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...
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
BOOOYAHH!!!
(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).
Monday, September 24, 2007
I'm a Rock Star
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.
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.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Three-Year-Old Games of the Twenty-First Century
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.
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.
Monday, September 17, 2007
I'm Drinking Milk...and One Day I'll Be Big and Strong
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?
Coincidence?
Saturday, September 15, 2007
What Am I, Chopped Liver?
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."
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Of Love and Nausea
"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?
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?
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Friday, September 07, 2007
Not-So Newdaddy
[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.
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.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
The Cutting Room Floor
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!
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!
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