Dad's Diary: First Football Game

By Scott
BabyBlogAddict.com

An outdoor football game with a three-year-old -- his first -- is kind of like Forrest Gump's box of chocolates reference: you never know what you're gonna get.

Our alma mater, the University of Southern Mississippi, was visiting Orlando to play the University of Central Florida right down the road from BBA headquarters. Jack and I have watched a lot of football through his first three years, so we thought the timing was right. I asked Jack if he wanted to go see the Golden Eagles play and he answered with an emphatic "yes!".

Perfect.

We parked a 20-minute walk from tailgating and the stadium, and Jack had it easy. A comfortable ride in the stroller to the Southern Miss alumni tailgating area left us a little winded, but Jack was just hitting his stride. He got a brownie, a button for his shirt and some shakers for the stands. His "Go Eagles" chants began there and continued into the stadium. As we walked to our seats with Jack riding on my shoulders and UCF fans filing by, he shook his shakers and continued loudly cheering for the Eagles. It was hilarious.

Once in our sun-drenched seats, Jack cheered and yelled some more. The UCF fans around us couldn't help but smile. He could have continued for hours, but we were exhausted. The game was less than entertaining (Southern Miss won 15-7), so we decided to leave at halftime. The 20-minute walk back to the car seemed longer this time, but Jack, enjoying another stroller ride, was an angel. We got back to the car and headed home. Jack was asleep in minutes.

His first football game was a success. And for a three-year-old, he was into it much more than I expected.

Dad's Diary: First Tent

By Scott
BabyBlogAddict.com

I made a tent tonight for the first time in decades. My cousin and I used to make them all the time and they would stretch wall-to-wall across his room. It was quite a sight to behold.

Tonight's tent -- Jack's first -- was contructed quickly and with limited supplies but, to him, it was like the Taj Mahal. He doesn't know that it could be better and he doesn't care. All he knows is that he can climb inside, pile things in there with him and call it his own. It's his sanctuary and he's the boss.

In my mind there are very few things better than seeing a child's excited eyes light up when they're exposed to new, exciting things.

Something as simple as grabbing two blankets and a couple of chairs quickly reminded me what being a father is all about. It's just a tent, but it connected my childhood to his.

Dad's Diary: Swearing by Swaddling

By Scott
BabyBlogAddict.com

Before Jack was born, I wasn't too sure about swaddling. I knew Jesus was swaddled, but how he got that way was a mystery. Despite my uncertainty, once I watched a helpful DVD and had an in-hospital lesson, I was a swaddling pro. Jennifer was a natural; like other things in parenthood, I had to learn on the job. But something happened between the hospital and home. We somehow forgot about swaddling.

After a couple of rough nights with Jack, we realized we hadn't done it since we were at the hospital - a big mistake that was quickly corrected.

Once we started swaddling him again, he slept like a baby (pun intended). We hardly heard a peep between feedings, as long as he was wrapped up nice and tight.

He may go off to college with his swaddling blankets.

Someone back in Baby Jesus' day must have known a thing or two about kids.

Previous Dad's Diary entries:
:: Hospital Lockdown
:: 12 Days Early?!
:: Breastfeeding Class
:: Beyond the First Five Minutes
:: Goodbye, Pacifiers
:: And More...

Dad's Diary: Hospital Lockdown

By Scott
BabyBlogAddict.com

Our son came into the world in grand fashion. Not only did he arrive 12 days early, but he also managed (with the help of his uncle) to launch a full lockdown of the hospital.

Jack's ankle monitor fell off and it was put aside to deal with later. When Uncle G arrived at the room, he pulled it apart to try to get it back on Jack's leg.

Big mistake.

Almost immediately, a nurse called the room to see if we had the baby, the elevators were stopped and, as far as we know, the rest of the hospital was briefly as secure as The White House. Oops.

Heightened security like that should make parents feel good, however, especially considering what happened down the road from BBA Headquarters a few months ago.

Dad's Diary: 12 Days Early?!

By Scott
BabyBlogAddict.com

With Jack nearing his third birthday, I've been thinking back lately to the day he was born. As prepared as we thought we were, that's how utterly unprepared we were. We took all the classes - child birth, breastfeeding and infant CPR - but nothing really gets you ready for The Day except The Day itself. For us, The Day came 12 days before it was supposed to.

Jennifer was as typically uncomfortable as a very pregnant woman could be, but we just chalked it up to her inching closer to the due date. We had never done this before. We didn't know she was actually having contractions during that episode of Lost. So the next day Jennifer went in for a scheduled appointment and never left. Turns out the non-stress test showed Jack was under stress (why do they call it a non-stress test anyway?) and needed to get out pronto. I had just gotten home from work when Jennifer called to ask if I wanted to have our baby that day.

In near shock, I muttered something like, "Do we have to? How about tomorrow?"

No dice. The baby wasn't waiting.

But we were supposed to have 12 more days! We had a farewell to D.I.N.K. (double income no kids) dinner planned at Ruth's Chris that weekend. I still had to buy the video camera. Was the nursey ready? It didn't matter. We were going to have our first child in about five hours.

I grabbed Jennifer's bag, zipped over to Best Buy to pick up the camcorder, then sped to the hospital. Total time from call to hospital arrival: 40 minutes. I was impressed. Soon after, Jack arrived into the world on a beautiful October evening. We had a son. Everything that happened before 6:01 p.m. that day didn't seem to matter anymore.

No, we weren't ready, but you adjust. We had a happy (relatively) and healthy baby that made us forget just how unprepared we were to be parents a few short hours ago.

So he's almost three. Where did the time go? Now instead of wondering when he'll get here and what he'll be like, I'm wondering about what food he's swiping from the pantry and if he'll ever actually tell us when he has to make #2.

:: Dad's Diary runs Sundays on BabyBlogAddict.com ::

Dad's Diary: Breastfeeding Class

By Scott
BabyBlogAddict.com

WHEN it was time for our breastfeeding class I was nervous. That's a weird place for guys to be. But Jennifer assured me that other husbands would be there to support their wives. After all, support is one of the keys to successful breastfeeding right?

As we prepared to make our grand entrance into the hospital's classroom, I couldn't help thinking about the possibility I'd be the only guy there. Thankfully, I wasn't. There were two other guys in a room full of pregnant women. My first thought was, "Where are these guys? They're letting their wives do this alone?" Then it dawned on me that they might have realized in advance what I realized once the class started: maybe we shouldn't be there. Case in point: one of the first things we witnessed was the lactation consultant massaging a fake breast (a lot) then sticking it into a fake baby's mouth.

Despite the intense mental scarring, I did retain some useful nuggets. Did you know a cabbage leaf can be used to soothe engorged breasts? I also found out about positioning, suction and the type of stool breast milk produces. All things guys need to know. Just in case the wife forgets.

It's all about support. Even if we're never able to look at breasts the same again.

:: Dad's Diary appears Sundays on BabyBlogAddict.com ::

Dad's Diary: Beyond the First Five Minutes

By Scott
BabyBlogAddict.com

Way back on August 4, 2005, two months before Jack was born, I said the following to some friends of ours: "You know that five minutes when you hold someone else's baby, then you hand it back? I'm good up to that point, but what do you do after that?"

I was serious. That was the extent of my exposure to babies. And, at the time, that was enough. You get to hold someone else's new baby for a short period of time, remark at how unbelievably cute she is, make silly faces and sounds, and quickly give the little tike up when she starts making sounds of her own.

Ultimately, dads are forced to learn on the job. First-time moms seem to have a natural leg up because of that maternal instinct thing; no one ever talks about a paternal instinct. For us, it's baptism by fire because we, apparently, have no instincts. I will admit to being clueless at the beginning. I had never changed a diaper before Jack came along. But at some point you're forced to do things of which you never thought yourself capable. Like the ribs day. Jack was rarely sick as a baby, but a summer Saturday was just one of those days.

We were headed to lunch at this great place for ribs. Halfway there, out of nowhere, Jack threw up all over himself, the car seat, the backseat of my car, the door and whatever else was within his projectile vomiting range. The scene and the smell were awful. We pulled to the side of the road and quickly evacuated the car that I thought would never be the same. Jennifer immediately went to remove vomit-covered Jack from the vomit-covered car seat, which resembled the aftermath of a gallon of vanilla ice cream left inside a car on a hot day.

When Jennifer started to gag and was rendered useless in the cleanup effort, I had to take over. I picked him up and, remarkably, was oblivious to what was now all over my hands and shirt. And believe me, I have a weak stomach. I handed off Jack to Jennifer and got to work on the car's interior, which I thought was ruined. Luckily I had a towel in the back of the car and there were wipes in the diaper bag. After a 15 minute cleanup and decontamination process on the side of the road in 100 degree heat, we were finally ready to hit the road again.

We went straight home. No ribs. And I learned a lot about what you do after the first five minutes.

:: Dad's Diary appears Sundays on BabyBlogAddict.com ::

Dad's Diary: Goodbye, Pacifiers

By Scott
BabyBlogAddict.com

The pacis are gone. All four of them. It didn't take Jack long to move on. I've had a much more difficult time.

Sure he's three months from turning three, and we probably waited a little longer than most to get rid of the stupid things, but he was so cute with them and slept so well we (I) didn't want to mess with a good thing. Jennifer had been pushing to get rid of the pacis for a while, but I was resistant. It was his last link to "baby," so I wanted to hang on as long as possible. Months ago we started limited his use of them to naptime and bedtime, but, still, during the day he would quietly sneak into his room and steal them from his bed like he was on a top secret special ops mission. When he was being goofy, he'd sometimes put three or four of them in his mouth at once. Or he'd have one in each hand, one in his mouth and one balanced on top of the paci and nestled under his nose.

Jennifer finally got to me and we made the decision to put an end to the paci madness. We laid the groundwork for a few days by telling Jack that "Baby Nick," an infant friend of ours, needed his pacis. Despite some early doubts, Jack was very receptive to the idea of giving them away. He kissed them goodbye, carefully put them in an envelope, walked to the mailbox in a steady drizzle and bid them farewell. That first night was much better than expected (even though he was definitely second-guessing his decision at bedtime) and he's only asked for them a few times since then. We softened the blow when we returned from the mailbox by providing an instant thank you note from Baby Nick, along with a toy surprise. Jack played with his new toy. I reflected on his loss.

Our baby is no longer a baby and I'm not happy about it. If I'm like this now, what's it going to be like when he heads off to kindergarten? Or high school? Are dads supposed to be this sappy?

:: Dad's Diary appears Sundays on BabyBlogAddict.com ::

Dad's Diary: Pregnancy Cravings

By Scott
BabyBlogAddict.com

Aren't pregnancy cravings great....to laugh about? There are so many differing opinions about cravings that it's hard to keep track. Which cravings are good? Which are bad? For a dad, they're probably all bad because a craving more than likely means we're heading out on a moment's notice to fetch something ridiculous for the high-maintenance woman of our dreams. Of course, high maintenance is meant in the nicest possible sense of the phrase.

Jennifer's pregnancy cravings weren't that bad and there were only a few: snowballs (or shaved ice or snowcones depending on where you live), cheez balls and ribs. The hunt for cheez balls was an adventure. We weren't able to find any at the local Wal-Mart or Winn Dixie over the course of a couple of days, so we thought they didn't exist anymore. Neither of us had had them in years. Luckily, she stumbled upon them at the Shell gas station next door to her office. Life could continue. Sadly, to the dismay of many, it seems they have been discontinued.

Why do pregnant women crave what they crave? There aren't many answers to that question, but at least one study, published in the Indian Journal of Public Health fourteen years ago, tried to shed some light on the issue. The study surveyed 1,000 women and 47.3 percent reported craving certain foods. Of that, "65 percent craved sour food, 40 percent unripe fruits, 47 percent meat and fish, 30 percent ripe fruits and 22 percent breadfruit."

But I guess we can take all that with a grain of salt. The study also says that "pregnancy cravings [were] significantly higher in women who married after a love affair than in those who had [an] 'arranged' marriage," as well as in "women who were superstitious (e.g. believed in devil dancing) than in those who were not."

The bottom line, dads, is that no matter what our wives crave, we have to support the silly randomness of their requests. They are carrying our child after all.

:: Dad's Diary appears Sundays on BabyBlogAddict.com ::

Dad's Diary: InJEANious Idea!

By Scott
BabyBlogAddict.com

Most moms want to wait as long as possible before sliding into those maternity clothes. It seems to be kind of a challenge among the pregnant set: delay the inevitable as long as possible. And why not? Maternity clothes, from what I hear, are really no fun at all, so why rush into them? There is, however, a line that should not be crossed. When the time comes future moms, accept it. Don't be the very pregnant lady wearing just a jogging bra and pants exposing all of her at least eight months worth of stomach. Have some self-respect. But really, maternity clothes aren't even that bad anymore. Easy for me to say, I know, but Google backs me up.

While you're still trying to ward off the stork, try this: about three months into her pregnancy someone told my wife about the rubber band trick that helps jeans fit a little longer as the waistline expands. What an idea! And neither she nor I would have ever thought of it. Make the most out of those clothes for as long as you can, moms-to-be, but please, know when to say when.

:: Dad's Diary appears Sundays on BabyBlogAddict.com ::

Dad's Diary: Overwhelmed by Registering

By Scott
BabyBlogAddict.com

When you're a first-time parent there is a lot to think about between finding out that your wife is pregnant and the due date. Will we find out what it is? When do we tell everyone? Which room will become the nursery? How do you change a diaper? Are we even qualified to be parents? While exciting, it can also be a frustrating experience. Some of the most frustration, for a dad-to-be anyway, comes when it's time to register for baby gifts. One of our stores of choice was Babies-R-Us, which should be outlawed. Way too many options. To help us wade through the array of possibilities we enlisted the help of one of my wife's college friends who had two young children. I highly recommend bringing along someone familiar with the experience.

It took us almost a half hour to get started because the lady who was helping us sign up thought it was time to chit chat and giggle instead of register. When the mission was finally underway it was clear I was there for one reason: to help with the big stuff. I could handle the car seat, stroller, pack'n play, bouncy seat, swing...and a mirror, of course. Any child of mine had to have a good car mirror. But my influence quickly waned when the subject turned to The Pump. We registered for something called Pump in Style. They make it sound like if you're pumping with this thing, there's no one out there doing it better. For the price, it should feed the baby for you.

I didn't get to register for a very comfy chair and ottoman that afternoon, but it briefly served a valuable purpose. At least we got the best pump out there. But future dads should prepare themselves; no man should ever have to see his wife actually use the pump.

:: Dad's Diary appears Sundays on BabyBlogAddict.com ::

Dad's Diary: It's a Mom's World

By Scott
BabyBlogAddict.com

Us dads, before we're officially Dads, aren't quite sure how this whole parenting thing will work out. We've seen other guys, whom we've deemed far inferior to us, thrust into the parenting world and somehow, against all odds, they make it. We, too, should be able to master this. Why do we doubt ourselves? Because society makes us! It's a mom's world out there - everything relating to kids is built around them. Mother's Day Out. Playgroups. Magazines. We're trying to break into this huge fortress, but the gates are locked tight and there are big, burly guards out front keeping us at bay.

When our son was an infant, we had a wonderful nanny who stayed with him from 7 a.m. and 1 p.m. My work schedule allowed me to fill the gap between 1:00 p.m. and 5:30 p.m. when my wife got home. I took pride in the fact that every afternoon when we packed up the stroller and hit the road for a long walk I was the only dad out there. At the same time, it drove me nuts when moms out for a stroll with their little ones brought up the fact that I was "babysitting." How often are moms asked if they're babysitting? Let's go out on a limb and say never. So on this Father's Day, here's a message to all the people out there who rank dads just above the yard guy: we're trying to get used to this whole idea of being a dad. Don't make it more difficult for us. Embrace us! Welcome us in as one of your own! We may even surprise you every now and then and fail to come up with an excuse to get out of changing that dirty diaper.

This is the first installment of Dad's Diary. There will be more. Maybe weekly. We'll see. If you have ideas for future Dad's Diary columns, e-mail us.