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.

The Takeover.

Have you ever heard of a corporate takeover? It's when someone buys more than 50% of corporate stock without announcing it, then they roll in and tell everyone to kiss up to the new boss. The kid isn't even here yet and her stuff has slowly, but surely, been taking up more than 50% of our space. It's crazy! Then people tell us all these things we're still missing... I don't get it! This is a private takeover. Well, as private as can be. No one else seems to be surprised. She's not even here and she has more clothes than me! Being a GQ reader, that's saying something.

The Thanksgiving.

     Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I have so much to be thankful for right now, it's not even funny. I know I don't promote the fact that I'm Christian, and this site isn't necessarily just for Christians, but today I'm reminded of how thankful I really am, all I have to be thankful for, and why I have been taken care of the way I have. The "golden rule" of scripture is couched in a framework of parenthood (Matthew 7:10-12) and parents are to be models of God here on earth. The closer I get to having this little girl, the more I realize how God would do anything to care for me. All the things Catie and I have been dealing with in these last few months have only proven how much we're really cared for. We've always been provided a place to live, food to eat, jobs to do, and just the right amount of money. This Thanksgiving, I'm grateful my (new) family has brought me a greater understanding of what it really means to be loved by God. My faith has been renewed and I can't wait to see what is in store for us in the next few years. Happy Thanksgiving everyone. May we wake up every morning with thanks on our mind.

The Lamaze.

     Went to Lamaze class today. While most of the stuff in the class I already knew, there was a couple of things it provided I found helpful and one thing I couldn't have gotten anywhere else. The breathing exercises seemed to help and our instructor was honest about what to expect and how well they actually worked. This helped to make our expectations a little more accurate. The one thing I couldn't have gotten anywhere else is witnessing other couples in the same situation as Catie and I. Even though we were all at different places in our lives, we had similar questions, fears, and general confusion. It sounds odd to say, but there was a certain sense of solidarity in that confusion; at least for me there was. I saw that several other men were just as anxious and felt just as powerless as I did. I guess that it's only been Catie and I for so long now, I've kind been sucked into a whirlpool of our life, our future, and our plans. Seeing other people go through similar situations helped keep it all in perspective.

The Crunch.

     Well, Catie and I are coming down to the wire now. We have to be out of the place we're in now by the 15th, and hopefully we'll have a place to put our child before she comes. The funny thing is that we've working around this date of the 15th, but this kid is going to come when she wants to come. She doesn't know or care about where we're going to live, when we're going to go there, or what we're going to do with all the people that are coming in to see her. So, sorry I haven't been posting, but I promise I will give you a lot more after the 15th. Also, I'm going to be making a little video where I've interviewed a bunch of fathers. I'll cut it together when I have time, but I won't have time until after the 15th.

The Running.

     I'm glad my relationship isn't built on a lie because it'd be too hard to maintain; the lie, not the relationship. Could you imagine what it'd be like if the first time I met Catie I told her I was into running? I mean I could see the appeal; it'll make her think I'm healthy, in shape (read sexy), and disciplined. When, in actuality I'm not all that healthy, my shape is round (read pseudo-sexy), and the most discipline I have is stopping when the ice cream container is still half-full. Can you imagine the first day she'd ask me out to run? I show up in really new looking kicks and shorts that just seem too short on me, and I'm all, "WHEW! Yeah! Let's run!" We'd make it about three blocks (half a block) and if my wheezing didn't give me away, the collapsing that followed would. Then, as the paramedics resuscitated me, I'd make up some lame statement about how I'm use to running in colder weather. The next time she'd ask an old high school knee injury would flair up... This would probably continue until she just stopped asking.
     I know it's a ridiculous lie and it wouldn't amount to much, but still, you get the point. The funny thing is we all do it! Yes, everyone. Not necessarily out-right full-on lies, but lies of omission or bending the truth. Actually, now that I think about it Catie and I's relationship is based on a lie! It's true. I asked her if she had seen the Lord of the Rings movie that was in theater's at the time and she said no. What I heard her say was, "Ask me out to this movie because I haven't seen it and I'll probably go because I like the movie, even if I don't like you..." So I told her I wanted to see it as well, even though I already had. Turns out we had a great time and even held hands on the first date! I just hope I remember this when my kids start stretching the truth...

The Magi.

     Read "The Gift of the Magi" with my students today. Some of the punch was lost because of the old English used in the story. When I compared the girls hair to their PS3's and his watch to an XBOX 360, it made a little more sense. Each person trading their systems to buy the other person games for their system made it a little more clear. Turns out, making the moral of this story a "little more clear" doesn't make it any easier to understand. They were so taken aback by this vision of piles of video games with no system to play them on they couldn't grasp the concept that it was the sacrifice made my each person that meant so much more than the actual gift. I tried to help them see the beauty in sacrifice and how it paralleled love. Realistically, love and sacrifice are pretty inseparable. Reminds me of the Death Cab for Cutie song, Meet Me at the Equator.

The Halloween.

     Had a lot of fun during Halloween last night. It was good times, good times. There were several little girls at the party we went to and they had the best costumes! Catie and I got to talking about what we were going to let our kid wear when they were growing up. Now here is a shot of me as dressed by my mother when I was young. That should put in context what I'm about to say. I want to allow my daughter to wear whatever she wants. If that means the princess costume she wore for Halloween is going to be worn out due to constant use, that's fine by me. If the other kids at her school make fun of her, I'll have to ask her what's more important: having friends or wearing cookey clothes. I figure it'll kind of iron itself out, right? It's hard to imagine clothes being all that important, especially when she's young. But we'll see.

The Two.

     Just stumbled upon this great site called TwoOfUs.org. It's all about tips and tricks for parenting with an emphasis on relationships. I like it and their philosophy seems to meld with mine very well. Check it out and let me know what you think. Also I'm considering starting a discussion board on here. Are there any recommendations on who I should go through or if there's some good opensource stuff out there?

The Toot.

     That's right! We're having a girl. And here I thought girls were cleaner than boys... Of course, if you're going to be made of sugar and spice, there is some inevitable fermenting that will happen.

The Cold.

     I would say that when I'm sick I turn into a little girl, but that would be an insult to little girls. I'm a total wuss. Now, my pregnant wife is packing stuff, taking care of me, and walking the dog. How is it that women are so stinking tough?
     I've noticed that my wife sees me at my most disgusting, smelly, grossness. All so I can make sure I look good for people that I don't love near as much as her! She's had to request I no longer breath on her before we meet people to see how bad my breathe is. Instead, I just carry gum around with me. And I won't hesitate to flip my head back and have her check to see if there are any bears in the cave. That's the thing though, isn't it? We love each other in spite of all the grossness. It's GREAT! On the other hand, I need to make sure my wife sees me at my best...at least some of the time. She shouldn't have to sort through all my sickness to see a few good things. But if we can't be disgusting in front of the people we love, who can we be gross in front of?

The Dream.

     Down the street from where I live there's a nice family.  They have a very productive lime tree in their front yard and they freely offer the fruits to anyone walking by.  There's also a little shoe box with a slot cut in the top and a sign taped to cardboard and attached to the back of the shoe box.  It says the little girl who lives there is trying to collect money for animals in shelters.  I'm not really sure about the details, but it says she's setting up a foundation for animals.  This started about four months ago, and now, the box is just laying on its side in front of the house, all wrinkled and water damaged.  I wonder if she checks it every day to see if some passersby put cash in.  Has she just forgotten about it or is she still hopeful every time she cracks the top of that box?  Is her dream of saving every animal everywhere just dying?  It's ironic because the animals the dream was supposed to save are dying as well.  Okay, maybe not ironic, but it is sad.  I guess that little box makes me wonder about my little girls dreams.  I know they won't all come true, but that doesn't mean they all have to die; either.  Any suggestions?  Short of using a plastic shoebox...

The House.

     So, we finally found a house...we think. It's less than half the size of the place we're living in now and the beginning stages of claustrophobia are setting in just thinking about fitting all our stuff into that place. This is coming from someone who, speaking pretty humbly, is a Tetris MASTER! I can fit an Asian elephant in the back seat of Mini, but this place makes me cringe. It's not that the rooms are small as much as the lack of nooks and crannies to hold once a year things, like Christmas decorations, or in-laws. Plus, there's no garage space. Not that I'd put family in there, but it's still nice to know there are options.
     In an earlier post I was saying the important thing was just getting a house. Now I'm wondering if this is the right house. Is this the right decision, the right time? Should we forgo the money from the government and wait, or should we get while the getting's good, make it work for now, and plan on moving out in a couple of years when the market goes back up? I just want to know this is the best choice, but I don't think it's something I can ever know for sure. I woke up last night around 1 AM and started watching a Psych marathon. It as if finally getting a house has created a whole new set of solution creating opportunities. We're up for it, and I'm sure it'll be worth it, and it's not like we're signing away our lives...but it kind of feels like that.