A Wish For '07...

Things I Could Have Done Without in 2006 (Part 2)

Continuing on...

• "Brothers and Sisters" (The TV Show). "Is that why you wanted to be Jewish, so that Gd would cure your diabetes?" I want those forty-eight minutes back.
• America's obsession with celebrity babies. Bud is cuter than Suri. It's just a fact.
  
• Time Person of the Year.....me?? Time began its tradition of cheap cop-outs in 1950 with "The American Fighting Man" (Korean War). "Person of the Year" was given to a non-person in 1982: "The Computer." And, in 2006, it's me. I'm in good company...Stalin, Hitler....
• Transfats removed from New York City. Tell me, how am I supposed to get a good buffalo wing without transfats??
  

Well, there you have it.

Things I Could Have Done Without in 2006 (Part 1)

Not too long ago, I broke my rule that I wouldn't publish cheesy, mushy posts about how much I love my daughter. I believe my exact words were that I wouldn't write: "[My baby] is the snuggliest, loviest, blessing I have ever received." Well, she is...so bite me.

To balance this out, I want you all to know that despite 2006 being a fantastic year for me (as I became a father), there were some things this year that I could have done without. Here goes...

1. Bluetooth. There was a time when I knew who on the street was crazy and who was not, as the crazy people talked to themselves. Now everyone's talking to themselves, and if you aren't looking at the right angle, it's hard to tell who's actually using a Bluetooth headset. And since when is it acceptable to WEAR your phone??
   
2. Panic! at the Disco. "What a Beautiful Wedding..." Shut up, shut up, shut up!! What is this band's appeal?
   
3. "Portrait of Promise", the educational video on shaken baby syndrome that the hospital made us watch when Bud was born. It aired at 1:40 pm, 8:40pm and 2:40am. Very convenient....I guess they thought new parents would be up at 2:40am anyway. At about 11pm on our last night, we realized we hadn't watched it yet.
   
4. The collapse of the New York Yankees. (A certain other New York team looks like it may be on the verge of a collapse too, but I don't want to say anything until Sunday.)
5. The "holiday season" starting in early November. I am sorry, but the week before Thanksgiving is not the "most wonderful time of the year."
   

To be continued....

Loosen Up My Buttons

In honor of Bud discovering how to push buttons, I decided to give her the whole keyboard, and let her type today's message. Here's goes...

oijoidfmonkjkpo rgmpojgrmpio
wronief
oij jkfoijefopji-09u-032-[0 2r,m eihbethfhiobohidblkjlivmvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv

She makes a good point, no?

A Job Aint Nothing But Work

Apologies for my recent delinquency in posting. This blog is devoted to my life as a father and, well, my professional duties called this week. It's pretty sad, one late night at the office gets me home after Bud goes to sleep, and I miss an entire day of seeing her. Throw that in with an office holiday party, and a friend coming in from out of town, and you have three days in a row sans-fatherhood.

...and, therefore, sans-posting.

One day, I heard a familiar beeping on the baby monitor...it was that interference you get on the phone sometimes when your blackberry (if it's nearby) is receiving a message. My blackberry interfering with the baby monitor...it's a good metaphor for fatherhood.

But, we have two three-day weekends in a row, so I'll have time to catch up with my parental duties/doodies.

The Newdaddy Soundtrack (or Newdaddy's Day Off)

Newmommy threw her back out, so I stayed home from work today.

Here was my day: first, I convinced my very nervous best friend to steal his father's car. We then went and picked up my girlfriend, and then drove into the city. Wait, no, that wasn't me.

Oh, yeah, now I remember...if my life were a TV show, today's the episode where I learn what it's like to be Newmommy by taking care of Bud all day.

Yes, it's hard, and yes, I am exhausted. Although in all fairness, I tried to hold down the fort here while "working from home." That probably was not smart. I did have fun with Bud, though, as I had the rare opportunity to play with her all day.

She's found her thumb, she has short bursts of giggles and I think she's close to discovering her feet.

So it's time to eat, and she's all wound up. So, I thought some singing would calm her down. Admittedly, I am not much of a singer, but there's something about parenting and singing that just go together. I am sick of all the kid's songs lately, so I sang whatever came to my head....here's tonight's soundtrack:

• "Ice Ice Baby," Vanilla Ice
• "U Can't Touch This," MC Hammer
• "Three Little Birds," Bob Marley & The Wailers
• "I Shot the Sheriff," Bob Marley & The Wailers
• Theme to "The Facts of Life"
• Theme to "Diff'rent Strokes"
• Theme to "Family Ties" (which about two lines in, I realized I didn't know)
• Theme to "Silver Spoons"

Still trying to figure out what happened there....how do you go from Bob Marley to "The Facts of Life"?? No clue.

Happy Hanukkah

Do you want to argue about the spelling?

How about a nice friendly game of dreidel?

How about singing a traditional Hanukkah song?

Bud figured out how to use Ofoto, because she gave me a deck of cards and a beer mug, each with her picture on it! Newmommy and I got her this for the first night. She loves it, and it's given me a great business idea...please don't steal it: a line of baby toys that play music but don't annoy parents! Children's shows these days often include a lot of adult humor; why can't toys be tailored so as not to annoy parents? Seriously, if I hear that Leapfrog woman say "three little butterflies fluttering by, three little butterflies fly, fly, fly..." one more time I may have to shoot myself.

Dreidel comes up on spellcheck? F-ing anti-semites.

This Girl Knows What's Up

There's something to be said for a kid who's a little naive...

Viddy Well

I just got through watching "Baby Beethoven" with Bud. She was sitting in her Bumbo, which is a chair designed so a baby can sit upright. It's good, but it restricts her movement a bit. Her sitting in that chair, watching a video with bizarre imagines with Beethoven playing in the background...hmmm, does that remind anyone of something?

P.S. For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, click here. (Then go rent it. But don't watch it with your kids.)

And so begins another holiday season...

It's early December. I know because Christmas songs have been playing in every store I've gone in for about five weeks. The requisite "Had Thanksgiving Plans that Got Ruined, But I Learned a Deeper Lesson About Myself" episode of every sitcom has already been followed by the "Cynical Character Turned Straight" Christmas episode. That reddish-brown dried skin has begun to form on my hands, and I have to climb to work over hundreds of tourists holding signs that they just tried to get shown on the "Today Show."

Don't get me wrong...there are good things about this time of year: two three-day weekends in a row, work holiday parties (who's going to get drunk and embarrass themselves this year?), Starbucks Gingerbread Lattes, and, generally, there's a lot more chocolate accessible everywhere. Plus, New Year's Eve...a holiday where we celebrate the changing of a calendar...I love it.

Of course, there's Hanukkah. What do you get a three-month old who has no idea what a gift is in the first place? I'll tell you...whatever I want! I'm just going to enjoy this one, as next year, I probably won't get off so easy!

So, in the immortal words of Krusty the Klown, "have a merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah, kwazy Kwanzaa, a tip-top Tet, and a solemn, dignified Ramadan."

Fatherhood is Amazing

Look, I realize that I've spent a lot of time on this blog making jokes and being cynical about things that fathers have to go through. But, as I approach Bud's three-month birthday, I've been doing a lot of thinking about what it's like being a father, and I have concluded that it's pretty incredible.

My daughter is talking now. No, not words, unless you count 'aaalalahhall' as a word. But as she babbles, her facial expressions mimic those of someone actually conversing. I read today that two-thirds of communication that takes place during live conversation is done through facial expressions. I guess I'm not crazy in thinking that she is talking to me.

To cheesy for you? Fair enough. To make up for it, I give you this public service announcement.

More Dadiquette

In an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm, Larry David gets pissed off because a guy driving a Prius didn't waive to him on the road to acknowledge the fact that they were driving the same car. It sounds silly, but I'd be pissed off too...the guy in the Prius should have waived a "Hey, you and I have something common" waive.

This happened to me today...I was doing my holiday shopping at the mall (more on that to come...). I was pushing a stroller full of bags, while Newmommy had Bud in the Bjorn. We pass a couple doing the EXACT SAME THING...he with the present-filled stroller, her with the Bjorn. Newmommy and I gave a knowing smile, they saw us and kept walking.

Come on, this is a funny situation. Going the mall to do something as simple as holiday shopping has become quite the ordeal, involving carefully planning and logistics. If you spent your morning knowingly drawing up the same plan, you should at least acknowledge those who did the same. It's only polite.


And while we're on the subject of holiday shopping, don't be fooled into buying this album..."Whip It" is not on it!

The Newdaddyies: Daddy of the Year

I'm accepting nominations for the highly coveted "Newdaddy! Daddy of the Year Award." The Newdaddy! Daddy of the Year for 2006 will be announced in January, and will be given to the person showing excellence in the field of daddying. Nominees must be famous fathers (I'm sure your dad is great...sorry), real or fictional, dead or alive.

And, keeping with the spirit of this blog, the entries need not be serious. I'm not looking for tear-jerking stories of heroism.

To enter, send the name of your nominee along with a short statement as to why he is your pick for Daddy of the Year to: mrbuddaddy [at] yahoo [dot] com.

THIS COMPETITION IS OPEN TO LEGAL RESIDENTS OF THE CONTINENTAL UNITED STATES, ALASKA OR HAWAII, OR A NATION THAT IS NOT THE UNITED STATES. Nominations will be accepted until December 31, 2006 at 11:59pm, or whenever I go out that night, whichever is earlier. Employees (and their immediate families) of Newdaddy! , Newdaddy! Enterprises, Newdaddy! Holding Company, Newdaddy! Partners, Ltd., and Argon Chemicals, Inc., and each of the foregoing parties' respective affiliated companies, and subsidiaries, are not eligible to submit nominations, unless they are really, really good. By submitting a nomination, entrants agree to be bound by the Official Rules and by the decisions of Newdaddy, which are final in all matters unless Newmommy overturns Newdaddy's decision, in which case, I guess I'm screwed. Void where prohibited, unless an exemption is available. Shots do not hurt other players, yet. Winning nominee will not receive anything except their name and biography posted on this blog, which should be enough, dammit!

iBaby

My portable XM Radio is broken, so I sent it back to get fixed as it's still under warranty. Unfortunately, that leaves me with nothing to listen to on my morning commute but my own thoughts, which are not as entertaining as Opie and Anthony.

This morning, I got to thinking...iPods are taking over the world. It seems like everything is designed to plug into an iPod, or have an iPod plugged into it: furniture, cars, airplane seats. I dare you to walk into a Sharper Image and find something that's not compatible with an iPod. (OK, don't do that, but you get my point...)

My mind wandered to a prediction made by a relative of mine (who will remain nameless). He believes that in a few years, people will be able to go to a store and buy replacement body parts. I wonder if these body parts will be compatible with iPods also. Wouldn't that be convenient? Plugging an iPod right into your arm?

No, it's actually pretty disturbing. I want my XM radio back.

Book Report: Goodnight Moon

"Goodnight Moon" by Margaret Wise Brown, illustrated by Clement Hurd, is a children's classic book originally published almost sixty years ago. Every parent I know has this book in their child's collection.

And I just don't get it.

Now, there are some very cool features about this book. As the book progresses, the time on the clock gets later, the room gets darker and the moon gets higher.

But who the hell can sleep with all that's going on in that room? There's a red balloon, a rabbit in the bed and another sewing (since when are rabbits 'old ladies' anyway?) , freaky pictures of animals, cats, mice, and a bowl of mush that's no doubt stinking up the room.

I had a similar issue with Sandra Boynton's "The Going to Bed Book." These animals all take a bath together (and I'm not even going to go there...), put on their pajamas, and then go work out! Who can sleep right after working out...especially in sweaty pajamas?

All in all, however, these books put my little girl to bed, so I guess I'd recommend them despite the fact that I just don't get them.

And, far be it from me to mention "Goodnight Moon" without mentioning this famous rendition!

What I'm Thankful For...

My family has a rule. Yeah, we do the cheesy go- around -the -table -and -say -what -you're -thankful -for at Thanksgiving dinner. But, we take the Wheel-of-Fortune approach and knock out the "health and family" category (because that's what everyone would say). It's not that we're not thankful, it just makes for a better conversation this way. I'm working on my list...

• Diaper Decor. My house doesn't smell like feces...how could I not be thankful?
• Tivo. What did parents do before Tivo? Miss their shows for feedings? That's stupid.
• The white noise machine. I think it works, as Bud has developed some good sleep habits. More on that later.
• Newmommy (OK, I'll break the rule)...she doesn't make me get up to do night feedings on school nights.
  
• "The Office"...that's just a good show.
• YouTube. And the creative parents who post videos.
• Paternity leave....really came in handy this year.
  

That's what I've got so far. I still have about 17 hours to go.

Anyway, happy Thanksgiving everyone! I think my family has gotten sick of turkey and, as such, is going the (I think) brisket route. In any event, how can you think of Thanksgiving without thinking of this classic scene from "Planes, Trains and Automobiles"?

BURP! Did you hear that? She said "burlap!"

I have a joke for you. Ready?

An elephant comes down and rubs your nose.

Nothing? Well, it's no wonder. There are only two ways you'd find that funny. First, if you were stoned to the bejesus belt. Second, if you were my daughter. She finds that joke hysterical, and I am pretty sure that I heard her first laugh last night.

I know what you're thinking...isn't 2 1/2 months early for a laugh? Yeah, it probably is...however, parents always exaggerate their kid's milestones. For example, ask parents of 1-3 year olds what their child's first word was. Most of them will say "mama" or "dada." C'mon, those are not really words...by that rationale, Bud already has quite an involved vocabulary: everything from "aauga" to "meha." But, no, I am not ready to sign her up for MENSA yet.

(Of course, "dada" is defined in the dictionary as: "A European artistic and literary movement (1916-1923) that flouted conventional aesthetic and cultural values by producing works marked by nonsense, travesty, and incongruity." Perhaps your child meant to begin a conversation about this...in which case, what the heck are you feeding him?)

OK, it wasn't a true laugh, but a slight giggle. But, in true parental form, I am marking down month 2, day 10 as "first laugh."

Look, if Meg Griffin can have her first drum solo at age one; anything is possible.

[Note: in spellchecking this post, I noticed that "dada" was picked up, but "mama" wasn't. Sexists.]

Thank You Mario! But our princess is in another castle!

Dear Mother and Father Sitting at the Next Table Over at about 8pm Tonight at the All-You-Can-Eat Sushi Bar on 81st Street With the 9-year-old With the Gameboy,

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the fact that you're taking your child to sushi bars at a young age (even though you did order him the teriyaki...that's like going to a Brazilian bar-b-que and ordering the fish). But, rather than talk to the kid, you two talked to each other and let that kid play on his f-ing Gameboy for an hour straight! You know what I did...I had to listen to that stupid Mario Brothers music...and now I can't get it out of my head!

Don't you realize that you should be teaching your kid to interact, and not to just be addicted to his little electronic toys. ...wait a minute, my blackberry is buzzing.

You know what else I heard? Your asinine conversation. "Brothers and Sisters is the best show on TV." Are you serious? You should have been arrested just for saying that! Day Break....DAY BREAK!?!?! Am I the only one who realizes that's a rip-off of Groundhog Day?? Maybe it's a good thing you let that kid play on that Gameboy.

All my best,

Newdaddy

P.S. Are you missing any hidden messages in your kid's video games??

Newdaddy: Two Month Report Card

I realize it's a little belated, as Bud's two month birthday passed last week, but considering we reached that milestone (and considering that I also reached the milestone of my fiftieth blog post), I give you my two-month report card.

Work-Baby Balance: B. It started off well; I took a good amount of time off for paternity leave. But now that year-end is approaching, I've come home a few nights after Bud's gone to bed, so I took off some points for that.

Convincing my friends that I'm still cool despite the fact that I change diapers: D. Another "balance" that I am trying to maintain is family/friends, and I have made a conscious effort lately to spend time with the boys. I can't help but think, however, that they look at me a bit different, knowing that I handle baby poop.

Putting Bud to Bed: C. Shhhhh.....shhhhh.....shhhhhh. Your eyes are closed, so I'm going to stop rocking you and gently put you in your...DAMN! Let's start again.

Photography: A. An area of improvement...my home and office are now filled with pictures.

Giving respect to my sister: C. I have not mentioned Newaunt much on this blog, so let me give you five reasons why my sister rocks:
(1) She drove us to the hospital when Newmommy was "scheduled" to give birth.
(2) She's a free babysitter. Well, I guess it's not free if I'm paying for the sushi.
(3) She got us one of the best baby presents: the white noise machine. Yes, this thing does work in helping babies sleep.
(4) In her own words, she "visits at least once a week and has participated in numerous feeding, burping, and changing sessions. She has also brought breakfast, dinner, and Starbucks to Newmommy and Newdaddy when Bud was first born."
(5) She's promised not to introduce my daughter to a place called "the mall" or things called "credit cards." OK, that's wishful thinking. (please!)

Teaching the finer points in life: A. Forget "Baby Einstein", Bud's into classic rock. She has also seen baseball and football games (on TV, of course) and although she has not actually eaten sushi, she has been explained how it's done.

Not such a hot GPA this month. I'd better re-check my Scantron sheets to make sure that nothing was graded incorrectly. (That never was the case.)

I will turn this car around!

A quick, random thought for a Sunday night:

Today, we were on our way to do the Grandparents Committee tour (both sets live in central New Jersey). I turned to Newmommy and said, "Do you realize, we are mom and dad...driving to grandma's house?" I fought the urge to turn around and say to Bud, "I WILL turn this car around!" She was asleep.

Major developments for this week:

• Smiling. She started that two weeks ago, but now she is responding to our smiles.
  
• Cooing. It's not a cry, and not really talking or babbling...it's something in the middle. Her facial expressions, however, look like she's trying to tell us something. (Didn't Homer Simpson's brother invent a baby translator? I need to get me one of those.)
  

OK, back to the Giants game.

Dadiquette

I'm going to write this post at the risk of offending at least three of my closest friends who may think I am writing specifically about them. I'm not...you're like the ninth, tenth, eleventh example of this. I'm guilty of it too...but I am going to throw stones in my little glass nursery.

What do you do if you have plans with someone who has a baby and you, your spouse, your kid, etc. come down with a cold? I will tell you. The proper etiquette is to cancel. I understand. I don't want to get sick and I don't want Bud to get sick. I can see you next week...it's OK.

Here's what you don't do...

(1) Ask me what I think you should do. I'm not a doctor...if you have to ask, you probably shouldn't be coming over.

(2) Make a "game day decision." It's 10:30pm, you're not going to be all better by noon tomorrow.

(3) Chalk it up to allergies. You probably don't have allergies.

Next time on "Dadiquette": If I don't know you, get your damn hands off my child.

This post is written in honor of my mother-in-law, who got sick and cancelled tonight's plans...leaving Newmommy and I without a babysitter, and making it another week until I get to see the Borat movie. Jegshamesh!

Oh, How I Admire This Nation's Priorities

I give you today's cover of the New York Post...take a look at what gets top billing! Don't you just love this country? (For those reading the archives, this is the day after the 2006 mid-term elections.)

It's understandable, I guess. Britney Spears is more attractive than Nancy Pelosi. Although, the new Speaker of the House never drove a car with an infant on her lap...and if she did, then the GOP really missed that during the midterms.

And, well, there you have it. Newdaddy's take on politics.

Happy 2 month birthday to Bud!!

The times they are a'becoming quite different

As I mentioned in my very first post on this blog, as a father-to-be, I received a lot of 'warnings' about the perils of parenthood from current fathers. Everyone warned, "your life is going to change...get those nights out, nights of sleep, movies, etc. in now." The song is a bit different now that I actually have a child.

A few nights ago, Newmommy and I visited friends of ours who have a ten-month old. Rather than warn me about what was to come, the father gave me an exciting preview.

"Oh, it's great! At about four months, they start to develop real personalities." He then described all of the things I can look forward to: playing, constant smiles, talking (sort of), easier feedings (thank God!), and laughter.

This really is the trend now. In my first post, I asked, "Is it that most guys just don't enjoy being fathers? Or is it the same BS hazing-the-new-guy that we got before starting high school?" Now that I am "in the club", I know it is the latter. And that's encouraging for the state of fathers these days.

So, in the spirit of things to look forward to, I leave you with this video someone forwarded me...

My Daughter the Comedian

Try to picture this as if it were a scene from a movie:

4:30 this morning. It's daddy's night to handle feedings, and we're a good three or four ounces in (and my nipples are killing me...) She hasn't burped in about two ounces, so, to avoid a spit up situation, I try to burp her. I try the over-the-shoulder maneuver, the seated-on-lap position, even the patented Newmommy trick (which I'll get into in a future post). Ten minutes go by...nothing.

"OK," says Newdaddy, "You don't want to burp...I'll give you a little bit more, but I don't want to play the spit up game!"

The nipple barely touched her lips before we were both covered in spit up.

So, I take her to the changing table, clean her up and change her. When it's all over, she pauses, looks at me, and lets out this enormous burp. Then gives me a knowing smile.

I get the joke. Very funny.

P.S. If I didn't know any better, I'd also think that she's flipped me the bird a few times. She must just be getting used to her hands....'cause she's not supposed to want to flip me off for another six or seven years.

Aloha Mr. Hand!

I'd like to elaborate on my last post...

My "your-first-year-as-a-parent" books all tell me that during her second month, my daughter will spend a lot of time examining her hands. This is good, as she's learning that her hands are actually part of her body. The books say that by sucking on her hands, and then a pacifier, bottle, shirt, etc., she will begin to tell her body from inanimate objects. I guess that's a good skill to have.

The bad news is that learning the intricacies of the hand is frustrating the hell out of her. She really, really wants to suck her thumb. She'll sit there and stare at her fist, trying so hard to figure out how to do it, all the while looking visibly angry because she can't figure it out! Sometimes she'll just stare, other times she'll get close and suck on her fist. A few times, she'd stare for a few minutes, and then deck herself in the eye (then, understandably, cry.)

This whole process is actually pretty amazing to watch, as I'm sure next week or the week after, she'll figure it out, and then move on to some other challenge we've all taken for granted. It's a lot of fun seeing the wheels turn....

DAMN!! I just spent forty minutes rocking Bud to sleep, and just now my f-ing cell phone rang and woke her up. I guess I'll finish this another time.

I Love Lamp, I Love Lamp

What's great about having a baby is you get to re-live everything. I am rediscovering things that my daughter is only discovering for the first time, and appreciating how great they are. Last week, we had two major discoveries.

First, hands. Hands are pretty friggin' cool! I've taken them for granted, but when you stop and think about it...without hand gestures, how else would we know how good/bad a movie is? How else would waiters know when to bring us the check? How else would we greet fellow occupants of the New Jersey Turnpike who cut us off before exit 8 last weekend in the red Hyundai?

Second, light. Every time we pass a light, she stares at it. When I feed her, she just looks up at the lamp behind the feeding chair. I think she loves lamp, not unlike Steve Carell.

Two other things I'd like to mention...

A good friend of mine (who will remain nameless until he tells me this news is public) will be joining the world of newdaddys soon. He asked me: what conventional wisdom about parenting turned out to be wrong? I told him that everyone says diaper changes are the hardest thing about being a new parent; when I really think it's feeding. This gave me an idea for a feature on this blog: Ask Newdaddy. Got a question about newdaddydom? Ask me by sending an e-mail to mrbuddaddy@yahoo.com. I can't promise that my answer will be right, or that it won't be a bunch of garbled palaver, but it may make for a good topic.

Second, DaddyG, another close friend of mine, has recently been re-inducted into the world of newdaddys. Be sure to check out DaddyG's "A Daddy's Diary."

Elephant Trunks

For Halloween, we are dressing Bud up as an elephant...partly because she likes the elephant on her play-mat, but mostly because the costume is really cute. I thought it would be a good idea if Newmommy and I got elephant trunks to wear, so that we would be a matching family.

I went to Party City, thinking that this would be a common item for a party store to sell- and it turns out I was right. It did, however, take me a long time to find the trunks, as the store was packed with people getting their Halloween costumes.

By the way, this store was proof that there are more "sexy" costumes in the world than women who should be wearing them. Yet, from the looks of the people at Party City, there's going to be no surplus of sexy costumes this Halloween!! Ugghhh....

(Un-)sexy costumes, drunk/pregnant Britney Spears...they had everything. So you could imagine my surprise when the 16-year-old check-out girl rings up my two elephant trunks (together under $5), looks at me suspiciously (like I just bought porn) and snidely says, "Elephant Trunks?" Yeah, like I bought the strangest thing in the store today! It's a friggin' Halloween store in the last week of October. Are you kidding me??

Check-out girl tells me that she's dressing up as the bumble bee girl from the Blind Melon album cover (and the video for 'No Rain'). I think I had a high school teacher who had that idea in like 1993. What were you, three years old when that album came out? Just ring up my elephant trunks.

P.S. Congratulations to the St. Louis Cardinals. I only wish you had managed to pull that off two years ago.

Leash-a-kid

Dear Tourist Mother on 46th and 8th yesterday at about 8:15am getting on the double-decker tourbus,

Leash-a-kids are unacceptable. Leashes are for dogs, not for keeping track of your child. If you can't keep an eye on your child while he is within the radius of the leash, you probably shouldn't be taking the child out alone.

These things are especially unacceptable on an ten year old. I do realize that New York City is a very scary place, but it's not so scary that you need to leash a ten year old. That's just paranoia, and humiliating to the child.

Sincerely,

Newdaddy

P.S. Putting matching "I heart New York" sweaters on your three children is also unacceptable.

Complaint Department

I got my first complaint about this blog. Someone was upset that I had posted two articles that were not on the topic of daddying. (Actually, only one wasn't on topic, the other sort-of was).

You know the expression "the customer is always right." That's not our policy here...if it's 11:30am, you have to order something from the lunch menu. Breakfast's over...

But it's more than just that. And it's more than adding color to this blog. Daddys are people too, and I don't spend my entire day "daddying." I go to work, sometimes engage in what's left of my social life, watch sporting events, write on this blog...I'm sure there are other things in there somewhere (I think I ate a steak last week). To truly describe what it's like to enter the world of fatherhood, it can't be all stories about spitup and sleepless nights and social smiles. I gotta throw in a rant about how boring a world series between St. Louis and Detroit is...I mean, come on, the World Champion the year my daughter was born is either going to be the Cardinals or the Tigers.

While we're on the topic of this blog, what's worse- the fact that someone googled "Revenge of the Nerds 4 Booger Burp", or the fact that my blog was a hit for that search? Revenge of the Nerds FOUR?? Someone's actually looking for a scene from Revenge of the Nerds 4??? And I'm getting complaints for talking about baseball?!?!?

The Hall of Lost T-Shirts

Fatherhood brings a lot of "hellos"...but, unfortunately, it also brings a lot of "goodbyes." Goodbye having a car that's not decorated with baby stuff....goodbye spur-of-the-moment dinners out and goodbye T-shirts, lost to the world of spit-up stains.

Today we salute my "Urbanfetch" T-Shirt. A free gift from Urbanfetch, an internet service that used to deliver videos, ice cream, snacks, etc. around New York City. Although very short-lived (I think it was around for a year between 1999 and 2000), Urbanfetch was quite useful when I was in law school.

The shirt was with me through the temporary work-out phase in 2002...when I swore I'd hit the gym four times a week. It was almost lost in my luggage on a flight back from Puerto Rico in 2004. It's survived sweat, nights of sleep and hours in the hamper. And now it's gone. Stained forever by spit-up. Urban Fetch T-Shirt...I'll miss you.

P.S. A big congratulations to DaddyG on the birth of his daughter. It's his #2, but I'll welcome him (back) to the Newdaddy club!

That's not sushi....

Well, toilet training is now no longer a problem for parents, thanks to this instructional video from Japan...

Some things are better left untranslated.

Bjorn to be Wild

"I used to be with it, but then they changed what "it" was. Now, what I'm with isn't it, and what's "it" seems weird and scary to me." - Grandpa in "The Simpsons": "Homerpalooza"

This past weekend was a weekend of firsts: first time I was alone for the day with Bud, first time I drove in the car with her (not including the ride home from the hospital), our first family outing (apple-picking), and, of course, the first time I donned the Baby Bjorn.

I always thought the Baby Bjorn looked strange- and it does. I really didn't want to wear this for the day, and when I tried it on, I was hoping it just "wouldn't work out," but the minute I put Bud in there, she smiled, closed her eyes and let out a relaxed coo. She obviously liked it, and she immediately won me over. So, I was finished. That's bad news...only one month old and she's already winning. My credit card is doomed!!

I'm walking around an apple orchard wearing a Baby Bjorn. This is how it starts. Then, I buy a fanny pack because it's "practical." I begin to like the gentle tunes of Kenny G. Dinner time gets earlier and earlier. So does bedtime. TV doesn't make sense anymore, so I start a Pinochle club while my wife plays Mah Jong. Suddenly, I'm living in Florida. Bud's kids come to visit and I tell a 75-minute story about how cheap the movies used to be a $20 a pop. My blog posts are all about my doctor's visits.

I don't mean to double up on the Simpsons quotes today, but they both sum it up so perfectly!

"I used to Rock 'N' Roll all night and party ev-er-y-day. Then it was every other day. Now I'm lucky if I find half an hour a week in which to get funky." -Homer, same episode

Well, I'm an Idiot

"Frank: You can't run the ad and then not run the story."
"Fletch: You can't? Why not? Shit. Really?"
- from "Fletch"

OK, I changed my mind about that live-blogging of the middle-of-the-night feeding. It would have been very easy to just delete that post, but I figure I'd be up front with you. Here are my reasons:

(1) Posting that would have made me a hypocrite. I specifically said that I didn't want this blog to be a "Minute-by-Minute My Baby Is....blog." I know why you read Newdaddy, it's because of my integrity. And I would hate to let you down.

(2) Bud slept "through the night." There really was no middle-of-the-night feeding. We put her down at about 12:30am, and she woke me up at 6am.

(3) I don't even own a tape recorder. Tape recorder? I don't even own tapes. I have one of those mini-recorders, but I keep that in the office.

(4) The feeding was uneventful. It would have been a terrible post. No spit ups, very quick burps, and a reading of "Hippos Go Berserk."

There you have it...a little bit of honesty.

Spitup Live!!

Stealing an idea from a friend of mine, I will be live-blogging tonight's middle-of-the-night feeding. Of course, I won't be at the computer...I will dictate into a tape recorder and post tomorrow.

Reminds me of a joke: "Can I borrow your dictaphone?" "No, use your finger like everyone else."

Book Report: My First ABC Board Book

[Spoiler Warning: I give away the ending in this post. Please do not read if you would like to remain in suspense.]

I heard a lot of good things about this book when I went out to buy it, but I think it came up short...especially in the plot department. In the first two pages, you meet the characters "Apple" and "Bear", briefly get to know them, and never hear from them again! What ever happened to character development?

Where's the conflict? Peacock, Quail, Rabbit...I was expecting a massive rumble between these natural enemies!! Instead, nothing...right to the Snowman.

And the twist ending involving the Yo-yo and the Zipper...totally predictable. Try surprising the reader once in a while!!

Newdaddy: One Month Report Card

Sunday marked Bud's one month birthday! The time sure went fast. Let's take a look back on my first month as a father, and see how I scored.

Feeding: B. I got the basics down: the "football hold" (which, ironically, I never got down in gym class), mixing the formula quickly so as not to leave her crying, etc. I deducted points for my inability to burp properly.

Running to the store to pick up stuff: A+. I got very good at that this month...even better than during the training period (pregnancy).

"Stuff" assembly: A-. Not only is it incredible how much "stuff" you need for a new baby, it's also incredible how much stuff requires assembly. Thankfully, assembly has gotten easier, and instructions have generally gotten better since I put together Ikea furniture in my college apartment. Lost points as I think it takes me longer than it should.

Baby Talk: B+. I am getting very good at talking in "Baby." Yes, I am! Yes, I am!! Yesh I am my googly-woogly. Lost points 'cause I still get annoyed hearing it from other people.

One-handed-task-negotiation: A-. With a baby in one hand, doing normal tasks with only one hand is a challenge. But, as a corporate lawyer, I have become quite proficient at the drink-and-plate-of-appetizers-in-one-hand-so-as-to-keep-the-fork-free maneuver at cocktail parties...this was a natural step for me.

Long-phrases-connected-by-dashes: A+.

Photography: B. Essential to any good father's repertoire. It's not that my pics aren't good, I just don't take enough. I have to get on that.

I did pretty well this month, although some areas need improvement. We'll revisit this next month.

Off-topic Rant: The Yankees

isappointed.


Are we friends yet?

I know that this blog is about my entrance into the world of fatherhood, but I figure we've reached a point in our relationship that we can periodically expand into other topics. So, let's talk about what's on my mind.

The Yankees are out of the post-season. For all intents and purposes, baseball season is over (at least for me). And they went out like suckers.

First, credit where credit is due- the Tigers played a hell of a series. Bonderman pitched an amazing game today.

Now, to the Yankees...the team needs to be completely revamped...the team needs to be broken completely apart and put back together. Here's my theory- the Yankees, especially the post-season lineup, are a collection of some of the best players ever to play the game. Everyone on that lineup had at least one appearance in an All-Star game! Problem is, they are not good as a team. So, you have a bunch of great individual players. After 162 games, mathematically, you are probably going to come up with enough games to make it to the post-season. But, when you need to win three specific games...say 3 against the Tigers (or Angels or A's for that matter), or 4 against the Marlins or Red Sox...that's really difficult. Adding post-season pressure, the teams playing as teams will probably outplay the random collection of all-stars. And that's what happened today.

As much as I hate to say it, the Yankees have to lose some of the dead weight and start over. First divestiture...A-Rod. I really thought he was going to show all the booing-NY-ers that they were wrong. Guess not. Randy Johnson...he's a headcase. On the list of keepers: Jeter, Cano, Posada. What the Yanks really need to do is realize that there is a wealth of talent in their farm system! Cano, Cabrera, Wang...who else is playing AAA or AA that can be of help next season?

Some will tell you it came down to pitching. Maybe, maybe not. I still believe Moose is a solid pitcher (although I did not have faith in Johnson or Wright.) Back in the late '90s, however, the success came not out of the individual players, but out of the team chemistry that just wasn't there this year.

Well, at least the Red Sox didn't knock us out.

Lost

"Oh man, I have no idea what's going on!" -Towlie

It's good to have "Lost" back...even though I had NO idea what was going on in that episode last night. I had a better understanding of last season- a guy has to wake up every 108 minutes to stop a loud screetching noise...well, that pretty much sums it up for me.

My Tivo has a mind of its own (it thinks I'm 5 years old because I tape "The Simpsons" and "Family Guy") so I missed "The Office" tonight. I think "Lost" and "The Office" are two of the three best shows on T.V. (the third being 24...no particular order, of course), although I think "The Office" is getting particularly close to a certain shark....

Calling the Shit "Poop"

As Billy Madison would tell you, there are quite a few names for "poop." Problem is, when you try to have a serious conversation with an adult (especially a doctor) about the digestive health of your baby, there is really no good word to use. That's because words for "poop" fall into three categories: (1) kiddie-words like doodie, poop, poopie, caca, plop and doodle, (2) vulgar/obscene words like shit, crap, dump and load and (3) medical words (that sound strange coming from a non-doctor): stool, fecal matter and bowel movement. You can't win!

Now, back to our first family post-season game! (Yankees vs. Tigers. Yankees up 5-0.)

First Date (since the baby)

Last night, Newmommy and I had our first night out since the baby arrived. We left Bud (still no luck on a nickname that'll stick) with Newgrandma (my mother...Newmommy's mother is Newnana) and went into the city for dinner.

As we walked down Second Avenue, we saw groups of city-raised teenagers beginning their nights out in the same venues that we frequented when I was in law school. We were amazed that people who looked fifteen and sixteen were bar-hoping; and then it hit us, almost simultaneously: we are parents out for the night, with the babysitter at home. That is bizarre.

It got weirder when I called Newgrandma. I'll admit it- I was checking in on them. I asked how things were going. Newgrandma: "fine...she's doing great!" I asked if Bud ate, burped, was changed...as if my own mother never had kids! Finally, Newgrandma said, "everything is fine, you go have fun and let me get back to my granddaughter!" (The inflection was very reminiscent of "Maaaahhhhmmmm! I'm fiiiinnnnne. Leave me alooooone!")

To my defense, I only did call once, and we stayed out a good portion of the night. But, leaving her...even with those I trust, is going to take some getting used to.

I Suck at Burping

I remember it clearly: I was eleven years old watching "Revenge of the Nerds." Dudley "Booger" Dawson just beat Ogre in the belching contest at the Adams College Greek Festival. As an eleven year old, I was pretty good at belching myself...college was going to be awesome.

And now burping seems to be one of my fatherhood flaws. Not me burping, of course, but burping my daughter. I feed her an ounce or two, put her over my shoulder to try to burp her...nothing. I hold her in the "seat" position and try to burp her...nothing. I figure maybe she doesn't have to burp, and continue feeding her, and then hear from the other room "She needs to burp...don't start feeding her again!." Aargh!

AND, for some reason, whenever I burp her, I end up having to burp! I am totally doing this wrong. Booger would be so disappointed.

Irony Can Be Pretty Ironic

Have you ever felt as if the world was trying to tell you something? Why have I heard "Parents Just Don't Understand" by D.J. Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince four times since my daughter was born? I don't think I had heard that song four times in the last ten years combined!

OK, rub it in my face, I'm growing up. I rapped that song at my Bar Mitzvah (I realize how sad that is.) And now, I can really see that parent's side of the situation. I would be really pissed off if, while Newmommy and I were on a week's vacation, my daughter ever took the keys to my brand new Porsche! Are they hers? Umm, well, of course not! (However, on the ride home, I don't know if Newmommy and I would take turns beating her while the other's driving.)

If she picked up a twelve year old runaway, we would have bigger problems.

No More Infant Cell Phones

Yet again, my big mouth asks a seasoned parent for helpful advice, and yet again I am thrown in the midst of a simple-issued-turned-parenting-controversy. This week: Pacifiers.

"I would never give my kid a pacifier...parents who use a physical object to calm down their kids aren't really parents."

"Pacifiers are good! Why let a kid cry all night if all they want to do is have a sucking sensation? Plus, pacifiers are known to reduce incidents of SIDS!"

"Shampoo is better, I go on first and clean the hair." "Conditioner is better, I leave the hair silky and smooth!" "Oh really, fool!"

Fact is, I am a bad parent because I have not yet picked an "issue." So, here goes...I am staunchly anti-cell phones for infants. Now, I know what you're thinking. Cell phones help infants gain communication skills. Plus, with all of the video games on cell phones, it helps hand-eye coordination. If you think that, you shouldn't even have kids.

First, cell phones really interfere with feedings. How often have you tried to feed your infant, and they're talking away on their phones? Then, milk spills on the phone, risking electric shock! Second, babies do not have the cognitive ability to stay below their allotted minutes, or to differentiate between days, nights and weekends. Therefore, they blow right through their anytime minutes...and us parents end up paying the overages! Finally, and I don't mean to be ageist, but babies have the stupidest ringtones. "The Wheels on the Bus" was never meant to tell someone they have a phone call.

Same goes for giving blackberries to infants. Unless, of course, they need it for work. Then I guess it's OK.

P.S. Do I smell a subway series??

I'd Like to Buy a Conversation

I hadn't seen Wheel of Fortune in a while, and I notice that now, during the bonus round, they give you six letters automatically, and have you pick an additional four. This is a good system as it gets rid of the riff-raff letters that everyone picks so that you can focus on the real stuff.

With Rosh Hashanah approaching, I imagine I will be seeing quite a few family members and friends whom I have not seen or spoken to over the past two weeks. I am going to take the Wheel of Fortune approach and eliminate the conversation I'd otherwise be bound to repeat over and over again by handing out cards with the following:

• It's good to see you, too. It has been a while.
• Yes we did, last Friday night.
• A girl.
• 7 lbs, 10 oz. 20 inches.
• C-section.
• Yeah, but she did really well...I was so impressed with her.
• Fine, she's healing nicely.
• No, I haven't gotten much sleep.
• About a week and a half, I went back this week.
• We really should, we don't live that far apart.

L'Shana Tova everyone! (If applicable, otherwise, happy weekend.)

Book Report: "Guess How Much I Love You"

[Spoiler Warning: I give away the ending in this post. Please do not read if you would like to remain in suspense.]

The classic "Guess How Much I Love You" by Sam McBratney shows the difficult struggles of young rabbits as they are constantly one-upped by those in a position of power. In this story, Big Nutbrown Hare engages in a pissing contest with Little Nutbrown Hare to see who loves the other more. No matter what LNH says, BNH has an answer...."I love you as far as I can reach," says LNH. "Well, I'm bigger and I love you as far as I can reach," replies BNH. You cheer for LNH at the climax when LNH realizes that nothing can be higher than the moon...."I love you all the way up to the moon," he says.

His efforts are immediately blanked by BNH, "I love you all the way up to the moon...and back, fool!"

Ah, but there is a good reason for your children to rest easy at the end. Little do people know that Big Nutbrown Hare is actually the Trix rabbit. In "Guess How Much I Love You II", BNH's efforts to get a bowl of cereal are rejected by Little Nutbrown Boy who says, "Silly Rabbit, Trix are for kids."

Guesswork in a White Coat: Teacher's Edition

"Principal Skinner: Um, ladies and gentlemen, the unthinkable has happened. Some sick, twisted individual has stolen every teacher's edition in this school.
Teacher: What'll we do!?
Ms. Krabapple: Declare a snow day!
Teacher: Does anyone know the multiplication table?
Skinner: No, please, don't panic. They can smell fear."
- From "The Simpsons: Separate Vocations"

I present below the teacher's edition to Thursday's post, "Guesswork in a White Coat" ...answers provided by the Pediatrician...

Do you clean the area around the umbilical cord before it falls off?
Pediatrician SAYS {in my best Richard Dawson voice}: You can if you want, but it is not necessary.

Do you wake a sleeping baby to feed?
Jim J. Bollock: "Yes." Pediatrician: "Disagree, unless she's gone four hours without feeding. But, most likely, you won't have to wake her up by then." Circle gets a square.

To supplement breastfeeding, should you use a bottle?
Stop! Stop at a Whammy.... (The Pediatrician actually said yes, but I couldn't think of a good way to tie-in Press Your Luck, arguably the greatest gameshow of all time.)

Good Parenting Volume 2: Sushibaby!

In honor of Newmommy's triumphant return to the world of sushi, I have added a sushi-link to the "Things to Teach Your Kids" section, as well as the picture below. Newmommy and I took this picture (on our honeymoon) at Sushi Blues on the island of Kuaui.

This is a fine example of introducing your child to world cuisines at a young age. (And, apparently beer...not so sure about that one! "Can I be a boozehound? Not 'till your fifteen....")


P.S. No, this is not The Baby Formerly Known as Bud. (Still working on a nickname.)

Guesswork in a White Coat

"They don't know what their doing, it's all guesswork in a white coat." - George Carlin on Doctors

As I finish up my first week as a parent, I have learned many lessons. First, my daughter is not really interested in what I do for a living, because she falls asleep every time I talk to her about it. Second, when your wife asks you to do something, telling her that I "have to do everything around here" is not a good response. Third, there are NO straight answers to parenting questions.

I have so many questions regarding how to take care of my daughter, and I can't seem to get a straight answer on any of them. Between the nurses in the hospital, the OB, the pediatrician at the hospital (not our regular pediatrician), the Grandparents Committee and Newmommy's friends, I've received conflicting opinions on even the most simple questions.

Do you clean the area around the umbilical cord before it falls off?
Nurses at the hospital: No
Pediatrician at the hospital: Yes.

Do you wake a sleeping baby to feed?
Nurse in the C-Section OR: No.
Nurse in the post-partum ward: Yes.
Pediatrician: No at night, yes during the day.

To supplement breastfeeding, should you use a bottle?
Pediatrician: Yes.
Other doctor in the post-partum ward (and nurses): No, cup feed instead, as the baby may get "Nipple Confusion." (So, "Nipple Confusion" is NOT taking home the wrong girl after a drunk night out.)

I guess I shouldn't be surprised. The medical profession is a lot like the legal profession in that there are practicioners who have different professional opinions. I just thought that such essential (and basic-sounding questions) would have some agreed-upon answers.

We have our first appointment with our real pediatrician today. We've met with her and respect her position on a lot of issues, so my view is to let her get the deciding vote on all of this.

Anatomy of a Delivery

Sorry for the recent post delay, but as you can imagine, the last four days have been a whirlwind for your humble narrator. The delivery went something like this:

Thursday:

1pm: Went to Newmommy's OB appointment. OB told us that Newmommy was to be induced Friday morning, and we'd be spending the night in the hospital.

10pm: Checked into the hospital. After getting situated, I folded out the Craftmatic Chair-that-turns-into-a-bed-but-"chair"-and-"bed"-are- overstatements and "tried" to sleep. Newmommy, noticing my pain on the chair says, "you look uncomfortable." Mind you, she was in a hospital bed with an IV drip which was put in after two unsuccessful attempts. Yes, I was very comfortable.

Friday:

2am: Assistant to the assistant anesthesiologist wakes us up to explain epidural risk factors and asks us to sign a consent form. Good legal question: is a consent form signed while a person is half-asleep and strapped to a hospital bed with an IV binding?

5am: Induction begins.

10am: Contractions begin. After about ten minutes, I sit down and draft a letter:

Dear Y Chromosome,
I know I don't say this very often, but thanks for being there for me.
Love,
Newdaddy

10:20am: Epidural begins. Newmommy writes a similar letter to the anesthesiologist.

11am: "Maury" comes on the TV. It's an episode about 14 year-olds who want to have babies against their parent's wishes. "Whatever, I do what I want!"

12pm: I go out and get sandwiches for us. Food Services thought that Newmommy was anorexic because she didn't touch the meals they served her.

2pm: The Newgrandparents Committee begins its regular status checks. Status updates were requested every 20 minutes for the next 10 hours.

4pm:
Newdaddy to Doctor: "Why can Newmommy eat ice chips, but not drink water?"
Doctor: "Don't ask questions to which I don't know the answer."
Great.

[N.B.: I realize this paints the wrong picture of our doctor, he actually was great. It was just a funny comment.]

6pm: Dialation continues, but (then-) Bud doesn't descend.

7pm: The doctor gives us a choice: C-Section, or try pushing for three hours and then most likely get the C-Section. In the immortal words of my father: "Duh!"

9pm: Newmommy goes into the OR (with me in scrubs...). I send my Y chromosome another thank-you note.

10:20pm: My daughter arrives! [David Bowie's "Changes" just came on the radio...] This is the part where I say that my daughter was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and looking at her made me melt. But, I promised I wouldn't do that, so I wont.

The remainder of the weekend (actually, until today, when we came home) was devoted to visits, and adjusting to my daughter's (lack of) sleep schedule. Still have a lot more adjustin' to do. But, that was to be expected as I was warned....

IT'S A GIRL!!!!

Bud was born today (I guess technically yesterday, September 8), and she's beautiful! She was born at 10:20pm, 7lbs 10oz. Newmommy was a rock star in delivery, but that was to be expected.

(I realize now that despite my view on gender-neutral language, Bud may not be the best nickname for a girl, so I may need to call her something different for purposes of this blog.)

I'll write more after I have gotten some sleep.

...and Bud is getting Laaaaaarger

Apparently, even before birth, my child is already a lot like me; preferring a well-planned out event to spontaneity. Newmommy is five days past her due date, Bud's clocking in at about eight pounds and the good doctor has recommended that Newmommy get induced.

So, forget what I expected: us waking up at 3 in the morning, her screaming in pain, me packing the rest of our hospital bag like a maniac...and then driving to the hospital backward because my teenage son who failed his driver's test took the car out on a joyride the night before, and some drunk guy stole it, smashed it up and puked in it...

Instead, Bud has his first Palmpilot entry: birth at 8am.

P.S. Newmommy has selected the following movies for our overnight bag:

• "Stewie Griffin, the Untold Story"
• "Wedding Crashers"
• "The 40 Year Old Virgin"
• "Mean Girls"
• "Old School"

Man, I love this chick.

My Milkshake Is Better Than Yours

"Oh...and not once did I have to leave the house at 2am to get a pint of Ben & Jerry's double-mocha-banana split ice cream with a bag of gummy bears for mixin'." - me on Thursday

I spoke too soon. (Well, almost.)

Newmommy has not had many cravings during her now-40 week, two day pregnancy. There has only been one: a chocolate milkshake from Tom's diner on 112th and Broadway (the one from Seinfeld and the Suzanne Vega song), served in a large metal diner-style cup, so thick that when you pour it, a little bit will run out followed by a thump of chocolate ice cream.

So, last night, figuring that she had not quenched this craving, and because we needed something to take our mind off Bud's reluctance to meet his parents, we decided to travel into Manhattan for dinner and this very special milkshake.

We got to our table and ordered. Newmommy ordered a chocolate milkshake, to which the waitress responded: "I am sorry, we're out of chocolate ice cream." Newmommy went through the five stages of grieving in about 30 seconds, and looked like Clark W. Griswold when he found out that Walley World was closed (she also looked like she wanted to flatten the waitress's nose like Marty Moose).

(In all fairness, we should have done our research; that was so not like us. Newmommy calls our three local Tasti-d-lites before going out just to find out which one is serving the best flavors.)

Newmommy then asked, "What if we got you some chocolate ice cream, could you make the shake?" The waitress laughed, thinking she was joking. She wasn't. So, off I was to the D'agistino's on 110th for a pint of Ben & Jerry's chocolate ice cream. I get to the line and, of course, every Columbia undergrad starting classes today was stocking their fridge. It was like a scene out of "Not Another Teen Movie:"

"Excuse me ladies and gentlemen. There's a girl at Tom's diner, who is pregnant. If she doesn't get her chocolate shake served in a large metallic cup, she may leave me, and take my unborn child with her!"

I finally got the ice cream, and, sure enough, Tom made his special shake. Watching Newmommy drink it was like watching the end of "Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle."

I guess I'll never know what happens when you don't fulfill a pregnant woman's craving. But, you know what, that's probably an experience I could do without.

A Ten-Pound Dump

What does it feel like to deliver a baby? Our birthing instructor described it as taking a "ten-pound dump." I thought I'd share that visual with you.

I realize this is a strange question for a man to ask. Rather than ask the question, I should be thankful that I never have to know the answer. However, Bud is due today (technically, yesterday), and neither Newmommy nor I have any idea what to expect. How is this whole process supposed to begin? The doctors, books, etc. all are pretty vague on the subject: they talk about contractions, cramps, "bloody show" (which sounds like a horror flick)...but knowing when all of these factors are leading to delivery..."she'll know it when it happens."

I guess I can understand that. Try to describe how you feel before you actually do take a dump (whether or not it is ten pounds.) It's hard to describe, isn't it? But....you know it when it happens.

And while we're on the subject....

The Waiting Game Sucks...Let's Play Hungry, Hungry Hippos

Newmommy's due date is tomorrow. And in the words of Tom Petty, "the waiting is the hardest part." Newmommy has had contractions that did not lead to active labor for the last week or so.

I know this sounds ridiculous, but I can't wait to have this baby to get my life back on track. Minus the conversations I've had at work and with Newmommy, every conversation I've had over the last few days has been a no-update status report on Bud's arrival.

This is how I feel: have you ever been on a plane eagerly anticipating landing (vacation, can't wait to see someone, etc.)? The plane is scheduled to land in half an hour or so, "the capitan has made his initial decent into the....area...." and then, all of a sudden, the plane stops descending. "This is your capitan speaking...we have some unexplained issue on the runway, we will be in a holding pattern for about 30 minutes, I will give you an update when I have more information."

Damn you! The runway is right there, I can see it....

Thirty minutes go by, still no sign of descent..."sorry folks, up here on the flight deck, looks like its going to be about another thirty minutes...."

That's how I feel: it's a bit frustrating, and to make matters worse, we no longer have a shot at Jeff Foxworthy's $50,000.

So, to pass the time, I found this very amusing.

Newmommy is a Champion

Yes, I realize that I have previously commented on the cheesiness of certain other daddy-blogs. But, as we approach the end of Newmommy's pregnancy, I wanted to recap the expert-style with which she handled her first pregnancy.

Month 1: Rocked out in Montreal for New Year's Eve, despite being extremely tired as the pregnancy took over. (Yes, Montreal...and, yes, it was f-ing cold.)

Month 2: What's with all of those blood tests and other uncomfortable-looking probes??? Ugh...I could never do that.....

Month 4: Took a cruise through the Panama Canal...making a stop to actually go kayaking in Gatun Lake.

Month 5: Watched the Yankees beat the Red Sox (7-3, W: Mussina) at Yankee stadium. (Up and cheering with the rest of us!)

Month 8: Spent an entire wedding on the dance floor (dancing) as other pregnant women whined about swollen feet.

Month 9: Delivering a baby...I mean, I could never do that....(true, she hasn't done that yet, but, just the thought of it...)

Oh...and not once did I have to leave the house at 2am to get a pint of Ben & Jerry's double-mocha-banana split ice cream with a bag of gummy bears for mixin'.

So, a toast to Newmommy....this Bud's for you!

Who Loves You, and Who Do You Love?

Video Clip: Richard Dawson (a.k.a. Damon Killian) involved in what may be an accurate prediction of Newmommy's delivery month.

P.S. Knowing certain unnamed members of my audience may not be so techno-savvy...when text looks like this...it is a link to another website relevant to the text itself. (Knowing this makes this particular post a bit more interesting!)

Chicken Vindaloo Was a Bad Choice

Based on a one-evening study, I can confirm that spicy food and garlic does NOT induce labor. It does, however, induce upset stomach, sour stomach, heartburn, acid indigestion and diarrhea which, although may feel as painful as giving birth (OK, ladies, probably not), did not cause Newmommy to deliver.

This experiment took place Thursday night at our local Indian hotspot. Newmommy, uncomfortable as she enters week number thirty-nine, wanted to test out the rumor that spicy food induces labor. We also heard that garlic induces labor, so we thought a spicy vindaloo dish with garlic naan would be perfect. Dinner at eight, delivery by ten.

Newmommy orders the Chicken Vindaloo, eliciting a warning from the waiter..."that is very spicy, the spiciest thing on our menu....it is a nine out of ten." I'm a big fan of spicy food, and figured I could handle it; Newmommy, I thought, in her normal condition probably could too. However, given that we didn't need another reason for her to be uncomfortable, I suggested we settle on the Tandori Chicken.

Newmommy simply cites Rule #76 of Wedding Crashing: "No excuses. Play like a champion." (Man, I love this chick.)

This Chicken Vindaloo was deadly. The water was flowing, we were sweating, and by the end of the meal, both of our stomachs were on fire. It was delicious, but it was a bad choice.

One hour later, stomach aches...but no baby.
Two hours later and some Tums....no baby.
3:00am...I had some time to catch up on the book I was reading in the bathroom...Newmommy asleep sans contractions.

By 11am Friday (at the office), I was still burping up whatever spice was used in that dish. Conclusion: spicy food and garlic does not induce labor.

Results to be published in "Parents Killing Time Before Childbirth" Magazine.

10 Conversations I'll Be Glad Not to Have Again

Another of the perils of having a pregnant wife is that you tend to have the same conversations over and over. As we reach the middle of Newmommy's thirty-eighth week, I happily anticipate not having to have any of the follow ten conversations again (or, at least until Bud II is conceived):

1. How poorly babyproofed my house is (breakables everywhere, lots of staircases, etc.)
2. "Breastfeeding: when should it end?" (Or the similar conversations: "Is Newmommy Breastfeeding?" and "Breastfeeding is a personal decision, don't let the Boobnazis pressure Newmommy.")
3. Your life is going to change. (In all of its forms, including: "You're going to lose sleep", "Enjoy going out to dinner now", "Don't plan any vacations for a while", etc.)
4. "Is your hospital bag packed?" Yes, my friends...it is.
5. "You're going to be changing lots of diapers...do you know how?" Shit. Literally.
6. "Make sure you help Newmommy...she's going to be very tired!" Will she? Thanks for the marriage tips. You mean Newmommy's not going to be ready to do this all herself? I wish someone told me that before I got into this.
7. "Do you know what the sex is?" (Including the use of 'he' to mean the yet-unknown sex of the baby or whether it is better to find out the sex before the baby is born).
8. "Are you going to take time off from work?" This conversation annoys me solely based on the number of times a day I have it. Yes, I will be taking two weeks off.
9. Any conversation involving a graphic description of the delivery and/or the umbilical cord and/or my involvement in the cutting of the umbilical cord.
10. Any conversation involving the flaws in my plan to get Newmommy to the hospital.

Two Controversial (but Stupid!) Issues: Part 2

"Maybe Lisa's right about America being the land of opportunity, and maybe Adil's got a point about the machinery of capitalism being oiled with the blood of the workers."
- Homer Simpson in "The Simpsons"; "The Crepes of Wrath"

...continued from Last Thursday's post.

Question: do you find out the sex of the child before it is born? Chances are, if you are a parent, you had a decisive "YES" or "NO" by the time you got to that question mark. Somebody explain to me why this is such a controversial topic, because I don't understand.

Newmommy and I made the decision not to find out; it really could have gone either way, but in the end we decided that it would be just more exciting for us to find out when she delivers. When we tell fellow notfinderouters, we usually get a triumphant: "Good!! We didn't find out either and it was SOOOO exciting!! You guys are doing the right thing!!" as if we just validated their religion or something.

To those who did find out, we get a defensive: "Oh...Why not? We found out, and it was just so much easier knowing. Why wouldn't you find out?" ...like we told them that their parenting is wrong.

I don't think our decision not to find out was right, merely right for us. I just don't see why people are so passionate about what seems to me to be a simple personal preference. Like choosing a favorite coffee:"Oh, you like Dunkin' Donuts.....you sick bastard!! Twelve flavors my ass!! They only brew two, and the rest are syrups!! Jerk."

Bad Parenting (or Enjoy Your Last Few Weekends)

(Today's Originally Scheduled Post: "Bad Parenting")

In the spirit of being fair and balanced, I give you an example of bad parenting. Let's play a little game called "What's wrong with this picture?"

Right. The kid is wearing Red Sox gear. Bad parenting. Bad, bad parenting.


(Today's Actual Post: "Enjoy Your Last Few Weekends")

As Newmommy and I approach B-day, lots of people are telling me to "enjoy my last few weekends of freedom."

This weekend, I did.

Friday: Yankees over Red Sox 12-4, 14-11.
Saturday: Yankees over Red Sox 13-5.
Sunday: Yankees over Red Sox 8-5.
Monday: Yankees over Red Sox 2-1.

Good Parenting Volume 1: Wassaaappp!

I'd like to begin a feature on Newdaddy called "Good Parenting" which will highlight exemplary parenting skills. (For example, teaching kids the difference between a filet and New York strip, explaining the finer points of the infield fly rule, etc.)

For my first entry: check out this video. Daddy must be so proud.

True, true.

Baby Beastie Boys

Tonight, Newmommy and I had dinner with an old friend of mine from college who has an 11-month old. We get in his car (with child), and the CD player continues from wherever it left off on Mother Goose's Greatest Hits...or some children's CD. Apparently, he and his wife won't play anything else when the kid's around...and I know they are not alone.

I have been given many warnings about the irritating, repetitive children's music that I'm going to have to put up with....and have been told that I will know the lyrics to "The Wheels on the Bus" better than I knew the lyrics to "Parents Just Don't Understand" eighteen years ago.

But, why is this? Why don't parents just play a mix of kid's songs and whatever the parents enjoy? That way, the kid will learn to appreciate different types of music at an early age.

I imagine that some parents fear 'objectionable' radio material: either the music is too loud, too rough, too obscene for their kids. I can't say I buy that- there are plenty of kid-friendly radio stations.

Do parents play it because the kids demand it? Not at age 11 months! My guess, prediction, hope, is that if I favor Hot Tracks, XM Channel 46 to 'Wheels on the Bus', I may end up with a kid who can appreciate Pink Floyd....

...and then perhaps we can share a doobie.

P.S. I want to thank F-Train for spreading the word about Newdaddy. I urge my readers reader to check out his poker blog.

Bud may be a redneck...

Newmommy's due date puts us in the running for a $50,000 prize offered by Country Music Television to the first baby born during the premier of Jeff Foxworthy's new show.

Newmommy has already shot down my idea to auction off naming rights to Bud..."Continental Airlines" would make such a good kid's name. And, hey, if Budweiser won the auction, we wouldn't have to change the name as it is now!

P.S. We have already given dibs on the $1,000 "finder's fee." Sorry.

Something to look forward to...

Not only do current fathers warn me about the perils of fatherhood (my next door neighbor today: "get your sleep in now!"), Yahoo! is now on my case. Apparently, according to them, I have a 10% chance of getting postpartum depression.

From last Monday's HealthDay News:

"Almost as many new fathers as mothers suffer depression after the birth of a child, a new study shows. About 14 percent of mothers and 10 percent of fathers showed signs of moderate or severe postpartum depression, according to the study, which followed more than 5,000 members of two-parent families."

Read the article.

Orientation

Admittedly, I am not much of a blogger. I tried one once, posted three posts, realized I wasn't so into it, and pulled the thing down.

A good friend of mine is an avid blogger, and is the author of a very popular blog. (I don't want to give away his anonymity, maybe later...) We got to talking about Newmommy's pregnancy (she's beginning her 37th week) and how many funny, strange, quirky things a man has to go through during the process. He thought that would be a good topic for a blog, so I figured I'd give it a try.

I searched the web to see if this has been done. Lots of "New Father" blogs that broke down into three categories:

(1) "I love my child" blogs. "[My baby] is the snuggliest, loviest, blessing I have ever received." Nothing wrong with loving your kids...but these blogs tend to be cheesier than a large Domino's.

(2) Minute-by-Minute My Baby is...blogs. "3:15pm. My baby just peed on me." "3:17pm. My baby just moved an arm." I'll call CNN.

(3) Helpful tips. "Use Pampers deluxe 425 instead of 426 because the fabric on the tush is softer." Again, nothing wrong with that, but I'd like a different theme.

I want this blog to be about the experiences a dad goes through as a dad. I don't want to make you sick with how much I love my kid, or be a resource to fathers about the products available. I want to focus on the important stuff...that's why I put up some MLB links so that people can easily go from here to sites that will be helpful in raising their kids.

Who am I kidding? When the kid comes, I probably won't have time for this.

Two Controversial (but Stupid!) Issues: Part 1

"MRS. MOORE: Is it a boy or a girl?"
"OBSTETRICIAN: Now, I think it's a little early to start imposing roles on it, don't you?"
- From Monty Python's "The Meaning of Life"

You may have noticed that in my last post, I referred to Bud as a "he." No, we have not found out the sex. I am using "he" as a gender-neutral pronoun. Apparently, that is no longer acceptable.

Some say you should replace "he" with "he or she"...that seems like a waste of breath. Alternating between "he" and "she" (a la Babycenter) is just plain confusing, and the use of "they", a plural pronoun, in place of "he," is grammatically incorrect.

Yet, whenever I refer to Bud as "he"...it is usually followed by "Oh, you know the sex?" or "it could be a she!"

According to tonight's conductor of the A train...and I am going to take this as historic fact...in 1984, the Minnesota legislature ordered all of the gender-specific text of their statutes to be amended to be gender neutral.....it took two years to complete!

So, I'm going to keep saying "he"...as in the end, it will be less costly on taxpayers.

Now, whether you should find out the sex of your baby...that's a controversial issue.

TO BE CONTINUED....

P.S. Congratulations to K.C. for sweeping the Red Sox!!!

Bud's Crib....seriously.

Bud's not even born yet...and he's already displaced me from my former home office...

Elihu...will you come loofah my stretch marks?

Newmommy is 36 weeks pregnant. According to the hostess at the diner...and I am going to take this as a medical fact...if Newmommy has not gotten stretch marks by now, she's not going to get them. Nice.

I thought stretch marks were a post-pregnancy thing. Your skin stretches as the baby grows, and suddenly, when the baby is gone, the "loose" skin shows signs of stretching. Guess I was wrong- how naive of me.

Now, why I was talking to the hostess at the diner about stretch marks is another story altogether. And I'll let you know when I figure that one out.

your life is going to change

Nothing elicits stupid comments from total strangers more than telling them you're expecting a child. Admittedly, women have this much worse...Newmommy (or, more accurately, Almostnewmommy), in the worst of the recent oppressive heat wave, was given the very helpful advice not to stay outside for too long. (Please, anyone who can figure out the mechanics to get pregnant in the first place should be able to figure that out). She's been told over five hundred times she's carrying a girl...over a thousand it's a boy, and has been given breast feeding tips from women who have not breastfed since the Truman administration.

To a man, however, its always the same comment..."Your life is going to change."

Just so you know...I am aware of this. I've seen the movies...It's 3:12am...I have the big presentation at 9...The baby's crying..."Honey, it's your turn", blah, blah....

To the defense of some, it is often followed up with "It's great, but, your life is going to change." More often, however, it's "get those nights out, nights of sleep, movies, etc. in now."

It scares me...not so much because of the truth of the statement...I do realize that my life will change. Rather, the focus seems wrong. When I (and probably every man) got married, I was scared. Scared because I knew EXACTLY what (more accurately, who) I would be giving up. However, other than the fact that I was getting Newmommy for the rest of my life, I didn't know what it was going to be like. No wonder it's scary...you live your life every day and suddenly it's totally different. However, on THIS side of the wedding, I can tell young engaged guys that, if you have indeed found the right woman, you're getting more than you are giving up.

So, shouldn't the same be true with having children? Shouldn't the experienced fathers be telling me that I should be looking forward to a general life improvement, and not focus on the loss? Is it that most guys just don't enjoy being fathers? Or is it the same BS hazing-the-new-guy that we got before starting high school. I hope it's the latter.