Sleepy New Year

Right now it is 10:30 p.m. on New Year's Eve and I'm sitting in front of my computer (obviously) with one eye on Ryan Seacrest doing his thing on TV (whatever that is). This time two years ago, I was in Times Square with an engagement ring in my pocket, getting ready to drop down on one knee and pop the question. I guess a lot has happened in two years. We got engaged, got married, had our baby girl, got jobs, quit jobs, kept jobs, got dogs – it's pretty wild to think about.

So now, instead of being shoulder to shoulder with about a million partiers in New York, we're sitting in our living room, more excited by the fact that Babe-O is sleeping soundly in her crib then by anything else. Given how strung out we ended up with all the holiday travel, unwinding with the dogs and watching our brand new second-hand big honkin' TV feels pretty close to paradise.

My phone is off. The baby is sleeping. There are buffalo wings in the oven and Yoo-Hoo in the fridge. And we will almost certainly fall asleep in the living room and wake up to the first infomercials of 2009 after snoring through the ball drop.

Couldn't be happier. Happy New Year, everybody!

Made it!

Well, our wee hours of the morning departure paid off and we were back at Mom-O's parents' house by late morning. We were still just under an hour away from home, but it was very nice to be done with the serious driving by lunch. We learned that our dogs hadn't burned anybody's house down, which is pretty good for them, and were happy for the chance to unwind and get Babe-O out of her seat for a bit.

The ride was a little bit rough, as the little one was still a bit sick. Things were made a little tougher than usual because our car was packed to the brim. Not only were we leaving with Christmas presents as you might expect, but we had also inherited a very large and ungodly heavy television set from my parents. This meant that we didn't have very much room in the back seat, so when Babe-O was fussy, it was tricky to get back there with her. Luckily, Mom-O had been up late the night before repacking the car over and over again until she managed to get everything jammed in there while still leaving room for a tiny sliver of middle seat where one person could fit, assuming they were double jointed with a pelvis that rotates 110 degrees.

For the last hour and a half of the trip, the guy with the half backwards pelvis was me. Babe-O was willing to settle down and keep quiet as long as she had a finger to suck on, so we managed to make it the rest of the way with a generally volatile but mostly calm baby. At this point I was feeling pretty guilty about the gauntlet we had run her through for the last week, but it was nice to know that she had gotten to see everybody and that we were almost back home where she could have a good night's sleep in her own crib.

We planned to spend the afternoon with Amy's folks, but after an hour or so it was obvious that it was time to go. It was obvious to me, anyway, because my wife told me so after waking me from my comfy recliner slumber. She was tired, I was tired, Babe-O was tired – it was just time to get home. We didn't leave without making an impression though, as Mom-O at one point tossed me a singing glow worm, which knocked my late-morning, destination-reached victory beer out of my hand like John Wayne disarming a bad guy with a shot to the wrist. Lucky for all concerned, the couch had a removable cover that could go in the wash.

Okay…fast forward to home. As soon as we walked into Babe-O's bedroom, her eyes lit up and a big smile beamed on her face as she looked around at all of her stuff. It was very cool to see the flash of recognition as she realized that she was back at home. She had a similar reaction to her dogs, which was also cool. I'm glad to have a baby who has some dogs. And I'm glad that she appreciates that it's good to be home.

The Cranky Threshold

Seems like Christmaspalooza has finally taken its toll on Babe-O. She was up much of last night and fussed all morning.

We fueled up on Dunkin' Donuts (which we can't get back home) and McDonald's (which we can). After that, we packed our girl up to go for one last visit – a long-distance buddy of Mom-O who happens to live very close to my folks. When we got there, Babe-O was delightful, but with a very short fuse. She was tired and a little irritable, but did a good job meeting people and interacting with two very friendly, very cool dogs. I felt bad, because we ended up having to leave after quite a brief visit, as our meltdown warning light was flashing bright red after we had been there for about a half an hour. The poor girl was just overwhelmed and was simply not up to seeing anything else new – not today anyway.

So it was a short visit, but well worth the trip. We had a good time and ended up leaving with a half box of diapers our host's baby had outgrown and some clothes that will fit Babe-O. Coolest of all, we left with a very stylish pink beret that was hand-crotcheted (not pronounced "krotch-it-ed", I'm told).

We are scheduled to head back home dark and early tomorrow morning, so hopefully we can get her back into her old routine and feeling a little more secure about life in general.

Despite being a little on the strung out side, Babe-O was allowed to stay up past her usual bed time to meet some extraordinarily good friends of mine that I've known since grade school: the dad, the newly married guy, and the single guy – all in one room for the first time in years. It was a super quick visit, but it was outstanding to see them. Plus they brought me an enormous bottle of beer, which is always a nice gesture.

After they took off, we considered jumping right in the car and driving through the night, but thought better of it after Babe-O started sleeping soundly and I started eating myself into a donut coma. Babe-O had transitioned into all-out sick mode, with a slight fever and a runny nose, so we didn't want to risk robbing her of some good hours of sleep.

I set an alarm for 3 a.m. and stretched out on the couch. Wish us luck on the road!

Babe-O’s Christmas World Tour (final stop)

We made it thankfully to Delaware, getting as many miles as possible out of Babe-O's sleeping time by leaving around 3 a.m. for the seven or eight hour trip.

We did our best to get some sleep before we left, but it was kind of a rough night. We were all camped out in the living room at Mom-O's parents' house, which meant Mom-O on the couch, Babe-O in her bassinet, me in a recliner, and dogs strategically placed throughout the room.

The problem was that whenever anyone upstairs made a peep or did something outrageous like go to the restroom, our littlest dog would freak out and start barking, which would wake up our biggest dog, who would really start barking. By the end of the night, this chain reaction had woken up everybody in the house (Babe-O included) three or four times.

Regardless, 3 a.m. finally did roll around and we were off and running.

We made it about halfway to Delaware before we found a good Perkins where we could get Babe-O out of her seat for lunch and a fresh diaper. She was in a good mood, but wasn't happy at all when it came time to put her back in the car.

She was fussier than usual once we were back on the road, despite me being willing to risk getting pulled over under suspicion of DUI for changing lanes constantly to rock her to sleep.

It was at about the same time we realized we hadn't seen any poop in about twenty-four hours when we heard a noise in the back seat that sounded like a walrus choking on a trumpet.

We pulled over to assess the damage in a little one-street town that ran parallel to the highway. Mom-O managed to get the diaper changed and the baby happy in the back seat and we got driving again without too much fuss.

We made it to my folks' house before lunch and it was nice to be where we were going with much of the day to spare. Babe-O was a little cranky from the ride but after a while she was delightful for her Nana and Granddaddy.

When we exchanged Christmas gifts, she was still a little out of sorts, but still did her share of unwrapping presents and generally enjoying her booty.

I was also feeling like a little kid, with eyes lighting up at the two giant boxes of diapers we had been given. I was half tempted to keep the boxes sealed and hide them in the basement. If the world economy ever collapses completely, a good box of diapers will be worth more than gold.

Ava ended up with lots of cool stuff and she seemed quite pleased. We gave Nana and Granddaddy personalized mugs that showed a beautiful picture that Mom-O had taken with her very cool, very professional camera. It is a great picture, with Babe-O sporting a bright red tutu and a little Santa hat. I received a similar gift the other day, and it ended up very high on my list of favorite presents. Love that baby.

Now we are relaxing with my parents in dog-free bliss. Actually they have a dog, but Elizabeth is an old English bulldog who is about 112 in people years and doesn't have quite the enthusiasm that makes our three such a handful.

It was also cool to see Elizabeth because she has been snubbing me every time I visited since I started bringing my own dogs with me. Now it is more like old times and she has been willing to hang out and send a few friendly glances my way. 

As we plug along at an Elizabeth-like pace, this is pretty much the perfect environment for Babe-O to recover from her go-go-go first Christmas experience. For a very small person she has managed to pack a lot of activity into the last few days. Now all three of us can unwind a bit and catch our breath.

Hooray for kicking back. I just hope our dogs are behaving themselves with their various (and very generous) family babysitters back home.

Babe-O’s Christmas World Tour

Today was a big day for our little girl.

Last night, Mom-O was up late getting us packed for our holiday rounds, an 800 mile loop that will take us from our cozy snowy home, all the way across Pennsylvania, into Delaware, and back again.

I was also up late, but instead of being busy packing I was busy not putting gas in the car. (Attention aspiring English Majors: the preceding line is what's known as foreshadowing.)

So we were up late last night, which led to getting out of bed late this morning. This was a problem, as we has breakfast plans with Mom-O's folks followed by back-to-back gatherings at other pretty rural locations, the kind where the roads are two lanes, the Amish hog both, and the gas stations are few and far between. (You still with me, English Majors?)

Anyway, we made it out to our first stop, where we had plenty of time to eat a bountiful breakfast and to catch our breath. From there it was off to our first set of Christmas festivities. Babe-O was wearing her Sunday best, a cute little red dress complete with white leggings and little shiny black shoes. She hated it, and did much fussing and fidgeting.

She did pretty well at the party, particularly once we got her dress off of her and put her in something more comfortable. She isn't used to being surrounded by noisy, excited people, so we had to take her into a back room to catch her breath every once in a while. All told, though, it was a good time and the visit was a success.

Then it was off to our next destination, following a brief and much needed pit-stop at Mom-O's folks' house.

Our next stop was filled with more people and more noise, so once again Babe-O was a little wigged out from time to time. She did, however, spend quite a bit of time with people that weren't us, which was certainly a testament to her budding independence. She often kept one eye on us from across the room as she was held by different family members and actually took a nap with Amy's uncle in a big comfy recliner that is known for slowly draining sitters of all will to remain awake.

We got through the night with a minimum of crying, though by the time we left, it was getting harder and harder to keep the little one happy. She was clearly a little overwhelmed/overtired and was happy to get back to more low key surroundings.

But getting to low key surroundings turned out to be more difficult that we expected. We hopped in the car and stopped at a nearby Country Fair to get gas, something we had avoided doing on the way because the baby was happy in the moving car and we really didn't want to make any waves.

Big mistake.

It's Christmas Day, which apparently means that gas stations are closed. No self serve. No nothing.

Lucky for us, we were following Mom-O's parents, so we weren't completely on our own. Driving through the Pennsylvania woods with zero gas makes you notice three things about Pennsylvania woods: (1) there isn't much shoulder to speak of; (2) there isn't anywhere to buy gas even if it wasn't Christmas Day; and (3) there isn't any cell phone service anywhere, so if you do run into trouble, your sorry butt had better start walking.

It was a really bad scene, and I pretty much made myself sick worrying about making it where we were going and thinking about how I had brought my wife and baby out into the middle of nowhere in a vehicle that wasn't up to the trip. Now I know how all of those wagon-driving Dads felt back in the day, when things almost never went as planned.

Fortunately, for various reasons throughout my life, I've had the chance to drive cars on fumes and knew that I was smarter than your av-er-age bear when it comes to fuel economy. Mom-O was understandably miffed at the situation, but I was pretty sure that a light foot on the pedal and the extra 9 miles per gallon you can pick up through the magic of positive thinking would get us either to the house or to a Jewish gas station that was open on Christmas. A few phone calls made by Mom-O-in-Law told us that Kwik-Fill was open and we managed to coast our way there.

It was a relief to be there and a lesson well learned the hard way.

On a happy note, it was nice to be able to fill a bone dry gas tank for under $30. It wasn't long ago that it took $20 just to make the needle move. Happy Recession America!

So we made it back to the house and managed to unwind and get Babe-O down to bed. It was a few hours past her usual bed time, but WAY earlier than it would have been if the gasoline gods hadn't smiled on us the way they did.

I admit that I am still completely tweaked about the whole gas debacle and am only just settling down enough to get some sleep. I am really, really glad that it worked out the way it did. I really wouldn't mind spending the night walking down some woody road if I was on my own, but thinking about Mom-O and Babe-O stuck in that car makes me sick.

Ack! Now that I have told my little story, it's time to join the rest of the house in getting some sleep. We will be leaving dark and early in the morning so that Babe-O will sleep for as much of the trip as possible and hopefully we'll make it to Delaware to see my folks earlier rather than later.

Plus, it'll probably take us a little longer than usual because I am not planning to let the gas gauge drop below nine tenths of a tank.

Merry Christmas everybody!

Babe-O’s First Christmas

Today was Babe-O's first Christmas and before the week is over, she'll also get Christmas number two and Christmas number three under her belt. Being the popular little lady that she is, she has two sets of grandparents, a handful of great-grandparents, and assorted other family members waiting to celebrate with her.

But today was just our little family – Mom-O and me, along with the pet parade.

She woke up in her requisite Christmas PJ's (as did I, despite them seeming a bit more snug around the waist than I remembered) and we went downstairs to do the whole presents-under-the-tree thing.

Mom-O and I exchanged some very small gifts between the two of us, but the headline act was clearly Babe-O and her gifts. Full disclosure, my beautiful wife did receive among her gifts a brand new shower curtain – there I said it. Fellas, I don't recommend that you go there, but it feels good to get that off my chest.

Anyway, for a girl that isn't even four months old yet, Babe-O did a great job getting into her presents. She managed to get her little hands into the wrapping paper and tear it away and lit up when she saw each colorful new toy. She was a pretty cheap date, all things considered, and the handful of gifts that we got her were very well received.

Today was also cool because I got a new appreciation for Mom-O. All of Babe-O's presents were wrapped with different kinds of paper to indicate who gave her what – Mommy, Daddy, Santa – which made for an impressive looking little spread under the tree. Aside from that, she also unpacked all the toys, put in batteries, and got rid of all the stupid, stubborn packing materials before packing it all back in the box and then wrapping it up. So instead of opening up a present and then watching Daddy cut his finger off on the heavy-duty plastic wrapping and then searching for another three <expletive deleted> AA batteries, Babe-O got to pull of the wrapping, ditch the box, and play. Very cool – I hope the Mommy of the Year people are reading this.

And speaking of Mommy of the Year, Mom-O got me two of my favorite things: a bottle of whisky and a Sandra Boynton book to read with Babe-O. If you haven't read a Sandra Boynton book, I really recommend it. She's great. If you haven't had whisky then, well…you probably don't have kids.

But enough about my awesome presents. Another reason today was fun is that this is the first time that Babe-O has had any serious interest in toys, except the little ones that hang in her pack-n-play, which she will smile at and bat around with her hands. Now she can push buttons with her hand and watch motorized stuff move around. She's also got the coordination to grab something that is moving and is strong enough to have a little tug of war with you. The bottom line is that she is getting more and more fun every day. She'll be playing handball and beating me at Scrabble before we know it.

Even though it was just us today, she was pretty wiped out by bed time. She perked up in her bath, thanks to her new bath toys: stacking plastic cups that sieve water in different patterns. She loves pouring water and splashed around like a fish in shallow water when we put those in with her.

Now we've got her in bed and we are getting ready for tomorrow's trip to Mom-O's parents' house (an hour in the car) followed by my parents' house (eight hours in the car). Babe-O travels well, but wish us luck anyway.

And speaking of traveling, ol' Santa is going to have a rough time flying around tonight, at least in these parts. The wind is really howling and you can hear all sorts of stuff blowing around outside. It feels like the house is going to blow over.

Oh well…this storm shall pass. Merry Christmas, everybody!

Santa was here! (sorry you missed him)

Poor Babe-O. Tonight she ventured out with Mom-O while Daddy stayed home to finish up an unusually troublesome magazine article about the Cunard cruise line. Later I would learn that while I was bashing my head into the computer screen, Mom-O was bashing skulls in department store parking lots during the pre-Christmas Eve retail rush.

While my two best girls were out and about, I got a visit from Santa Clause. Every year a fire truck slowly makes its way through our neighborhood (and I assume others), complete with flashing lights and Santa standing on the back with a bullhorn. I'm not sure what he yells into the bullhorn, because the truck always makes the dogs go ballistic barking, but I assume it alternates between "Merry Christmas" and "Only you can prevent forest fires."

It's a pretty cool thing that our neighborhood has. Once when I was growing up, I saw the Easter Bunny in a police car, but that's a whole different story.

So Santa came and went while Babe-O was experiencing the true spirit of the holiday, throwing elbows in the aisles at Target. Which is too bad, because so far it seems like she really gets into the holiday spirit. She freekin' loves a little singing reindeer that Mom-O's aunt and uncle were kind enough to send us home with the last time we visited. She'll watch that thing dance around all day if you let her. She's also a big fan of this year's stuffed Hallmark holiday figures, which dance around and sing about binge holiday eating.

Holiday aside, she just likes stuff with flashing lights – so I do wish she could have seen it.

Oh well…Ho ho ho. There's always next year!

Courtesy flush

You know what makes my day, 100 percent of the time? When my beautiful baby girl flutters her eyes up at me just as her little butt is releasing a dump that could choke a camel. You can always tell when she's got one in the chamber. She'll settle down, get very quiet, and start wringing her tiny hands together. After a few minutes, she'll start to twitch her legs, fumbling for something to brace against.

A really good Daddy like me knows just how to hold her so she can really fire one off. Please e-mail me if you need help in this area and I will be more than happy to walk you through it. Once Babe-O is in position for a bit, she'll bite down on her lip, kick one leg out, and let one go loud enough to make a trucker blush.

At this point her diaper poofs out like an air bag and, assuming she is diapered with great care, she does not blow poop all over herself and those around her.

From there, the trick is just to make sure she's done before you try to defuse the little package she's prepared. Because if you get ambitious and start unwrapping before she's done, Babe-O is guaranteed to strike again at the exact moment when the old diaper is off and the new diaper is not on.

Of course, if she carries on for too long, you start getting into full diaper territory, which means that you need to either make the quick switch or learn the hard way about the breaking point of disposable elastic. It's pretty much a courtesy flush for babies.

Daddy does my hair.

I'm a new dad. And this is a new blog.

It's all about my baby girl (Babe-O) who I love the crap out of with the help of my lovely and wonderful wife (Mom-O).

This blog picks up a few months after an old one left off. To bring yourself up to speed and learn what it's like to be married to a crazy pregnant lady, visit Who are you (and what are you doing in my wife)?.

I hope you'll follow along and watch me watch Babe-O grow up. With any luck, you'll think it's funny and/or insightful and come back often.

Right now, Babe-O is just over three and a half months old. She is lucky enough to have a great Mom that stays home with her every day. I spend the days at work, and am always eager to get home and see the family.

Oh, and just so you don't underestimate the chaos we face every day – the family is made up of (in order of seniority) Babe-O, Mom-O, Lola (dog), Harry (cat), me (whipped), Maggie (another dog), and Jack (one more dog).

As far as being a Dad goes, I'm learning as I go. I never had a younger sibling or any younger relatives. In fact, unless I'm forgetting somebody, I'm pretty sure that the first baby I ever held was my own.

So yes, Babe-O might someday tell you that Daddy does her hair, but that doesn't mean he's any good at it.

I like to think that my heart's in the right place, though. And with any luck, that'll be enough.