Keeping Him Clueless

My pal Dan calls up at noon and asks if he can pick me up at a transmission repair shop downtown and run him back to his house in the boonies of Apex. But I decide to do it anyway even though it'll kill my afternoon plans of watch episodes of The Partridge Family for my review. He still hasn't a clue that I've got a kid on the way.

When I go to pick him up, I discover he's got my goddaughter Sarah, too. Nobody said anything about transporting a 3 year old. She's nicer than she was last time I saw her and she screamed the entire time. The kid is a bit of a brat. Instead of going to the Bear Rock for food, we hit up the nearby Hooters. Dan has our waitress do everything short of breast feeding the kid. And I think that would have been on the agenda. The waitress gives Sarah a balloon and signs it. Sarah doesn't like the fact that it was the waitress's name along with hers.

Instead of driving all the way back to Apex, I have them over to my house to sit around. Sarah keeps asking me if I have some crummy new Disney series with a knock-off Mickey Mouse. I explain I only have classic Mickey Mouse - the real stuff. At first I panic that my subterfuge will be exposed. But luckily all of Josie's new stuff has been stashed upstairs. While Dan undoes Sarah from her car seat, I race inisde and cover up the sonograms and pus a copy of The Naked Lunch over "What to Expect When You're Expecting."

Most of the visit had Dan sleeping on the sofa while I attempted to show Sarah how to play catch with a mini-basketball. She hasn't a clue how to catch a ball. How can a dad not teach a kid to catch over the last few years? I expect to have Josie working on her bounce pass by 18 months. Kid needs to know how to work the lane.

At one point Dan asks if I have any chips or crackers for Sarah. I poke around and pull out some old peanut butter nabs (which we bought before the evil peanut butter scare). I ask if she likes them and she swears they're her favorites. I give her a pack still in the cellophane and say, "let you dad do the heavy work." She spends the next ten minutes holding them. Finally Dan informs me that Sarah might be allergic to peanuts. What the hell? What if I had opened up the pack and gave her one right off the bat? Isn't it a father's duty to inform people who are giving food to their kids to avoid serving that food that will send the kid to the hospital?

Finally I take them back to get their fixed van. Sarah has fallen asleep in her car seat. Instead of driving his van into the spot next to mine - or asking if I'll drive over there to make it a short move, Dan says he'll carry Sarah in her car seat to the van. But before he does that, he removes the balloon, walks it to the van and puts it inside. As if I couldn't have carried the leftovers and the balloon to the van.

But at least I didn't put the kid in the hospital and Dan still hasn't a clue. He can't call me up everyday to give me the business about what a living hell my life will be with a baby. Although I think at a Hooters, my kid will remember to say, "My mommy went away. Will you be daddy's new mommy....until she gets back from work?"

Becky swears she'll kill me if I accomplish this feat.

Nutmeg

Becky's work is sending her up to Hartford for the next two weeks. She'll be back over the weekend. I can't believe I won't be near Josie for all that time. I wonder if she's going to remember me when she gets back. She barely recognized me when we had her sonogramed. I will have to give her extra tuba time this weekend so she'll remember the man who makes those goofy noises while she floats around.

Mom Misses the Nickname

Yesterday while i was moving more of my former life into my parents' attic, mom mentioned how she misses being able to say Butterbean when talking about Josie. It's so strange since Becky's side hated the nickname - especially her grandmother. Becky's side of the family is the one with all the weird nicknames. My side of the family sticks with your real name or a shortened version with a "Y" to them. They might be from Boston, but we're not the private school WASPS of Brookline. Although I don't know too many "Butterbeans" lounging around the Marblehead Sailing Society Clubhouse.

I told mom that she can call Josie her Butterbean.

A Bib worthy of My Daughter

Recently the Yawkeywaystore had another online sale and I was able to snag Josie a bib celebrating the Boston Redsox '07 World Series title. Sure the kid wasn't around to see the glory of Paps shutting down the Rocks, but it's not that far back.

How to calm Josie down

Becky has taken to snacking right before bed. The influx of food makes Josie less prone to bouncing around while mom attempts to go to sleep. I'm wondering if this little trick will work after she's born. Or will we have to feed Josie directly?

More Space

Tonight I finished cleaning out dad's old footlocker that I've been dragging around since freshman year of college. Strange to find my old checks and phone bills. I saved a canceled check that was signed by John Swain. I trashed a lot of worthless stuff - other people's creative writing assignments. There was a lot of my old Technician columns. I wonder if Josie is going to give a crap about her old man's jottings? Is she even going to know what a newspaper is?

8 More Would Be Great

The woman working the sonogram refused to copy and paste Josie 8 times so Becky could look like she's got 9 identical babies in her belly. I just wanted to steal Octomom's heat for a day.

Do You Know Me

do during Mass, I realize the baby in a carry seat is the same baby that was there last weekend. He looks at me, but I don't think he recognizes me. I wonder when babies start recognizing faces of people that pop up in their lives more than every day? Or do they just have immediate reactions to recurring faces based on that face versus prior knowledge? And will Josie have me confused with Mr. Clean if I wear a white t-shirt around the house?

Making more space

After nearly a decade, I have to go through the stuff I stashed in dad's old footlocker. I'm guessing Josie isn't going to care if I don't keep my canceled checks from Ma Bell. Kids have no sense of history if they're not in the group photos.

That's good

The nice part about naming her Josie is that for the rest of her life, she can just put on a pair of cat ears and be Josie and the Pussycats for Halloween or any costume party.

Please - not that

As baby shower season approaches, I'm rather fearful that people will somehow decide to give Josie little red socks. I just don't want them. Mainly because I know that little red socks will sneak into the white wash load. I only speak from experience of growing up with pink moment. It's a shame they don't make like little chips inside the socks that will sound an alarm if they get tossed into the washer for the white load. Why can't science give me what I want?

Could still be a Boy?

Becky said a co-worker was told he was having a girl until 4 weeks before his wife gave birth to his son. Hmmmmm. Could Josie been tucking in order to pull a fast one on his old man. Kids today are so annoying.

making room

Tonight Frip comes over to help me move stuff into the attic. Becky is no longer good for helping me drag stuff up the folding staircase. Stuff that can vanish from Josie's upcoming bedroom is now being stashed under the roofbeams. Mostly it's my movie poster collection and books I haven't touche in years. Our unfinished attic wasn't quite done right. There's right in the middle of the room is an exposed strip where they didn't connect the plywood. For 7 years I haven't moved up there without fear. While trying to find a space, I just stick my foot into that open slot. Woosh. Crunk. I shout, but quickly pull my foot out of the hole. I look down and I can see our guest room bathtub.

I've just decided to give my baby a sunroof.

Lucky I didn't screw up my foot and the chunks of ceiling remained intact. So I taped them up. Hopefully we'll have the hole really fixed in the coming weeks.

How the hell does a size 14 fit in such a space?

From the wisdom of Iain

My pal Iain wrote me: one of the things you're going to learn as a parent is that there are two types of products for children. Things a parent would buy, and crap that's marketed to relatives.

"You will find that the market is dominated by the "crap that's marketed to relatives" segment."

I'm going to guess that a majority of that "crap that's marketed to relatives" contains things that make way too much noise with the simple touch of a button.

Baby in the bed

They always have those child experts on TV who talk about to pros and cons of letting the baby sleep in the parent's bed. At nearly 4 months till birth, I'm ready to put Josie in the other room with the baby monitor. The kid will not let Becky find a comfortable position. One second Becky has it solved and then the antsy child must roam the other side of her gut. Can't this kid sit still? And it's not like we can give Josie a Cherrio to calm her down. The only thing I can do is pull up Becky's pajama top and make the tuba noise on her belly. It doesn't seem to help so much. Although if she gets curious about tuba music, I'll know my weird training had an impact.

Books

While I've been wondering about kid books for Josie, it's been pointed out that little babies don't really care what you're reading them. it's all about tone and connection with them. That's good news. My reading list will now change over to all the various books I keep forgetting to read. That means Josie will get to hear Thomas Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow along with Tom Wolfe's Radical Chic. I think she'll enjoy hearing about the Black Panthers at Leonard Bernstein's townhouse. Kids are so entertained by tales of late '60s fundraising. Shall I also pull out various Nabokov novels? Why not.

The Mild Times

Last night we went to a party at a location that used to be known for risque and wild parties. However the host and hostess had just had a kid along a few of the other guests. There was even another pregnant woman. So instead of talk being about booze and carnal subjects, it was all about babies. It was strange to see an entire scene completely shift. They had turned one of their room into a space for babies featuring pack and plays. Perhaps in a decade, the wildness will return. Or we'll just end up talking about carpooling to soccer practice.

One of the babies is huge. It weighed just shy of 12 pounds when born. Ouch. The baby was already wearing socks meant for a 12 month old. It was barely 4 months old. I think the kid is already receiving letters from college scouts.

Hopefully Josie will be a reasonable weight. Else Becky will never forgive me for passing a bowling ball.

Cleaning Day

I'm having to move the CD collection into my parent's house in order to make enough space for Josie. While shifting the boxes downstairs, i pick out a few titles that might appeal to the little baby. Mostly classical music. What's the point of buying Baby Mozart when I can give her the good stuff uncut? Also I yanked out a couple Tiki music CDs. Little kids should enjoy the calm sounds of the Pacific breeze.

The nice thought is a decade from now, we'll be going through the collection so she can load up her iPod device without unloading my bank account. Unless she becomes addicted to the nostalgic sounds of the Jonas Brothers.

Question of time

While wandering to the mailbox, I realize how quickly my day seems to go by. And then I remember how long a day was when I was a kid. It was amazing how much I could pack into an afternoon as an 8 year old. I blame it on relativity. the more you adjust to the structure of time, the faster it takes - unless you're talking about that last minute of an NCAA basketball game. Those take hours.

I realize that Josie at this moment has no idea of time since she's pretty much in the dark. When she's born, she won't catch on to the whole night and day thing. it's just going to be "feed me" time and "change this wet diaper" time and "shut up so I can sleep" time.

I've decided that I need to give her a sense of a cycle. I'll have to Tuba Becky's belly before she goes to sleep and when she wakes up. This way when Josie is born, I can make the tuba noise and she'll be able to relate to that part of the day. I just need to think of a code to tuba. "Ace of Spades" at sunrise?

Off the Menu

Becky reminded me that under no circumstances am I to go Tom Cruise and make a meal out of the placenta.

semi good news

had a chat with our insurance company about giving Josie a second ultra sound since she didn't want to move for the photographer. Turns out we don't have a massive deductible. This always nice to know. Although mom keeps telling me about how little it cost her to have us on the army bases. I do think they charged by the pound.

I still think we can save a lot of money if Becky will let me deliver the kid in the back of the car. Skip can loan me the film for a refresher course.

so little time

I've only got 4 more months before I turn into a sleep deprived zombie dad. Josie's room still has plenty to be removed before we drag in the baby furniture. Why can't a baby sleep on a full bed? People keep asking what's the theme of the bedroom. Will it be Butterlies? Or Ladybugs? Or Bumble Bees? Or Pink? I want the theme to be "Stay asleep until dad is ready to wake up!" I will do this by painting the eyes of Charles Manson on the ceiling above the crib. That'll keep her eyelids shut until daddy comes to get her.

changing channels

When Josie arrives, I'll have to watch Wheel of Fortune with her so she can catch onto the concept of letters and how to spell a word. At least with the new format, she won't get the idea that good spelling should be rewarded with giant ceramic dogs.

How much to raise a kid?

Eddie Murphy is paying $50,000 a month in child support to the kid he had with Scary Spice. What the hell? Are babies that damn expensive that I'm going to figure out how to earn $600K a year? Well I can't get that much money running a bank that took TARP cash. I better start playing the lottery.

Not this.....

walking past the toy section of Target fills me with dread as I see the row of Barbie Dolls and her various fashions. Plus they're bringing back Strawberry Shortcake. No....this can't be my fate. A life of keeping up with little plastic high heels before vacuuming the living room. I am paying for my sins....

Octo-mom Creepier than imagined

They had the woman on TV who popped out the 8 puppies and had 6 more at home. She's certifiable. First thing is she looks like Angelina Jolie's stand-in. She then keeps going on that she wants all these kids because as an only child her parents didn't give her that great of a childhood. That's all nice except that from reports, her parents were raising the last 6 kids. She's on disability. She claims she's finishing up a degree that will allow her to support all 14 kids without having a spouse. What degree is this? I want this money making degree.

I'm relieved that we only have one on the away. Although it sucks that Ann Curry won't be showing up to interview us about the challenge of raising a single kid in a nation obsessed with litters. How can we compete with Octo-mon, Angelina Jolie's brood, John and Katie and those Duggars? People who don't want to turn their wife's uterus into Grand Central Station are outcasts in this "Breed 'em Big and TV Ready" generation.

Maybe we could just photoshop Josie to look like she's one of 9 kids. We just have to keep the lie going until after an Oprah appearance.

Haunted by youth

After getting my gums worked over, I have to make an appointment my next visit in August. Instead of my usual - whatever time you have open works for me, I end up doing the math thinking how old Josie will be. Plus I have to consider if I'll need mom to come over to watch her. So I go for an afternoon time thinking she'll be napping about then so mom won't have to do much. This becoming a dad thing involves more math and scheduling than managing a hackey sack squad.

Pink Panther first

Not that Josie will be watching cartoons anytime soon after she's born. I'll make sure she keeps he back to the TV set until she's at least a year old. When it comes time to let her watch, I'll start out with Pink Panther cartoons since there's no words in them. Pure visual weirdness for the kid. Plus she'll like the Pink Panther cels hanging on the wall. The good part is that she won't be able to beg for a Panther like she could a cat if we watched Tom and Jerry cartoons.

Potty Time

This morning it hits that toilet training a girl will be slightly easier since I won't have to explain the concept of keeping your focus while you aim. I'll only have to teach the Fonzie method of "Sit on it!" And hopefully since it's a girl, she'll grow tall fast so she'll be able to tackle the bowl by age 5 months.

gifts that keep giving

Mom gave me my clown doll from when I want a toy. It's really cute and Josie should enjoy staring at it - I don't want it covered in drool for her first few months. The strange thought is that the doll is 42 years old. When Josie plays with my old fisher-price little people toys at mom's house, she'll be playing with antiques. It would have been like me as an infant playing with stuff from 1924. I don't remember if my Lincoln Logs were steam powered with little coal slots devised by Thomas Edison.

last "quiet" Superbowl

Hard to think that next year I won't be able to get drunk and cuss during the Superbowl. Odds are Josie will be disturbing my viewing. And she's going to be too small to be able to bring me nachos let alone mix up guacamole for all of us. Plus she won't even care about the point spread. and if I have to go to the bathroom, she won't be able to tell me what plays I missed. plus she'll welsh out on any bets with that, "I'm a baby" excuse.