The Sickie.

     I have a little cold right now and a slight fever. Apparently, that's enough to put me in some kind of hermetically sealed room on medical lock-down just this side of a leper colony. Right now, Evaline is getting more antibodies than anyone else in this house and if she gets sick at this point it's not like she's going to be missing any school or work. Now, before I start getting hate mail, I do understand an adult cold can potential become a baby killer, but it's a long shot. But I guess it's better to be safe than sorry.
     The weird thing is I actually want to be in there, you know? I feel like I'm in little league soccer all over again just hoping the coach will put me in. "Come on, Coach! I can do it! I know I didn't put that last diaper on correctly and poo got on your shirt...and I know I keep leaving dirty diapers in the crib...but I can do this man! One for the Gipper?" While I'm not a Notre Dame fan, I still get it. The point is to win. With parenthood, at this current time and place, that means keeping the baby alive. Anything short of that is pretty much considered a big "L". So, spreading my sick breath all over Evy probably isn't a good thing. I still don't think Catie should make me sleep in the guest bedroom, but I gotta listen to Coach...I mean Catie.

The Realizations

     Here are some of the things I've discovered in the first week of fatherhood:

1. Eventually, everything becomes a burp rag.
   
2. No matter how much they poop, there's always a little left.
   
3. The importance of the cleanliness of foolers/binkies/pacifiers is directly inverse to the immediacy of its demand.
   
4. If you're dropping a laptop and a baby, it's good when you catch the baby.
   
5. Women are just as amazed at their ability to lactate as we are.
   
6. Dogs love to lick babies feet. I don't know why, they just do.
   
7. There are never enough diapers. Costco couldn't keep up with that kind of demand.
   
8. Bellybuttons are gross.
   
9. Sleep is precious.
   
10. Kids are worth it.

The Rambo.

     Okay, yesterday was the first time we took Evy out. I mean, this was the first time we took her further than one city block. As I was packing the diaper bag, going through a mental list of everything we might need and how much of it should be packed, I had the recollection of the Rambo/Hot Shots Part Deux where the Rambo character is getting ready to kill everyone and he ties his headband tight, pulls his boot laces up, slams the giant knife into the sheath, ties some memento around his neck, and with renewed vigor charges out to defeat an undefeatable army. Packing the diaper bag is about as close as I'm ever going to come to prepping for battle. Now, there have been times in my life where I have gotten into some scraps, but there was rarely time to prep. I kinda wonder how long it will take for this to become ritual and second nature. In the mean time, I'll revel in the process.

The Normal.

     I've never been so wrapped up in the pursuit of normal. Ever. How much she's supposed to weigh, how often she should poop, pee, eat/drink, sleep, everything. I don't know what to expect or what's right. I've never had one before so I don't know what I'm supposed to pay attention to and what I shouldn't worry about it. I have never really cared how this much about what's considered normal. I don't even want exceptional, I just want what's right.

The Disbelief.

     This is my daughter. If I did my math right, that means I'm a father. I have changed her diapers, burped her, and woken up constantly to care for her. All of these are further indications that I am not only A father, but HER father. The thing is, I still feel like I'm babysitting. Not sure what I was expecting, some magic switch was supposed to get flipped and BAM I'd feel like a dad. I'm not worried, though. I know it will change and I know I love her, but a dad? I just don't feel like it yet. Of course, it could just be the sleep deprivation has a general numbing sensation... Now that I think about it, the lack of sleep thing may very well be it. I'll check back later.

The Validity.

     So, my baby girl is here. I'm no longer a (complete) hypocrite for running fatherade. And what have I learned in the first 24 hours? Get a hair cut. Seriously. So far I've been prepping myself pretty perfectly for this kid. I cut the chord without passing out, I felt totally helpless in the delivery room, I've already cleaned up three meconium filled sticky gross diapers, and I did a bunch of dishes in the days leading up to the birth. What I forgot about, what never popped into my head? I should've gotten a haircut. These pictures are going to be on our walls for years and I look kinda like a hobo. So there you go, my first advice as a father to expecting dads: get a haircut.

The Anagram.

Catie is in active labor so here's the anagram. Good luck! "Do even all mice lie, sir?"

Just put your best guess in the comments section and I'll try to check it when I can.

The Waiting.

     Sorry it's been so long between posts. I realize not many of you have been coming out & checking up on me. The blame falls squarely on my shoulders for not updating this thing with kitschy and pithy sayings you've all grown accustomed to. Well, it's not gonna happen now either. Catie is almost a full week past her due date, it's finals week for me, and this baby is just chilling. I thought preparing for this kid was going to be the hardest thing. We finally moved in our place with the help of her parents and a bunch of friends (thanks everyone!) & we're now just sitting in parenting limbo. More posts will soon follow, & here's hoping they won't involve stories of me dropping the baby, allowing her to roll of the changing table, or straight up forgetting where I put her. That last one happens a lot with other things & I'm seriously considering putting one of those whistling key chains on the baby so I can clap & just follow the sound. Some of my spare time has been spent reading baby books, but I'm hoping Catie & I will just find a parenting groove that works with baby and we'll just go from there.
     Our church has been instrumental in helping us prepare for the new kiddo. I had no idea we needed so many things. How have people been doing this for thousands of years without this much stuff? There's just no way to comprehend it.
     Last thing: We haven't told ANYONE the baby's name. So here's the deal. I made an anagram that contains all the letters for her name. As soon as Catie's water breaks I'm going to post it on Fatherade & all of you can take a crack at it. Follow my tweets or subscribe to this blog so you won't miss it because I doubt I'll be able to call all of you when it's time. Thanks everyone, & I promise the adventures are just beginning.