Diapers, number two.

I love my wife. While I go to work each morning, she stays at home with The Dude. While at work, I rarely encounter anyone crying...and if they are, I'm not expected to feed that person or change his pants.

At home, though, my wife is the caregiver to a 1 month old. If he's hungry, she's on it. If he needs changed, she's there. If she's tired, he's awake. If she's hungry, he's hungry.

She's a beast.


When I get home, though, I become the diaper changer. I figure I can handle a few diapers here and there, compared to the amount she changes during the day. Usually a pretty easy go, unless she drops this bomb:

"Oh, and -- he hasn't pooped for me today."

Translation: Grab a Maid of the Mist poncho, noseplugs, and wipes. Lots of wipes. It's gonna get messy.

Luckily, The Dude hasn't had any constipation issues. He poops. And if he doesn't poop during the day, you can bet that there are a few heavily loaded diapers awaiting me that evening.


Generally, here's the rundown:

I change him. No poop.
Five minutes later, I hear a shart.
I wait a few minutes to see if there are other sharts to follow.
I change him. Lots of mustard-like poop.
Five minutes later, I hear a shart.
I wait ten minutes to see if there are other sharts.
I change him.


No one enjoys that shartty feeling....maybe your stomach hurts, and you try to pass a little gas, thinking it'll help....but sadly, there's something brewing inside you. Yeah....never fun. I think The Dude loves it, though. He'll get a peaceful look on his face...and I can't say that I blame him.

When I hear that rumble, though, I think, "Diaper, don't fail me now!" I really hope I was successful in putting the diaper on correctly. Too loose - it's everywhere. Too tight - it squirts out.

We've had instances of leakage. When this happens, I try to channel my inner-Adrian Monk, piecing together the events that led to a onesie soaked with pee. Sometimes the diaper was loose or tight. Sometimes, The Dude's dude was pointing up or to the side. Sometimes, he was just full of pee and the diaper was at max capacity.

At the end of the day, though, I realize that I don't need a poncho from the Maid of the Mist. Noseplugs aren't necessary. All I need is patience...and wipes.

Lots of wipes.

Bedtime

Lately, I've been the parent responsible for feeding our son just before bedtime. While my wife ties up a few loose odds and ends before bed, I'll take command.

In an ideal world, he'd take a bottle, burp, and fall asleep for 5 hours.

Sadly, you and I both know there is no such thing as an ideal world.


Here's the usual routine: Diaper, feed 2+oz.; burp; he closes eyes for 5 minutes; I stand up, thinking he's asleep; he opens eyes, remembers that he's still hungry; feed 2+oz.; burp; falls asleep.

At this point, I take him upstairs and put him in the cradle next to our bed. You might ask, "Why is he sleeping in your room? Put him in the nursery." I might answer, "Good point. But shut up....I'm tired and I don't need to argue this with you."

My son, though, might be the next Amazing Kreskin. Within 10 seconds of my head hitting the pillow, he starts to fuss. Kreskin knows that it'll only take approximately 15 seconds for me to fall asleep. Thus, as a courtesy compromise, he fusses after I've laid down, but before I fall asleep.

So, after fussing for a few minutes, he breaks into a cry. Not a Cry-cry....but a cry. Usually it'll take a few more ounces of milk to get things back to normal. Sometimes he can pacify himself by latching on to my pinkie.

In the near future, Young Kreskin will be moved to the nursery. This will provide me with more chances to trip over things before getting to him when he cries. (Note: by "me", I mean "my wife")

Guilt

With a two-week old, I find myself thinking about what my son will grow up to be.

I'd like to think I'm fairly open-minded, and that I'll support all of the important life decisions he makes....what college to attend, what occupation to pursue, who to choose as a mate.....all of that will be up to him. I'll gladly offer advice when requested (and sometimes when it's not requested).

There is one non-negotiable item.

My son will be a fan of Cleveland sports. His adorable diapered ass will be firmly planted on the seat of the Cleveland sports train.

My job, as his father and Cleveland sports mentor, will be to teach him about the history -- the highs, the lows, the lower lows and the lowest lows -- of the world of sports. Here are the cliffnotes:

highs: 1948 Indians, Browns up until Jim Brown retired, Miracle of Richfield, Wilkens-era Cavs, Steroid-era Tribe, Cleveland Crunch, LeBron-era Cavs, Joe Tait, Tom Hamilton, Nev Chandler, Casey Coleman, Jim Donovan
lows: Red Right 88, Don Rogers, The Drive, The Fumble, The Shot, Braves pitchers, Marlins, Spurs, Red Sox, Magic...
lower lows: Expansion era Browns
lowest lows: Baltimore Ravens

I feel a bit guilty forcing my son to support Cleveland teams. I don't want to cause a Kinsella-esque schism. But I feel that by being a Cleveland supporter, there are many important life lessons to be learned. Among these lessons:

• how to lose honorably (See: 1964-2010)
  
• how to deal with disappointment (See: Cavs - 2009)
  
• how to see the glass half-full...especially while throwing said glass onto the field to express anger
• how to deal with "loss" of a hero (See: Thome, J - 2002)
• how to irrationally hate (See: Mesa, J)
• how to rationally hate (See: Yankees; Steelers)
• how to rationally hope (See: James, L)
• how to irrationally hope (See: 1964-2010)
  
• how to ridicule (See: Roethlisberger, B)
• how to celebrate (See: tumbleweed rolling)

I feel a little guilty....not letting him choose. I suppose that somewhere, down the road, he could give up Cleveland sports. I mean, with all the losing and disappointment, who could blame him? But, I'd like to think he'll understand commitment, heart, and unconditional love.

They say it's always darkest before dawn....hopefully, for my son's sake, the rooster crows very soon.

Diapers...

At the beginning of our pregnancy, my wife and I specifically requested a child who was potty-trained. If not potty-trained, at least litter-trained, like our cat, Plinko. If not litter-trained, at least house-broken, so we could let him do business in the yard.

As it turns out, our child poops and pees in a diaper. I'm told this is normal, and shouldn't be a problem. At about $100 a pop, I'd say that diapers is money down the drain. Sadly, it's like money down the diaper-pail.

Two weeks in, I feel pretty comfortable changing his diapers. I've been peed on three times....twice by him, once by me. His poop does not yet resemble poop. Instead of turds, it looks like fancy mustard gone bad.

The two worst times involved poop on the peeper before the circumcision site had fully healed. Thus, we had to take him to the sink and let water trickle on his area...baptizing his wiener, in essence.

The circumcision has fully healed. No longer does it look like he's trying to guide Santa's sleigh through a blizzard, and we don't have to put vaseline on him so it doesn't stick to the diaper. I can't imagine a pain worse than "circumsized penis sticking to diaper." I would not luvs that, and if it happened, someone would have to pampers me, or I would vow to blowout every diaper.


Yes, there have been some gross diapers, but I keep thinking, "This is nothing. The worst is yet to come."

Is two weeks too early to start litter and/or potty training him?

Tired...

Let's jump back in time about two weeks....we're approaching our due date. The message that we receive from every parent: Get your sleep!

I think I underestimated this advice. I kind of treated it like the "drink plenty of water" advice when working out in the sun during a humid July afternoon....it's a good idea, but, whatever...I'll be fine.


One week of being a father has kicked my ass.

I hesitate to even write this, because as much as I complain, my wife can justifiably complain 150% more than me. I can sleep while our son eats. She cannot. Also, her insides are still healing.

If I had to describe the tiredness I feel, I would liken it to college...particularly near the end of the spring semester...when everything is due in the matter of 3 days, and there is a ton of stuff going on around campus. Much like those days, I can fall asleep anywhere, anytime. On the toilet? Check. On the floor? check. Anywhere.

Also, just like those days, after a 20 minute nap, I'm ready to take on the world (and crappy diapers).


If I was smart, I would've saved a bunch of blog entries in advance. I would've left them like MadLibs, and filled them in quickly later.

I felt (adjective) when my wife gave birth.
My son's diapers often look (color) and smell like (rotten food).



Among the topics that I'll discuss:
Breastfeeding
Circumcision
Helplessness
Baby Clothes
Food
Leaving the house
Letting him cry
Diapering
Lessons to teach, Lessons to learn