The Memory.

     You should check out this article. Apparently, "they" have found a way to test newborns and it turns out they have memories. They can tune into parent's voices and remember the feelings they had while in the womb. It makes me wonder what else the baby can remember...and for how long. I don't personally have any memory of my circumcision, but apparently I did for some point after my birth. Also, there's the issue of sex during pregnancy. Is my kid going to remember that? I really hope not.
     Regardless, there are some things parents should do while they're expecting. Talking to the baby, rubbing the belly, even mom should be talking to herself when alone. It can help the baby's mental development in general. So, when nothing is going on, just reach over and rub that belly. It's important to be in touch with your kid, even before they're born, not only for them, but also for you. As a father, we don't get any of the bonding time that happens during breastfeeding. And unless you're Peter Griffin, I wouldn't recommend trying to breastfeed your kid. So, talking and touching and just making the effort is hugely important. It also sets the stage for you to be in the practice of trying to connect with your child, and that's what a parent is all about.
     *Special thanks to Lynn Reader for the heads up about this article.

The Security.

     It's a form of light torture when the Tiger Direct catalog comes to my house. The deals they offer are great and I have ordered several things from them and been very happy. But with the economy still down turned and a baby on the way, I have very little money to splurge on electronics. The other thing is that some of the products they offer seem somewhat ridiculous to me. I use to think the security cameras they offered were pretty strange. But now that I'm having a daughter, a nine camera security system with night vision and networking capabilities seems like a reasonable purchase.

The Safety.

     Why should I baby proof my house? If you ask me, that's going directly against Darwinism, and that's the same as going against nature. So what if the little one drinks a little floor cleaner, inhales a bit of Ajax, rubs a some bleach in the eye. That's just God weeding out the weak. And sticking those plastic covers in the wall socket? Well, how do you suppose Franklin first fell in love with electricity...uncovered wall socket! That's how! Why would I deprive my child of that experience? I'm sorry, but I want to be a good parent! And while we're on the subject, what's so terrible about lead based paint? That stuff lasts forever!

The Blogging.

     National Public Radio ran an interesting piece yesterday about moms, and to a lesser extent dads, who blog. What began as an honest attempt to create community through personal honesty has devolved into a desperate scramble for goodie-bags, free crap, and the Holy Grail: a full time job blogging supported by sponsors with deep pockets.
     I should confess there have been perks from this blog, but they've been pretty shallow. I got a free shirt and a bottle of stretch mark oil. The stretch mark oil came as a thank you for an unsolicited review I did for Earth Momma, Angel Baby. The t-shirt came when someone asked me to review a site. I had no problem with this because it didn't affect the content of my site. I'd be writing the same thing regardless of what I was offered. Yet NPR makes a somewhat convincing case that bloggers may be selling out in order to get free junk.
     This can become a test of integrity, and I hope it's one that I will pass. Ultimately, I hope this blog helps parents and can become a resource for men. Eventually, it will be a full fledged site acting as a gateway for men to get information and help during all phases of parenting. But mostly, right now, and while I'm writing my posts, this blog is about me. I'm new to this, I have no idea what I'm doing, and there are a lot of things I wish someone would have told me. Hopefully, my experience can help someone else. If not, at the very least it has helped me.

The Naming.

     There's an earlier post about the importance of a name. Names mean things, they're important. Now we know we're having a girl, the responsibility of naming just became more real because we don't have to choose between Jack or Jill, we have to decide between Jill and Janet. You'd think that having a book with 60,000 baby names would provide enough ideas. Apparently not.
     Baby center has some interesting concepts, but I'm not sure if 80's movies or comic book characters are good sources for my daughter's name. "Hey Honey, guess what, I named you after the Celtic Goddess of Motherhood...because I just didn't care enough to put the proper amount of energy into finding an appropriate name we thought would fit you." That should go over real well. The other option is figuring out how "normal" you may want your kids name. BabyNamesWorld.com has a nice page where names are ranked, making it easy to increase the chances that when you shout "JACOB, PUT THAT DOWN!!!" dozens of children will drop whatever they have in their hands at that time: with Jacob being numero uno in popularity. In fact, I'm considering taking a poll to see what everyone else thinks I should name my daughter. Any suggestions?

The Meconium.

     Meconium is gross. I'm not even going to try and find a good picture for it. There are only two types of meconium I know of. There are probably other types, but I don't want to know about them because the two types I do know of make me want to throw up.
     The first type is the goo that comes out of an adult butterfly after it emerges from its chrysalus. The other type of meconium is the goo that comes out of a baby's backside. The very first poo your kid has is going to be black, awful, and awful. Just thought you should know.

The Colostrum.

     If you don't know what colostrum is, that's okay. If you know what colostrum is but are surprised to see it in a container, that's okay too. Either way, colostrum can be surprising. Really, really surprising.
     Everyone knows breast make breast-milk after delivery. What not everyone knows is that before breasts start making milk, they start making a little thing called colostrum. Colostrum is made in tiny amounts in humans, larger amounts in bovines. The bovine type is what's in the bottle pictured above, and apparently you can cook with it. What I want you to know, is that it can pop up during sexual stimulation of the breasts and/or areolae. That should be enough said...you've been warned.

The Challenge.

     I have a challenge for all the men out there. If you think you're man enough to do it, the benefits will be unmeasurable. Seriously. I recommend using a day timer or good phone calendar for this, because it's hard to keep track after a few months.
     Pick an important date for you and your wife/significant other. On that date, write her a note. It doesn't have to be anything fantastic or Shakespearean, just one paragraph (which is a minimum of three sentences) that states why the date you've chosen is important for you both. Then, -- and this is the important part -- you are going to promise (and I do mean solemnly swear) to write her one note, every week for the next 12 months.
     The notes don't have to be huge or long or anything, but they do need to be current, true, and meaningful. Tell her what is going on with yourself, what you appreciate about her, and what you're looking forward to. Trust me, she will love it. And if she's anything like my wife she'll keep the notes and at the end of one year you'll both look back at all the changes that have happened. It will be incredible and the two of you will be closer than you imagined. Trust me.

The Story.

    I'm all for making a world that's safe for children. The installation of pillow flooring would be a good thing. Wrapping every sharp corner in bubble wrap, converting all cars to bumper cars with a maximum speed of 12 mph, and installing cameras in every classroom are just for starters. But there are some things children cannot and probably should not be protected from.
     One of those things is death. I know I say it now and it will probably be different when the "death talk" has to happen, but hopefully I won't feel the need to lie about death. It happens to everyone, it's going to happen to you, there's nothing you can do about it. Sorry. But some people are going out of their way to sterilize fantasy in order to make reality less abrasive. Let me give you an example:
     The classic children's tale, Peter and the Wolf is pretty gruesome. People and animals are devoured, a wolf is skinned alive and disemboweled, horrors and atrocities are committed. But people felt they were too scarred by the telling of this story when they were young, and so made changes to make it more palatable; Disney being the least of the perpetrators. Huge changes are made where at the end of the story, no one gets hurt, life is wonderful, and carnivores are really just vegans that haven't learned the joy of eating vegetables yet.
     I hate to break it to you, but life isn't like that. Wolves kill and eat animals. It's what they do. What do you think those teeth are for? Like I said, I'm all for making the world a safer place for our children, but is it really any safer if we lie to them? Reality can be cruel, but it can also be beautiful. To disparage one is to minimize the other. To swing the pendulum too far the other way is also unacceptable. Using fear to control our children is just another way to lie. Instead, how about we try doing what we expect our children to do: Tell the truth. If we can't do it, how can we expect it from them?

The Hungry.

     I have learned this the hard way. Just because your wife/partner/baby's momma makes the statement that she's "Hungry hungry" in no way makes it permissible to follow it up with the word "Hippo". No matter how funny it might be.

The Ghetto.

     I substitute teach in a juvenile hall and I've had some wake-up calls lately. Today we were working on an essay and one of the students wrote about how they wanted to be a good father for their kids. How they have to stop gang-banging so they can spend time with their children. They know how to talk about "stopping the cycle of violence", and how they never had a father. Through all of this, I can't help but think how lucky I am to have had a father that has supported me even when I didn't deserve it. And there were definitely times when I didn't deserve support.
     So now I look at Fatherade and I know it's not enough. There are men out there who are really trying to be more than their father was, but they just don't know how. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Showing up is a big step. That doesn't mean showing up on birthdays and holidays is enough. It means being there for your kid regardless of what else is going on. The tools and skills it takes to be a father develop over time and no website, book, or training seminar is going to substitute for experience (regardless of what they claim). So sticking it out and staying around is the second best thing you can do for your children. The first? That's loving their mother as best as you can. When they see your love for her is unfaltering, they'll know you love them too.

The Cost.

     Went to Target the other day to pick up some shampoo. We just went to get shampoo, that was it. All of a sudden we're in the baby department having small heart attacks when we looked at the baby products we're going to buy. Are you serious? I'm supposed to drop two bills on something that will only last a couple of months? There's conversion car seats that might last a little longer, but come on!
     We did look at some Graco products that were promising. The neat thing about those products is they are designed to morph from newborn/infant to toddler. It's pretty rad. It might make the money go a little further, and at this point, that's exactly what we need. If we end up buying any Graco products, I'll be sure to review them on this site, in brutal detail.

The Comment.

     I made a comment today that really made me think. I was walking down the street and a woman was pushing a stroller through downtown with two large mastiff's in tow. The mastiff's were panting and happy, the baby was sleeping and at peace, and she was looking stylish and put together. As we were getting ready to pass on the street I said, "Those are beautiful dogs you have there!" I'm not kidding, that's exactly what I said.
     Did I make a comment about how beautiful she was or how beautiful her baby was? No. I implied that neither she, nor her daughter, were impressive enough to merit a comment from me. But the dogs? Oh, the dogs totally had deserved compliments. If I'm ever pushing a stroller with my daughter in it and my dog in tow, and someone tells me me dog is beautiful, I will straight up ask them if my daughter and I are chop liver. Heaven help them if they say yes...

The Job.

     There's an interesting correlation between therapy and parenting: the point is to reduce the other person's need for you. Sounds weird, but if think about it...If my kid is still living at home when they're 40, I've probably done something wrong along the way. Yet I hear a lot of parents complain their children don't want to be around them. Well, maybe we should reframe children trying to leave. Maybe they're trying to test out all the good stuff we gave them. If I try too hard to keep my kids near by when it's their time to leave, it's like teaching my kids to drive, and then not letting them get their drivers license. It just doesn't make sense.

The Girl.

     Well, it's official, I'm never going to sleep again: it looks like we're having a daughter. At least we think we're having a girl. The ultrasound technician said he couldn't see "anything" there. Well, not seeing something doesn't mean it's not there, it just means it isn't visible under current conditions. Regardless, due strictly to karma, I'm pretty sure it really is a girl; and I couldn't be happier!
     Just between us, I had a sinking suspicion I'd be disappointed if our kid was a girl. Turns out, I was wrong. Really, really wrong. I can't believe how excited I am! A girl...it's gonna be great. Sure, "The Ugg-o" post still stands in theory, but what I really want is for my little girl to be happy. Also, I hope it wouldn't be too much to ask to have a good relationship with her. Daddy's little girl? Ya, I'm way more than okay with that, I can't wait!

The Penny.

     That bright shiny thing that looks like it's a penny stuck in an esophagus? Well, it's actually a penny stuck in an esophagus...My friend's daughter got into her purse, swallowed a penny, and instead of it going through it turned sideways and got stuck right at the top of her stomach. Her daughter said she was feeling sick and after some intense questioning confessed to eating change. I'm not going so far as to say that the kid has pica, but it's not always good to just grab handfuls of non-nutritive substances.
     A visit to the emergency room and a couple of upper endoscopes later and she was just fine. The story acts is a reminder of what can happen if I stop watching my kids for a full ten seconds. I know things are going to happen, I know kids get hurt and that's just part of the growing up process. And I'm sure my kid is going to get into their fair share of potted plant soil and loose change; I know I did. Regardless, I hope she'll be okay and won't resent me too much.

The Pre-Birthday.

     Catie just got back from her baby shower in Ohio. It went better than we could have ever expected. Thanks to everyone who put it so much effort into it! I didn't have the opportunity to go because of work here in CA, but I saw the photos and it looked great. Catie got home and the first thing we started doing was to look up etiquette on "thank you" cards.
     It actually went so well, she couldn't bring everything home, so it got shipped here in a couple of boxes. It wasn't until I was going through everything it really dawned on me that we're having a baby. I know it's weird, but there was a giant box of diapers and I thought, "Wow, that should last about a week". I'm going to be a dad.
     All the things I thought I'd do differently than my parents, I know have a chance to do exactly the same. The patience I guaranteed myself is going to be tested by screaming and crying without interpretation. The love for my family will be met with, "I hate you! I wish I'd never been born!" just because I won't let them buy something. In about four months, I'll only be able to sit through half a movie before my kid freaks out. I'll only be able to sleep half the night before my kid freaks out. And I may only make it half way through the delivery before I freak out. Either way, it should be a lot of fun.

The Pitocin.

     Pitocin is a man made version of Oxytocin. They do pretty much the same thing: bring on the contractions. And I'm not talking about shortening a word and combining it with another one. I'm talking about the muscles of the uterine walls clamping down like a two-ton hydraulic vice on an egg. There are some key differences that women and men should be aware of.
     When it's time to become a daddy, oxytocin will be triggered and contractions will begin. Sometimes the water breaks right away, other times it takes a little while. Usually, when the uterus is ready, it's ready, and the baby comes and every thing is great. Other times, there either isn't enough oxytocin or there's just a stubborn uterus. Then, an IV will be placed with Pitocin. This will convert the aforementioned two-ton hydraulic vice to a nuclear powered atom smasher dwarfing the LHC. It's gonna be bad.
     With oxytocin or pitocin, blood flow to the uterus is interrupted. This isn't a big deal with oxytocin because it naturally comes in spurts, intermittently restoring blood flow with no harm and no foul. But IV delivered pitocin is a constant stream. This means the baby has to be monitored more closely than normal, which can be restrictive to the mother's movements and can require many other things. So, it's recommended that pitocin try to be avoided, if at all possible. This is where father comes in. That's you. Some natural ways to encourage contractions include: Sex (if water hasn't broken), stimulating nipples, castor oil, or sex. Did I mention you could have sex? If the thought of having sex with a woman who is 900 months pregnant seems kinda weird, just think: it's going to be a while until it happens again. Consider it a gift of necessity.

The Inside.

     Ever wish the mother of your child had a womb with a view? Not only so the kid could see out, but so you could see in! Me too. No luck with plexiglass yet, but I will keep trying. Until then, try this link: Parents Connect

The Boob.

     Inspiration is found in some strange places. Take for instance this speed bump sign in Cabo San Lucas. It just looks like a pair of breasts to me, and considering the speed bumps on the road were not in pairs, it seems only reasonable to assume the sign was a practical joke started by Frank down in the Sign department at whatever the equivalency of the DMV is in Mexico. When, much to his chagrin, the guy who was supposed to see the sign, laugh, and approve the real one was out sick that day & it just went straight through to the presses.
     The signs reminded me of two things: the line in Naked Gun where Leslie Nelson says, "Everywhere I looked, I was reminded of her"; and the wonderful side effect of breast enlargement that pregnancy has. Since this isn't a movie review blog (in spite of what some may think), I'll focus on the second part.
     It's pretty great.

The Fragile.

    Apparently, pregnancy hormones will do some weird things to a body. There's one woman that when she got pregnant, instead of getting a nice even tan like usual, she got all splotchy with a bunch of white patches. There is a real skin condition that can happen in Barr bodies, but that happens all the time; not just during pregnancy. Also, my wife is getting heat rash on her knees. Why would anyone get heat rash on their knees? The only thing I can think is that pregnancy makes women fragile. Even a simple foot massage can induce labor. While that statement hasn't been fully backed up by science (or tested on Myth Busters), just that the idea is out there is pretty odd. Even so, I can't help but see images of mothers-to-be getting wrapped from head to toe in bubble wrap. I find myself apologizing often for just brushing up against Catie. She's pretty tough, but pregnancy does weird things to women. Weird things...

The Movement.

     Apparently, we don't need to talk about it, but the baby moving is a really weird experience. It only happens at certain times...usually after periods of sustained movement on Catie's part, followed by periods of relaxation. The odd thing is, Catie has to check with herself to see if it's gas or the baby moving. That can't be right.

The Stranger.

     With Catie being five months pregnant, she's wishing she looked more pregnant. I am fine with it, she's not. But something happened today that just may change her mind. We had just met a woman while in Cabo and told her how far along Catie was. She didn't believe us, but asked if she could "feel the baby". Her words, not mine. Being a good sport, Catie obliged and the touching began.
     The touching started a little high, if you ask me. Then, as it ranged South, Catie turned beet red and could no longer contain the nervous laughter. This was an awkward situation. Catie barely looked pregnant and there wasn't all that much to feel, so why was this lady all up on her? But this is supposed be just the beginning. When she's really starting to show, apparently people won't even ask. They just roll in and start caressing her stomach like there was an open invitation. It's usually women, but it's still weird. I feel like asking people to get their hands off my wife...is that wrong?
     As we walked back to the room, Catie admitted that it had been a little strange, but I don't think she was telling the whole truth. While it probably is awkward, I'm willing to bet there's a part of her that revels in it. A part that enjoys the attention and the affirmation of her ability to create life. So, if anyone wants to come over and affirm my ability to create AND sustain a beer belly, go for it. Just don't touch it without asking.

The 300.

     300. That’s the extra amount of calories a pregnant woman is supposed to take in every day. Admittedly, that is an average, but for the most part it’s true. There are some more specific calorie calculators out there, but nothing really compares to the advice of an obstetrician. Only 300 calories more than normal is recommended during pregnancy. Considering the fact that a 2000 calorie diet is recommended, 300 calories isn’t much more. But maybe that amount should be increased, and here’s why:
     I’ve already written about the dissatisfaction my wife is experiencing with her body. She’s five months pregnant now and no one can tell. It just looks like she has a little tiny beer belly. By the way, there are apparently no circumstances under which telling your wife she looks like she has a tiny little beer belly can be interpreted as a positive thing. The weird part is that during a conversation with a non-pregnant couple, the woman knew that 300 was the magic number for calories. How do women just know that? That’s so foreign to me! I’m not sure what 300 calories looks like, much less that it was the extra amount a pregnant woman should eat.
     But let me warn all men everywhere: it is not your job to restrict her calorie intake. While some women may use pregnancy as an excuse to stop dieting, that’s their prerogative, not yours. If you don’t believe me, just try coming between her and her food. Just try. I dare you.

The Ugg-o.

     If I have a girl, there is a part of me that wants her to be really ugly. Before you start sending hate-mail, let me explain.
     There is only a part of me that would want my daughter to be ugly. That is the part that wants to protect her from all the men in the world. I want to make sure she is kept from becoming one of those girls who uses her looks instead of her brains to get things. Pretty girls get all the attention in high school and college, but eventually looks fade. Then I'm left with this vapid offspring with some sense of entitlement that is totally undeserved. At that point, I will have failed.
     On the other hand, if she's ugly, she's going to have to work extra hard to get what she deserves. It's like naming a boy Sue. It will force her to be hard working and she will be proud of her accomplishments because they will be hers. And when the looks of the pretty girls fades to match hers, she'll be far above the rest of the women because her strength will come from her abilities instead of her looks. Plus I won't have to worry about her dating. Ever.
     Yet, the pain and heartache she'll experience if she's a real ugg-o is pretty brutal. Why would I wish so much pain on my child? Kids are mean, why would I want it to be worse?
     Maybe what I really want is a child that is confident for a good reason, and not just because of their looks. I know too many women who are good looking and they know they're good looking and they expect to be treated differently. If I can have a beautiful child without them becoming stuck up and self-involved, that would be my preference, but that seems to be the exception rather than the rule.

The Lullaby.

     EMI asked me to review their site on my blog. To be totally honest, I have no idea how well it fits with Fatherade, but I'll give it a shot. As near as I can figure, it's like Pandora, but with video. MTV on demand. Youtube with higher quality.
     One of the setbacks this company will experience is due to their lack of a cellphone app. The fact that they incorporate video into most of their songs it will be a little too heavy on the bandwidth for mobile phones to handle the stream. Another downfall is they only host artists that signed with EMI.
     This can be a good thing as well because unlike Pandora, you can request specific songs or artists. EMI has some good artists, and what they lack in diversity, they make up for in quantity. They have been around since the dawn of recording (just about) and have been instrumental in many past technological advances in sound recording, but to quote Janet Jackson, what have they done for me lately?
     On the other hand, I'm a pretty big Radiohead fan, and since they've put out 14 of their albums, 23 of their singles, and have 21 videos for a total of 363 tracks, I'll go to this site when I need a specific fix. If EMI has the artist you like, it's a great site for you, if you can handle the bandwidth. Otherwise, stick to a low streaming non-visual site like Pandora. If EMI comes out with a version that will play on the Wii, it would really fill a niche. While Finetune has a streaming Wii player, it's kind of a pain to navigate and getting the songs and style of music that you like is next to impossible.
     There is one "fatherly" use for this site: putting baby to sleep using music. Because it allows more control over what plays, there's no chance your "lullaby" playlist will suddenly burst into Insane Clowne Posse, effectively setting nap-time back a day...or two. Here's a link you can use for some quiet time songs. Who knows, maybe it will cure the colicky baby...

The Critic.

     My father once said I should never tell an artist their work was either good or bad. To do so was to imply I knew more about art than they did and was qualified to pass judgment on its quality by comparison to some ideal. What I could say, however, was how their work made me feel, what it made me think, what it inspired me to do. I could ask questions about how it made them feel, what it made them think of, and what inspired them to do it. Declaring critical judgment probably says more about the person judging than what is being judged. Yet, to talk about the personal impact art may have had on you can mean so much more.
     There is a similar practice in therapy. It's not my job, or even a good idea, to critique a client or offer them advice. Ultimately, they know their situation better than I ever will. If they take my advice and it all works out wonderfully, they have no ownership of that success and it can create a dependency on others. If my advice is terrible, I'm at fault and the world's worst therapist. However, if I don't give advice and instead help them figure out what it is they really want, then they get to own their success. I'm also always surprised by the options they come up with! They think of solutions and outcomes that wouldn't have darkened the doorstep of my brain.
     So it occurs to me: I should probably do the same thing with my kids. While I'm not expecting them to solve world hunger or anything, and I'll help when they ask for it. But if I solve their problems before they have a chance, what's going to happen when I'm not around? Ultimately, this gets back to the issue of being a critic. There are rights and wrongs in the world, and, at least for the first couple of years, I'm going to know more about that than my kid. But after that, there's not much more to "teach". The rest is just processing the learning that happens through experience. And maybe if I ease up on the critiquing, I'll notice less and less the good or bad in my child, and see more and more they are a reflection of something in me.

The Geek.

     Do you know a father who's a geek? A geek who's a father? Check this site out. You'll find something they'll like, or that you'll buy for yourself.



GEEK Dad

Enjoy.

The Fit.

     The picture to the left is blank on purpose. That's because a graphic for this post is pretty much impossible to come by while maintaining any sense of propriety. This is a family friendly blog, after all. A while ago I asked for your questions, and I got more than I expected. There was one question that I got more than any other, and I'm going to paraphrase it like this: "Is 'it' going to go back to the way it was after the baby's born?"
     So I have a feeling more men have this question than are willing to admit. What makes it so difficult is that we can't ask our wife/significant other/baby's momma without sounding like a self involved jerk. I've got good news and I've got bad news. The good news is yes, it can go back. The bad news is that it requires some work on her part. According to the Mayo Clinic The upshot of the bad news is that if she works at 'it' while she's pregnant, it will help labor go easier.
     Kegel exercises. They help so many things, and they're easy to do, or so I hear. The problem is, I can't imagine how I'd bring this up with my wife. Most women can be very self-conscious about this. While there is a way to work on it, it's not our place to bring it up. Luckily, it will probably come up in Lamaze class. That's why the information on the links in this page are for men. While it concerns women, it's only to answer our own fears, not to confirm theirs. Does that make sense?

P.S. Honey, don't read this post...

The Shoe.

     Necrotizing fasciitis is the flesh eating bacteria that can spread from a cut on your leg to your face and lead to death within 24 hours. It's not common, but it happens. As fast as that is, apparently, it's not nearly as fast as the rate of growth for a baby's foot. They'll go from a double-zero to a size two in the first six months! After that, it slows down a little, but not much. Why even buy shoes? It's not like the kid's running marathons anytime soon. Even if they were, it's not like the shoes would help. By the time they got done they'd need a new size anyway!
     Regardless, Trimfootco.com recommends that "as a general rule, foot growth should be measured every month for babies under one year, every 2 months for one to two-year olds and every 3 months for two to three-year olds". That's a lot of measuring. One way around this is getting shoes that mimic the bare foot. Robeez (pronounced Row-bees) claims to have shoes that act like the bare foot, and they're supposed to expand as your kid grows. While they're kind of expensive, they should last longer than normal shoes, so it might be worth it.
     Though this may not be interesting now, just think, this whole thing is solely about shoes. And no, that wasn't a pun. Imagine the infinite amount of onesies, bibs, diapers, socks, and heaven forbid you live in a non-temperate climate. Someplace with all four seasons, like the mid-West. What's infinity times 4? At the very least, you're up-to-date on the shoe thing.