Fruncle Rules

Would you let this man hold your baby?

My two best friends are coming to town this weekend. I couldn't be more excited for them to meet my daughter and have them share in the joy of her smiles, her cooing, and her crying at 4:30 AM...

But as their visit approaches, I realize I desperately need to create a set of rules for "Fruncles" (Friend-Uncles). These laws are especially important for those Fruncles who have yet to experience the joy of children.

What follows is my attempt at a universal set of rules that new dads everywhere can pass out to their "un-babied" friends. * Yes, I am giving babied a new meaning. "Babied"; Used to describe a male who has recently undergone an inevitable and drastic shift in his entire world due to the birth of his first child. I've totally been "babied"*

So, without further ado, I present my first attempt at the "Fruncle Rules" (though I'm quite sure I'll have a few more rules after this weekend when my friends remind me what un-babied 20-something men are like...)

Rule #1: Pigskin problems

There is a method of carrying a baby called the "football hold". This does not mean you should do the Heisman pose while toting the baby or pretend she is a football in any way. You will be banned from ever holding her again. (Rule can sometimes be ignored if mother is out of the room and football is on the TV)

Rule #2: Failure to Flatulate

Babies fart.

A lot.

However, it should be noted that mothers generally don't find these gaseous eruptions hysterically funny (surprisingly). A chuckle and wink to your buddies is sufficient. If you make a huge deal out of the tiny baby's booming buttocks, your friend will get the "I've always hated these fools" look from his wife, and your next invitation may not come for awhile.

Rule #3: No. You are not allowed to watch.

Breastfeeding is not a "free show".

Rule #4: Shut up. Seriously.

You are positively not allowed to brag or complain about the part of your life that you and your friends used to talk about for hours on end. He doesn't want to hear it.

Rule #5: Helping hands.

When women visit they like to carry the baby, remark on how cute she is, and speak in silly baby voices.

You should not feel obligated to carry the baby, especially if you will not be able to obey Rule #1 or are afraid you might break, drop, or permanently scar the child.

However, remarking on how cute the baby is will win you points with the baby's mom.

Entertaining the baby with silly voices will win you points with your current significant other, if she is around, possibly leading to the aforementioned unmentionable events from rule #4...

Rule #6: Change is gonna come...

Your friend will be different. I am not sure exactly how, it could just be a shaggy beard, an extra fifteen pounds, and gigantic bags under his eyes or it could be a complete shift in priorities. But he will be different. You have to love him anyway. But, as always, you don't need to express that love in anything more than a hand-shake man-hug combo.

Rule #7: All-nighters are all-gone

Your friend is not going to stay up past midnight with you. In fact, he may be in bed before ten. But you won't have to wake up at 2:30 and 5:30. Don't make him feel guilty. He wants to stay up but doing so might disturb the delicate balance of sleep he manages to get by going to bed at ten...(all four hours of it)

Rule #8: Plan Ahead and plan on being disappointed.

If you want to do anything with your friend, a quick trip to the movies or a weekend long visit, you better do some advance planning. Life is more complicated with a baby. It was one thing for your friend to spring a visit on his wife when it was just the two of them. If he did it now, you would be dooming him to at least ten back-rubs, four fancy dinners, and five manicures before she forgave him. Just call like two months in advance and don't be surprised if he says he's already busy.

Rule #9: Baby comes first.

No matter what. You'll understand when you have one.

That's all for now. I'm gearing up for the Fruncle arrival in t-minus 4 hours. I've swathed the baby in bubble wrap, rubbed my wife's feet, and warmed up the x-box. I'm sure these Fruncle Rules were completely unnecessary but Rule #10 is that Dad's are overprotective of their baby girls.

Natalie put on a big smile and get ready to learn that Fruncle's Rule.

Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks were "Whimpy in Seattle"

Attack of the Restless Baby!!!

If you're thinking...

"Hey, Josh, where are those mildly entertaining and somewhat disturbing blog entries you used to write?"

I invite you to my house where Natalie has decided she can no longer sleep through most of the night. Apparently waking up at 12:30 and 3:30 is preferable. The past few nights I've caught "Eddie Murphy Raw", bad science fiction, and sports scores at 4 am, while comforting Natalie back to dreamland and trying to allow Sara an extra hour or two of sleep.

All I have to do is stumble through diaper changes, feedings, and silly songs, (made sillier by my lack of sleep) but she has to make important decisions that could shape the mail industry as we know it...

So if your postage machine suddenly becomes completely impossible to interpret, you can blame Natalie, who decided she really wanted to catch the late night showing of Rollerball...

Baby Talk

"Ah-goo, Daddy, Ah-gooooo!"






We've all seen one of those TV shows or movies where some alien or primitive race uses one word or a grunt to express all manner of things. (Admit it. You liked it too...Deep down we're all suckers for stuff like this...it's not just me that's the dork here...is it?).

Well, I'm suing all those producers for stealing the idea from Natalie and babies everywhere.

My darling daughter's vocabulary currently consists of various vowel sounds and dramatic grunts, the most notable of which is her adorable and constant "Ah-goo". (Apparently this is one of the first vocalizations beyond a simple vowel that many babies utter. Scientists have theorized that babies make this sound because of its inherent cuteness, enabling them to lull adults into a false sense of security before completely taking over their world...)

Though at first it might seem that "Ah-goo" is a meaningless quip, I've used my baby-language converter (it sits on a shelf next to my wife-language converter) to weed out the complexities of Natalie's so called babbling.

1. A-goo: "What-up?"
2. Ah-goo, Ah-goo: "I'm hungry"
3. Ahhhhhh-goo: "I just peed"
4. Ah-gooooo: "Listen up!"
5. Ah-goo followed by a grunt: "I need to poop"
6. Ah-goo followed by a devilish smile: "I pooped, now clean it up"
7. Ah-goo followed by a raspberry: "What-Ever!"
8. Ah-goo, A-wa, Ah-goo: "I could use a stiff drink"
9. Ah-goo, your mamma, Ah-goo: "Your mother is my grandmother. I would never disparage her with one of those lame 'your momma' jokes that you and your loser friends found funny in high-school. God dad, you are sooo embarrassing.
10. Ah-goo, oooo, Ah-goo: "Isn't the Gerber baby dreamy?" (Is the Gerber baby a boy or girl?...)
11. Ah-Ah-Ah-goo: "Hold on, it's on the tip of my tongue."
12. Ah-goo-goo: "I wanna party!"
13. Ah-goo-ba: "You are now under my control. Surrender all mammary glands, rattlely toys, and cuddly stuffed bears, attend to my various demands at all times, and dammit get me Elmo on the phone!"

That's all I've been able to work out so far but I'm sure I'll discover new meanings soon.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to make a phone call to an imaginary puppet...

Ah-goo

Paging Dr. Hoover

As a new parent, navigating the magical and wonderful world of responsibility, I am always on the lookout for new ways to help my child understand and appreciate the subtle truths of society.

Like; People are created equal, love is a powerful and dangerous emotion, and always be on the look-out for short-cuts...

Luckily getting Natalie to sleep has provided an opportunity to demonstrate the final lesson. Don't get me wrong, I'm willing to walk and sway my way along the slow path to serenity if that is what it takes, but if there is some magical swath through the forest of fussy, then my feet will find its cool grass. (Wow...forest of fussy...really?)

So, I've fallen in love with our vacuum.

Natalie has reached the point in her development where she is willing to fight sleep. She'll give clear "sleepy signals" (eye-rubbing, yawning, glassy-eyed looks) and then when I lovingly pick her up and begin rocking her to dream-land (a tactic that worked brilliantly up until a week ago) she squirms and wails and looks at me with great disdain. As if to say, "you better come up with something better than this bucko"

Which brings us back to my new best friend, Mr. Hoover. Apparently babies love white-noise. It's been scientifically proven that this is because while in the womb babies can only get A.M. radio stations on their tiny in-utero boom-boxes and most of the time these stations come in poorly so babies are forced to listen to staticky talk-shows...

Armed with this scientific knowledge, I strap Natalie into her front-carrier and switch on Mr. Hoover. I've always liked vacuuming the most of all chores, probably because the big loud machine makes it feel more manly. Now I have a new reason.

By the time we reach the kitchen, my little bundle of crankiness has floated off on the river of loud but dust-free dreams. The whir of the vacuum like a gigantic baby-Ambien.

The icing on the cake is that when Sara gets home, I can brag about all the vacuuming I got done...(until of course she reads this blog...)

Now if only I can teach Natalie to fall asleep to the sound of clanking dishes, or better yet, the subtle whir of my X-box...

Death of the One-Armed Wonder?

Is this the end of our Hero?!...
(See Previous Blog Entry "One-Armed Wonder")







In what can only be described as a tragic blow to the super-hero community, the "One-Armed Wonder" may be dead.

The little-known super-hero was perhaps best remembered for his ability to clutch his sidekick the "Super-Dooper-Pooper", while simultaneously relieving himself. The duo's epic defeat of "Captain Diaper-Rash" by using the "Hair-Dryer-of-Glory", is also a noted accomplishment.

The One-Armed Wonder's super-friend and disgruntled wife, "Engineering Momma", had this to say, "Really?! He's writing another blog entry about this? What a dope. I can't believe I have entrusted the care of Natalie to him. And, no, I will not call her the "Super-Dooper-Pooper". God, what a moron."

It had been rumored for months that Engineering Momma was under the "Grumptatious Curse" of "Sargent Sleeps-so-Little" and it appears those unfortunate whispers are true.

While many mourn the death of the "One-Armed Wonder", others claim that he and the "Super-Dooper-Pooper" have simply evolved into a Voltron like super-hero; a singular entity seen above, which is currently being called "Pappa-Kangaroo", a name that seems destined to strike fear and confusion into the hearts of evil-doers everywhere.

Have our heroes bonded together in a new and more powerful way? Will Engineering Momma divorce the One-Armed Wonder? Can anyone stop this string of lame blogs?...

Only time will tell. Only time will tell.

Tune in next week for the Third Episode: "Pappa-Kangaroo and the Couch of Misfortune"