And Then, Work Began in Earnest

"You know your life has changed when your relieved wife calls to tell you that your child nuke-pooped his outfit after several days of nothing." -- Daddy-O

I wrote that some time ago on my Facebook in ....November ... and that pretty much sums up how life has changed in the past four months.

Hi. I'm John. You may remember I started this damn blog after my wife had a kid and stuff. I know. I've disappeared off the face of the Earth after the beginning of September. Silly me thought that, since I'd be home on paternity leave, that I'd have scads of time to write about and ponder the joys and horrors of modern parenting. As you can see, I was mistaken.

So. Let me catch y'all up. We're just going to hit the highlights because, as some of you know, newborns are typically "wash, rinse, repeat."

G-man no longer insists on sleeping on daddy's chest, joining mommy and daddy for the hell of it or demanding a "death pillow." We finally broke him of that, and he now nestles into his bassinet each night with no problems. Even though the experts say not to put a blanket over him, we still do that because, hey, we like to live dangerously. It's not like we're covering him in a Wal-Mart sack and tying the handles shut.

By and large, the little guy sleeps pretty well. We get three hours minimum between feeds, but now and again, his lordship grants us a four-or five-hour stretch. On such days, there is much rejoicing in the scullery by his waitstaff. But such days are irregular at best and never predicable.

His turds have changed color from blackish tar to olive drab to the occasional vomited-up-margarita green. I tell you this because such matters are discussed by his waitstaff ad nauseum. He drops anchor about once a day now, or twice if his lordship feels generous.

His cries are no longer the great mystery, and we often land the plane on the runway with all the landing gear down. That's a great feeling. To know that you're needed in the cockpit, and most likely you're not all going to die tonight. Again. And again.

He made his first long trip to Cowtown to see his dad's parents in October. That went well. He grew every day until he almost outgrew some of the clothes we packed. We changed him four times in one night. Once home, we ordered larger diapers, and he hasn't ruined his clothes since. 

G-man went to his mom's parents
as a shark for Halloween. He was the best shark, too. Sometime around that time he started to laugh and smile at us because his eyesight finally came in and he could see how weird mommy and daddy look.

We've boxed our first set of clothes and put them up in the attic for possible future use, if his lordship would only give his waitstaff the time to concentrate on the future, that is.

Daycare is a great invention. G-man enjoys it, and the people watching him enjoy him. Mommy and daddy can continue "working for the man" in the meantime. My wife did very well at the "letting go" part, and we stretched it out during our last week off of work. Highly recommend doing so, guys.  Dumping them day of back to work isn't so hot, I hear.

Last two weeks, he's starting to use his hands to play with stuff he finds around the house, such as butcher knives and pinking shears, and enjoys making noise with these items.

In a few short days, he'll be four months. And he'll be asking me for the keys to the car.

Stay tuned, America. I'll try to do better.