stop her? Of course, not. All this genius does is say, "Ketchup!!" Actually, it was more like "Keeeeeeehhhhhh-chup."

As I was washing the ketchup out of everything, I tried to come up with better reactions to seeing an eleven-month-old about to stick her hand in ketchup. Here's my list:

(1) Try to stop her arm. (I understand, some people are uncomfortable touching others' children, even in those circumstances...and I can respect that. However...)
(2) Move the plate away. (It was his kid's plate, so there is no excuse.)
(3) Try to distract her. (A father of a two-year-old has the experience in that department...at least put in some effort, man!)
(4) Anything. Get up, walk away, grab a beer, put on a clown suit, I don't care. But, don't encourage my daughter to grab ketchup!

Keeeeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhh-chup. I mean...come on!

Yankees 9, Detroit 3, Bad Parents 2: Oh Yeah...

2007-08-21T18:11:00.000-05:00

Forgot this gem:

After the chair-falling, beer-juggling incident, Mrs. Row M, about half-way down her third beer, said, "I feel so 'Unparently.'" No, it's not a word, but yes, it was dead-on.

Yankees 9, Detroit 3, Bad Parents 2

2007-08-20T19:49:00.000-05:00

With Newgrandma and Newgrandpa watching Bud, Newmommy and I climbed to Row N of the Tier Reserved section of Yankees Stadium yesterday, and watched the Bombers silence the Tigers 9-3. While Wang's pitching was uneventful, the young tag-team of Joba & Edwar pitched 3 perfect innings.
What made this victory so sweet was that the big "L" went to Bonderman. You remember Bonderman, right? More good news as we were leaving Yankee Stadium: the ~~California~~, ~~Los Angeles~~, ~~Anaheim~~, ~~Los Angeles of Anaheim~~....well, the West Coast Not Red Sox won, bringing the Yankees to within four of the AL East Crown. Stupid Seattle had to win and ruin my perfect day. Stupid day-ruiner.

Which brings me to Tier Reserved Row M, seats to two of the worst parents I have ever seen. Mr. & Mrs. Row M (and extended family) brought their adorable little three-year-old girl to see the game. Definitely a point in their favor. But, as an impartial ump...these parents are 0-1 in parenting in my book (big strikeout, definitely not 'looking'):

Strike One: letting the kid stand on her fold-down seat without supervision, leading to the inevitable fall and the even-more-inevitable giant bruise between the eyes.

Strike Two: waiting 1 1/3 innings to get up and get ice for the developing welt.

Strike Three: trying to carry out the kid in one hand, beer in the other.

The parents' combined beer total equaled the number of runs scored by the Yankees. That may have been acceptable in May, but not today.

P.S. Thank you Angels. You can stop winning now.

Babynames@Screwupyourkidslife.com

2007-08-16T19:03:00.000-05:00

Did you hear about the Chinese couple who tried to name their baby "@"? I'm not making this up! The couple meant well...the Chinese call the symbol "at" when its used in e-mail addresses (as is the case in English) and "ai ta" in Mandarin means "love him." But can you imagine the amount of spam that this kid's going to get??

[Feel free to insert whatever "where you at" joke you find most funny here...]

I like my idea better: auction the kid's name off. Before Bud was born, I had this idea to write to a number of major corporations, giving the right to name my child to the highest bidder. Think of it: "Continental Airlines Newfamily." Or "Coca-cola Newfamily." We're talking a whole lifetime's worth of publicity! Everywhere that kid went, he'd be a walking advertisement...it would be worth millions! Oh sure, it may screw the kid up for life, but certainly no more than naming the kid @! Also, the revenue would cover college. Plus, the kid would have first-hand experience in the field of marketing and advertising.

It didn't take Newmommy very long to drop the veto on that one.

Another Culinary Milestone

2007-08-14T19:52:00.000-05:00

Bud had her first big chewy pretzel....

...merjanthfgrr....five dollars? Get out of here!!

I call this "Garage of a One-Year Old"

2007-08-13T19:19:00.000-05:00

This is my garage...it once was the home to my car. It is now the home of my eleven-month-old's outgrown toys.

We Have a Crawler!

2007-08-12T09:43:00.000-05:00

Bud crawled for the first time today! Until now, she's gotten around by some kind of modified reach/roll maneuver, but today she full-on crawled across the kitchen floor. Over the last few weeks, she has been attempting to pull herself up on furniture to a stand position, and I thought she may be one of those babies who walks without crawling first. Guess not.

What was interesting was that she crawled the day after I removed the baby swing and bouncy-seat (both of which are outgrown...) from the kitchen. Maybe she needed the runway space!

Eww-yew Boo-boo Dew-dew

2007-08-11T21:48:00.000-05:00

I am not a dog person. Even before Newmommy got pregnant, I have been scheming my side of the "Can We Get a Dog, Daddy?" discussion so that the end result is not one where I pick up an animal's feces with a plastic bag. Honestly, do you see those doodie-handlers? That's grosser than diaper changing, hands-down!

Good friends of ours got a dog two days ago. This dog happens to rank pretty high on the cuteness scale and, coming from me that's pretty huge. Not having been around dogs for much of my life, I didn't realize that getting a dog is a lot like bringing home a baby. First of all, a once one-language household becomes dual-language: English and babytalk. People talk to dogs as if they are babies..."whose mommy's good boy?" "Did shumone go pee-pee?" Second, dog responsibilities seem very similar to baby responsibilities. Last night, the couple we were with had to return to their home because the dog was alone. And, when we got there, they had to clean up doggy poop or puke, or whatever that brown stuff was. Third, dogs require "stuff"...squeeky toys, a bed, special food...soon, the owner's stuff is displaced for stuff for the new arrival. Finally (and to round out this nicely-structured third-grade-style four-point paragraph), dogs seem to instantly become the object of the family's affection, over everyone else...just like when you bring home a baby. I don't want to steal Louis C.K.'s bit from "Shameless", but it basically involves a once-close married couple bringing home their baby...their flesh-and-blood, the person for whom they would take a bullet, and then looking at each other asking, "who the fuck are you?"

So, no, we're never getting a dog. I can list the reasons (responsibilities, walking, the smell, etc.) But it's mostly the handling of dog poop. And, in the immortal words of Sarah Silverman, "I don't need two reasons when doody's involved."

Happy Blog-o-versary to me

2007-08-04T21:02:00.000-05:00

Today, I (and, you, I guess) celebrate the one-year anniversary of Newdaddy! What will the next year bring? Will I post the definitive treatise on how to stop a crying baby regardless of the circumstances? Will Bud write her own guest post before her second birthday? Will I learn to accept and not be annoyed by jerk-offs in parking lots who see me folding up a stroller and say, "Hey, Dad...having fun? I remember when I was doing that."

Happy Blog-o-versary, my faithful readers. (Including you, Mr. Google-search-for "fake breast in the movie Meet the Parents.)

Then & Now

2007-08-01T19:26:00.000-05:00

Wow, what a difference five years makes...the 2002 trip to Cape Cod is quite different than this year's. Let's look at the most memorable differences, shall we?

Total # of Children:
2002: one, a dog, if you consider that a child. I don't.
2007: three.

Song Stuck in My Head Throughout Trip:
2002: Nelly's "Hot in Heere" [sic]
2007: Laurie Berkner's "Let's go Swimming"

Most Common Reason for Leaving the Beach:
2002: Miller Time
2007: Nap Time

Most Frequent Program Played on TV:
2002: "American Idol" (Not my choice).
2007: Sesame Street's "Beginning Together" (Not my choice).

Most Frequent Game Played:
2002: Backgammon
2007: "Bud has a cup on her head"

Wake-up Time:
2002: There was one?
2007: 7am

L'il Lenin

2007-07-30T18:59:00.000-05:00

We rented a house with another family in Cape Cod. It's a nice place, but it does not get the YES Network...instead, they have something here called NESN, but there's really nothing on for some reason. And people don't seem to like my Yankees cap very much...strange.

The other family are old friends of ours, and in a weird way we are celebrating the five year anniversary of our last trip to Cape Cod. This trip has three new participants: Bud, and our friend's two children: a three-year-old and a sixteen-month-old...all girls. The toy situation is pretty funny, everyone's interested in everything. Bud grabs the younger sister's toy, which prompts me to give the "share" speech...and it went something like this...

"Bud, you should share. Because, if you share your toys with others, they will share your toys with you....and then everyone has more toys to play with!"

My friend hears this, and calls from the other room: "Sounds like communism to me." Touche'.

Why he's a good parent: apparently, about three weeks ago, the older daughter declares, "I want beers." Plural. Awesome.

P.S. I'm old. I gave the "you should share" speech. Last week I was the "adult" in "children below this height must be accompanied by an adult."