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.

L'il Lenin

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Hall of Lost Stuff

Tonight we salute my old pair of glasses. I purchased them in August of 2001, right after the bar exam, and right before I started working at my former firm. Through those glasses, I saw a lot: Europe, my honeymoon, late nights at the office...but, alas, I will see through those glasses no more. Their fate was met at the hands of my daughter last week, when she grabbed the glasses off my face, shook them, and broke one of the arms off. Godspeed, glasses.

Short post, I know...Cablevision is giving a preview of the MLB package and, where as before I was only watching one game, I can now watch three or more. Awesome. But completely unnecessary.

Keep Her Off the Pole

"They don't grade fathers, but if your daughter's a stripper...you f-ed up!" - Chris Rock

My route home from work brings me past a strip club. (It's not as sketchy as it sounds...it's Manhattan.) As I walked past this evening, I saw a young woman entering, with a cup of coffee in hand, saying hi to the bouncers as if she was beginning her work day. And she was.

That's scary for any father. And, I happen to agree with Chris Rock, if your daughter is a stripper, you are a bad father. I'm not saying that fathers of strippers are worthless human beings...they can be good at other things..., nor am I passing judgment on the valuable service these young women provide, but one of the few definitive tests for being a bad father is..."does my daughter give lap dances to 'Pour Some Sugar On Me'"?

Is there any definitive tests of being a good father? I doubt it...it's much easier to be a bad father. I just wonder if there are any signs that I can look at 10, 15, 20 years from now...point to and say, "there, you see that....I succeeded."

Maybe I should start with giving Bud a better nickname?

P.S. Did Jack Bower spend last night's entire episode changing clothes?

Is This New?

Bud's been making this fish-face. I'm not sure what it is, but it's really cute. I saw it for the first time this morning and asked Newmommy, "is this new?" Then I realized how depressing it is that I have to ask her that. But, what am I going to do? I saw Bud (awake) Tuesday morning before I left for work, and then didn't see her again until Thursday night...and then it was only for 40 minutes or so. It's hard, because I know I am doing exactly what I should be doing for Bud...going to work...but it's still tough going long stretches without seeing her, and then having to ask Newmommy if the fish-face is new.

Although, there was a major accomplishment....Bud rolled over tummy-to-back today! Now, Newnana and Newgrampy said that they saw this a few weeks ago, and so did Newmommy, but it doesn't count until I see it.

Double It!

Here's an e-mail exchange between me and a buddy of mine with whom I'm planning an April trip to Las Vegas. (Although, I should point out...it's not a Mancation.) Let's call him Urbandaddy.

Newdaddy: Maybe I should bring [Bud] to Vegas.

Urbandaddy: If you do, I'm putting her on red.

Newdaddy: Please don't. I don't want to lose her, but I don't want to double her either!

Super-bowel I

It's Superbowl Sunday (sorry, I don't have a licence to use that term....it's "Big Game" Sunday), and "of course there's bets being made...it's the Superbowl!" Before we get into the prop bets for today, I wanted to congratulate Bud on her first road trip. Just call me Clark W. Griswald: we drove about three and a half hours from the NY area to Columbia, Maryland to visit friends. Sure, Bud came down with a cold while we were there, but we managed to drive there on Friday and back today with no issues. Of course, when Newmommy was asleep on the ride back, Cristine Brinkley and I....well, that's another story.

OK, so on to today's superbowl bets.

#1: "Superbowel": What will come first, a touchdown or a diaper change?

#2: What will be my first mid-game interruption? (a) Baby-related, (b) wife-related, (c) pizza-delivery-guy related, (d) other.

#3: What will be advertised in the first commercial with a baby in it? (a) Something computer related, (b) something food related, (c) beer, (d) other.

#4: Will the team that is winning when Bud goes to sleep win the game?

...well, I should have started this earlier, as Bud is now getting sick of her Jumperoo. Well...I will post the results tomorrow.

Baby-fish-mouth is Sweeping the Nation

Yeah, I quoted from "When Harry Met Sally." Whatcha gonna do?

Anyway, a word to the wise while you're "babytalking" to your child...take note of who is in the room with you. For example, it is not appropriate to say to your daughter: "who's my favorite girl?" while you're in the room with your wife, sister and mother.

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.

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!

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"?

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!

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...

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.

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!

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.