AKA

Noodles...WHAT?!

I grew up in NH. I am Scottish. I am really, really white. But my friends and I grew up listening to Wu-Tang Clan, one of the most popular and raunchy rap groups of our time. Now that we are older and more mature we regularly make references to those days long ago and giggle like thirteen year old girls. Seriously, we're pretty cool.

Before Natalie was born, we were engaged in such a giggle-fest while discussing her name. Since we didn't know if she'd be a boy or a girl we needed something ambiguous to call her in the meantime...we settled on "Noodles", a reference to an old Wu-tang song in which they list off countless nicknames. I don't know exactly how and I don't know exactly why but we found it uproariously funny.

In deference to Wu-tang and for the sake of posterity I am posting all the nickname's Natalie has accrued in her first 8 months.

Noodles
AKA
The Pea
AKA
Squirmy Worm
AKA
Yoopie
AKA
The poop machine
AKA
Yooper-uni
AKA
Natalie-bo-batalie
AKA
Peaches
AKA
Worm-face
AKA
Milk-face
AKA
Giggles
AKA
Silly-billy-goat
AKA
Chubby Cheek-ers
AKA
Madame Mc-Poops
AKA
Pea-Head
AKA
Big-Baby Worm
AKA
Babble-onian princess
AKA
Diaper Dandy
AKA
Super-dooper-pooper
AKA
Peaches
AKA
Cuddles
AKA
Doll-face
AKA
Baby Awesome-o

That's all I got for now...I'm glad I am writing this blog so that some day she'll look back and realize just how cool and not at all lame her daddy is...

Consumer Confusion

There are lots of Diaper Cremes out there...Choose wisely.

As a man, (yes my Y chromosome is intact) it's soldered into my DNA to hate shopping. Like all men before, I've learned the steps to successful purchasing...

1. Walk into store
2. Locate desired item
3. Ignore any alternatives to said item
4. Pay for item
5. Leave store

This five step program helped me mitigate the large consumer world for the first 28 years of my life. Sure, there were shopping trips with my mom and sister when I was growing up that nearly killed me, but I survived those long tedious afternoons and thought they were gone forever.

Then we had Natalie. Luckily, through the generous nature of friends and family, we haven't had to do much clothes shopping but I've discovered, through trial and error, that the manufacturers of all baby related items assume that women are making the purchases.

For example, the other day I had to buy some nipples, (are you expecting me to make a joke here? You should have learned by now that this blog is above such low-brow humor and I would never make any kind of joke about buying nipples) so I entered the store and proceeded with the five step program. I found the nipple section of the store, (I was secretly hoping they'd have a whole aisle labeled "nipples" so I could take a picture and send it to my other mature friends) located the specific nipples we needed for the specific bottle we use. This task was difficult for my tiny male shopping brain cell because there are 349 different brands of bottles and nipples. But I got the brand of nipples we use and headed for the checkout.

I decided I needed something manly to divert attention from the fact that I was buying nipples, so I purchased a sports magazine and a bottle of Mountain Dew. "Take that!, judgemental checkout girl" I said to myself.

The next day I woke up fully prepared to boil the previously purchased nipples (you have to boil nipples before you use them) and put them in our nipple rotation, weeding out some of the older nipples intended for younger and less awesome babies than Natalie.

As I began to rip open the package of nipples, I saw a small but vibrant word on the cardboard backing..."Advanced". My tiny male shopping brain cell groggily rolled out of bed and stared transfixed at this word, confused by its meaning. At first, he surmised, it must mean this is for more advanced babies but then he sadly realized that this particular nipple was meant for our brand of bottle but not for the subset of bottles within our brand. The brain cell cursed and many interested onlooking brain cells, which included a pack devoted to baseball box scores and another extremely large group who were only interested because they heard the word nipple, turned to see what was happening.

So now I need to go back to the store and find the right brand of nipples and the right subset within that brand. I see this type of thing happening many more times as Natalie gets older. A mother would have read the label, read the back cover, seen if the nipple came in any different colors, and found a sales clerk to ask if any generic brand nipples fit our particular bottle. In other words, she would have followed the complex female shopping constitution that is too long for any man to understand. But she would have bought the right nipple in the first place.

In related news, we are going shopping this weekend. Luckily, however, my brain cell and I aren't worried. Sara is coming, which means he'll just have to wake up every so often and agree that whatever item she picked out is perfect. Then we can go back to thinking about box scores and other manly things.

Tiny Devil

This is my dog, I call him Cerberus

In what can only be described as an extremely disturbing development, Natalie has begun making a deep guttural grunting noise that would fit perfectly in a twisted Steven King novel about a possessed baby. In response, I've invested in some holy water, a cross, and a really cool ghost-buster back-pack...she does kind of resemble the stay-puff marshmallow man...

The Dangers of Dad-dom

Attack of the Baby!

No one said it was going to be easy. I heard the horror stories of sleepless nights and fifteen diapers-a-day but there were some things I wasn't quite prepared for...some silent but deadly dangers, often specific to stay-at-home dads, that have been overlooked. No longer.

1. Not-the-momma: While you can argue all you want that stay-at-home dads can do just as good a job as stay-at-home moms, there are some things we just can't do. For instance, If I want to take Natalie someplace I need to think about and prepare a food source, since I lack the necessary mammary glands and accompaniments.

2. Daytime drama: As human beings we crave stories, especially those with recurring characters, good and bad guys, and drama. Thus far, I've managed to avoid daytime drama's (otherwise known as Soaps) because I fear watching them might actually result in the growth of previously mentioned accompaniments (although one could also argue that would be a very good reason to watch). I need the baseball season to start so I have box scores to read and games to watch but until then I've settled on the daily drama that is the democratic primary race...

3. Fatherhood fifteen: Every college graduate knows about the "freshman fifteen", the weight you gain during your first semester of school, but the fatherhood fifteen is just as deadly. When you stay at home all day snacks are easily accessible and when you have fifteen minutes to make and eat a lunch, frozen burritos sound pretty good...mmmmm...frozen burritos....

4. Random noise generator: When you spend most of your day around an infant, you do and say silly things. And when you're me, you do them all the time. Breaking the habit when venturing out in public becomes difficult. It's one thing when I've got Natalie with me but it probably looks a little odd when I'm waiting in the grocery line making elephant noises, waving my arms wildly, and saying to the check-out girl in a sing-song voice "Do you have my bananas? Yes you do...you like bananas don't you...oh, bananas are tasty...Can you eat a whole banana? I bet you could...you little banana eater."

5. Sleepy stumbles: Recently, after breakfast, I put the milk in the cupboard and the cereal in the fridge. Luckily these sleep-deprived mistakes have not yet extended to putting the baby in the oven and the chicken in the cradle...

6. No, dear, I'm not saying your toes are big...: Dads and Moms are different. Even in a stereotypically reversed marriage like mine, those inherent differences come through. Sara is more "motherly" and at times I find myself infringing upon that natural instinct simply because I'm in charge more often. The outfits I pick don't match, I play too rough, and I worry about the wrong things (like if her throwing arm is developing). It's inevitable that when one parent stays home, the other feels left out, but I think those feelings are stronger when the Mom is the one going to work.

7. Protection: When I stopped playing baseball a few years back I put my protective cup away, sure I'd never need it again...then we had a baby. Her tiny little legs are like a pair of ball pein hammers whacking away haphazardly while I carry her around the house. She is apparently set on being an only child.

Ultimately, the life of a stay-at-home dad is great but let this blog serve as a warning to any prospective fathers. Get healthy now, avoid daytime television, and get that jock out of the closet...you're going to need it.

Random Updates

"I just keep getting cuter"

Natalie keeps growing. Changing at a rate that no mortal blogger could keep up with...or at least no blogger who also has to care for her. What follows is a slew of Natalie updates in convenient Top Ten list form.

10. Bable-on: Natalie is currently a babbling fiend. She spends much of her day telling me her baby-thoughts and I, of course, am happy to listen. What scares me is that this might be a trait that continues into her teenage years. I've decided to start a charitable foundation called "Natalie's Minutes". Please give and help a family avoid going into debt when their daughter starts using a cell-phone.

9. Solid!: Natalie has begun to eat Solid foods. We were hopeful this would help her sleep through the night and if you consider 4am sleeping through the night...it has. So far, applesauce is her favorite. I have invented a new hip diet called the "baby-zone." All you eat is formula and pureed food. You're bound to lose weight because who wants pureed cupcakes?...wait a minute...that sounds pretty good.

8. Rollin', Rollin' Rollin', Rollin'... Rollin'on my belly: While Natalie long ago began rolling from her belly to her back, she recently began to roll from her back to her belly. The first step in making me chase her around the house all day.

7. Circadian Staccato: Natalie continues to defy the standard Circadian rhythm of humankind. During the day she sleeps in fairly predictable patterns but then at night she seems to be teasing us, occasionally sleeping till 4 or later but other times waking multiple times in need of comfort. In response, I've upped my coffee intake to 320 cups a day.

6. Presidential pull-out: Natalie has decided to pull out of the presidential race. While she has many enthusiastic supporters, she ultimately felt she needed to concentrate on learning how to talk, walk, and her acting career. She urges all other "marginal" candidates who've lost 11 contests in a row to drop out as well.

5. First Failure: In a devastating evaluation at her most recent doctor's appointment, Natalie was told her arm strength was pitiful. She has been put on a strict regimen of tummy-time, pull-ups, and protein shakes. We've hired a personal trainer and purchased tiny arm-weights.

4. Natalie will make you...Jump, Jump...: Natalie discovered the wonderful world of her jumper and decided it wasn't so wonderful. However, she is growing to like it and we're confident she'll develop her leaping skills soon, allowing her to participate in next year's slam-dunk contest.

3. Grunting: While she isn't making formal requests, Natalie has discovered that a simple grunt can express a number of things. Such as, "I want that", "Give me that" and "Why haven't you gotten that thing for me yet?!"

2. Out on the town: Natalie has enjoyed adventures to the grocery store, the mall, and the library. I have enjoyed juggling the 63 different things we have to bring every time we take her someplace.

1. Here Kitty, Kitty: Natalie desperately loves our cat Bruce. While Bruce is currently indifferent to Natalie, that may change once she becomes mobile. Her current method of displaying affection is reaching out, grabbing Bruce by the fur, and yanking really hard. Maybe we should just shave Bruce and spare him the pain...

Well, that's a good chunk of what's been going on with Natalie. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go get some more coffee.

My Funny Valentine

Who wouldn't love these silly raspberry-ing women?

My whole life I've only had one Valentine at a time.

Growing up I had my mother. Then in high school I had my mother. Then in college I had my mother...until I finally met Sara in my Junior year.

(Editors Note: Anyone who claims there were any women in-between should know I have Roger Clemens's lawyers on speed dial and they are ready to begin a he said/she said war, which will inevitably end up in front of Congress, since they apparently like to take time out of their schedule to settle stupid inane disputes that have no bearing on the American Public while the country collapses around them)

(Editors note #2: I should also note that I love my mother and called her to say Happy Valentine's Day. Just in case anyone wanted to point out that my mother should always remain my Valentine.)

For the past eight years, I've celebrated Cupid's (and Hallmark's) holiday by wooing Sara and reminding her of my deep and devoted love. I've written poems, I've bought chocolate, I've bought thongs (but most of them didn't fit me quite right). But now I'm torn. Can a man have more than one Valentine? And if Cupid's laws dictate I choose only one, how would I do it?

Simple. A Pro/Con list...or rather just a Pro-list, since I don't want to get into hot water with either of my two women on such a special day. I also want to point out that to write a thorough Pro-list I would need to spend the rest of my life on this single Blog entry, so what follows is a quick and incomplete description...

Let's start with my wife:

1. Known her longer: I have seven and a half more years with my wife and let me add that they were seven and a half wonderful years...(I see you over there, rolling your eyes...)
2. Stimulating conversation: I love to hear Natalie babble but it's hard to debate the current primary race, talk about anything without turning it into a question (Did you poop in your pants?), or not use a effeminate voice.
3. Stimulating: ...
4. Countless Qualities: Too many to number but for the sake of winning brownie points and making her forget #3 here are just a few; Smart, Beautiful, Caring, Devoted, Hard-working, Penguin-like, Kind, Considerate, Able to leap tall buildings...
5. Helps out around the house: While Natalie makes a lot of messes, (not to mention my own contribution to clutter) Sara helps clean them up.
6. Puts up with me: It takes a brave woman to be married to a poet. A. We're notoriously scattered and messy. B. Our money making prospects are about as good as Hillary Clinton's prospects of winning in November (couldn't resist). C. We post blogs and write poems about them and then they get embarrassed or grumpy and we have to remind them that we love them a little more each day and that our life wouldn't be worth living without them and that the couch is really uncomfortable...

Natalie's Pros:

1. Cuteness: Sara is undeniably cute but she will readily admit that her reign as Queen of Cutopolis may have ended the day Natalie entered the world.
2. No-nag factor: Natalie has never asked me to clean up my office, put the seat down, or stop scratching myself...just sayin'
3. Napping: Sara hates naps. It is like some sort of genetic disdain she inherited from her father, which causes them to view naps as an admission of weakness. Natalie on the other hand is very Pro-nap. I stand by her on this issue.
4. Damsel in Distress: What man's heart doesn't break for a woman in need and Natalie is constantly in need. Yes, there are times at 2am where I ponder not answering her cries but then I remember her cuteness and sleepily waltz out of bed.
5. Sense of humor: Sara has a solid sense of humor but Natalie shares my enjoyment of farting, belching, making silly noises, performing zerberts and other crude gestures. Sara tends to disdain such lowbrow humor.
6. Puts up with me: Natalie has already watched 320 sports games with me, listened to 2,389 stupid made up songs, and had to deal with a dad fumbling his way through fatherhood but she grins and bears it like a champ.

Well, it's clear that I may never find a victor in my Valentine competition. I suppose I will have to carve out enough space in my heart for both women. Such is the trial of a man surrounded by two lovely ladies.

And I know this blog is a day late but when you’re as head-over-heals as I am, every day is Valentine's Day.

Footsie

What is this crazy thing?!

In one of the more epic discoveries of the past century, ranking right up there with anti-matter, cloning technology, and go-gurt...Natalie has found her feet.

It happened one normal afternoon on the changing table (Yet again lending more credence to the idea that some of our best thinking is done on the pot...or in this case, on the table). Natalie was busy, as usual, squirming and kicking and making it nearly impossible to get a new diaper on, when she noticed something odd looming in her peripheral vision.

It looked like a strange hand and smelled like a wet dog. But what was it exactly and why did it seem to be moving in a controlled fashion? And then, suddenly, like a ton of foam bricks, it hit her. These were her strange hands!...She controlled them!...And look she could grab them and pull on them and nearly get them into her mouth! And, as if that wasn't enough, she could use them to make it even more difficult to change her. Oh, what a wonderful morning that was for Natalie.

Since that day her fascination with her new found appendages has grown. It is indeed lucky that we have all these fancy interactive toys and rattles because they give me something to do while she marvels at the different lengths of her toes or coos while reaching playfully for her feet.

Her new discovery has also reaffirmed my theory that while scientists can study babies till their pocket-protectors turn blue, they will never truly be able to understand what babies are thinking. No adult can truly imagine what it would be like to wake up one morning, head to the john, and discover arms sticking out if his abdomen. I'm also sure our reaction to such a development would be a little more dramatic and a little less excited.

This is the joy of watching babies grow. Maybe we can't understand how they think but we can certainly admire their ability to navigate an ever-changing world and take it all in-stride.