The Cat Shriek

Baby J loves to interact with the cats but the feeling is not mutual.

They have a tendency to slink away when she comes into the room. The go up high, behind a baby gate, or under a couch to get out of reach. They glare at her from the relative safety gloating in their ability to outmaneuver her. But, recently, Baby J has found that if she shrieks at the highest pitch and decibel level she can produce, the sound has a rare and amusing effect on nearby felines. Even if they are out of reach.

This cat shriek is an ear splitting, piercing sound and, by wielding it frequently, Baby J has found that there's more than one way to irritate a cat.

MMR shot

Baby J just had her Measles, Mumps, and Rubella (MMR) shots not long ago. She howled with pain and screamed at us and we tried to console her as best we could. To me, it's secretly funny how dramatic kids are about getting shots. I know their terror is real but, honestly, they go so over the top sometimes, it's almost comical.

But then I had to get another MMR shot for my graduate school and, let me tell you, it was no laughing matter. Apparently, I had forgotten this since my last MMR shot was so long ago but it is a really painful vaccination. It burns like someone has just injected hot coffee into your arm. It doesn't last long but it's pretty intense for those few moments. It's no wonder Baby J gets so worked up when the nurse puts on her rubber gloves and brings out the alcohol swabs. I wanted someone to console me, give me a stuffed animal, and feed me Cheerios one at a time. It is a crime that I did not get a sticker when it was all said and done with.

We, as adults, should try to remember what it's like for kids to go through these ordeals. We have to remember that shots really do hurt. That it really is scary to think that there are monsters under your bed that want to kill you and eat you. These are the nightmarish parts of childhood and if we laugh at how ridiculous they are or do not acknowledge the serious stress they cause kids, we run the risk of trivializing our children's feelings or making them feel that they have foolish emotions.

FIRSTS: Visit to the Dentist

We took Baby J to the pediatric dentist today for her first visit. To keep her entertained, I kept a supply of toys and stuffed animals at hand. As we cycled through the toys and Baby J's patience was wearing thin, I picked up a trial sized tube of kids' toothpaste which she quickly fell in love with. It looked like this:

These trial sized toothpaste tubes look harmless enough but don't be deceived. Those two corners at the top are razor sharp. Basically, what I did was hand my baby a shiv which she proceeded to stab me with repeatedly. She howled when I tried to take it away.

At the end of the visit, we got the shiv away from her and she occupied herself with less lethal trinkets. And I learned that going to the dentist is a unpleasant experience even when you're not the one in the chair.

Changing Station?

Today I was at the library with Baby J when I caught that familiar, foul odor of a poopie diaper. I scooped her up into my arms and made my way to the men's room. To my befuddlement, there was no changing table there. Next, I went and found the family bathroom in the children's section but there wasn't a changing table their either.

I happened to see the custodian walking by so asked him if there was a changing table somewhere in the building. He told me it was in the ladies' room. He even offered to wait outside so no one would go in.

For me, the ladies' room might as well be another dimension, a parallel universe where the rules I've always understood no longer apply. And I don't think I'm the only guy who feels this way. When men go to the bathroom, we keep eyes forward, we don't talk to anyone, and we get out as soon as possible. But in the ladies' room, as far as I can tell, it's a social experience. They go in together. They linger. They talk to each other. I've even heard reports that some ladies' rooms have decorative little sitting areas.

Like I said, another dimension.

So it was with a mix of trepidation and wonder that I entered the ladies' room at the library in search of the fabled changing table. Luckily, I had the whole place to myself which excused my from embarassing interactions with startled ladies. I tried to be quick and keep my eyes forward like I would in the men's room so I didn't get a good look around. I can tell you, at the very least, that I did not see a sitting area. And I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed by this.

Anyway, when I finally got Baby J on the table and in position, I removed her diaper to see that she was totally clean. It had all been a false alarm. A deceptive baby fart masquerading as the real deal!

So, what can we learn from today's experience? Babies sometimes have nasty farts. There is no sitting area in the ladies' room at my local library. Also, childrearing is typically associated with women and thus public buildings do not always provide changing stations in both bathrooms. It's a woman's world - I'm just changing diapers in it.

Listening To: Be a Bright Blue by Saxon Shore

Kitty Cat and Apples

Baby J's language acquisition has been picking up steam in recent weeks. Right now, she's at a point where words are used for very general categories. For example, everything with four legs and fur is a "kitty cat." Everything that is a fruit is an "apple" (with the exception of bananas - they are "bleh-blehs"). It'll probably be some time before Baby J figures out that she's not quite using her words properly but, until then, I suppose her present state of specificity is good enough.

Tax Day

Today is April 15th, the day all tax forms are due to the IRS. It is also the day the Titanic sunk but that's beside the point.

This year, my wife and I got a tax break because Baby J was born in 2009. Although I very much appreciate Uncle Sam's generosity, I can't help but wonder why such a tax credit is offered. Is the government just trying to make things easier on parents, giving them a little cushion in that first, frustrating year? Or is it an incentive to make people want to have kids? Or is it some other ploy hatched by officials at the IRS that they're keeping secret from all of us? I smell a whiff of stinking conspiracy. Or maybe Baby J just has a poopie diaper.

Either way, let us take this opportunity to thank the IRS for all their good work and to remember the people who lost their lives when the Titanic went down. My heart will go on.

Couch Potato/Hot Potato

There are all kinds of cues that tell us when Baby J is tired. For example, her head gets very hot. Also, she starts up strange, small, repetitive behaviors that involve rolling or marching around. My wife and I call this spinning.

Anyway, now there's a new way for us to know, Baby J is ready for bed. Now, she gets up on the couch and "spins" until her hair is sweaty and matted to her head. I'm not sure why she wants to do this on the couch but it seems to be her new thing.

I guess we all need a way to relax before bed.

Belly

Baby J has an insatiable appetite. The doctor told us to feed as much as we had and that eventually she'd get tired of eating and stop. But she never stops. She would eat all night and all day if we let her. The only way we know to stop feeding Baby J is when her belly is round and distended to the point of being obscene. It worries my wife and, I have to admit, I'm a bit perplexed by the freakishly large capacity of her baby belly. But, she seems happy so I guess we're happy. And now I truly understand the concept of "another mouth to feed."

Feed me!

Politics of Parenting

I'm going to make a couple bold, sweeping statements.

Conservatives draw political identity from the past, the way things were. They urge caution when trying new things.

Liberals draw their political identity from the future, how things will be. They are more open to new ideas than their counterparts.

I'm super generalizing here but it's a pretty good place to start today's post.

Baby J is always running around, trying to eat things and touch electrical outlets. She wants to push things off the table and take the batteries out of the remote control. In essence, Baby J is always interested in trying something new and finding interesting ways to use things. I spend a better part of my day running around trying to take things out of her mouth, keeping her fingers away from wall sockets, picking things up off the floor, and putting the batteries back in the remote control. In essence, I put everything back the way it was and push Baby J to use things safely.

It's not hard to see where I'm going with this. Children are liberal in their inclinations. Parents are conservatives. It is the interplay between these two ideologies that shape family dynamics. Of course, both are necessary for kids to flourish but we should all remember that children will grow up to live in the future, not our past.

Diva Dad

I'd like to take a break from the reflective, contemplative tone these posts generally take on to indulge in a bit of whining. It's not something I like to do but I've had some stuff clouding up the dad parts of my brain for a while and I feel the need to purge. So here goes.

I've given up on trying to explain to people what it's like to be a stay-at-home dad. I just let people assume that I'm idle or free from responsibilities. It's easier than trying to argue that I accomplish a lot on a daily basis or that my day is actually pretty exhausting. I think folks just don't get it because there aren't too many stay-at-home dads out there. People have their misconceptions about what it's like and they stick to those.

Stay-at-home moms have a pretty good handle on what it's like but I don't think they quite get it either. I think being a stay-at-home dad can be even more isolating than being a stay-at-home mom. There's no dad's club for me to join. There's very little in the way of a support network out there. I don't really have much to say to other moms when I meet them. It's like we're operating on two totally different wavelengths.

Furthermore, and forgive me if I'm going into the range of TMI, there's all kinds of weird stuff that happens to the male ego once a man assumes the role of stay-at-home dad. It's not a sexy, glamorous, or widely respected role in our society. At best, it's probably considered superfluous. That's a terrible way for anyone to feel. But I think it can be especially difficult for a guy to feel.

There is no parity between moms and dads. There's an annual moms' night out at the mall. There's a bajillion mom exercise and social clubs in the area. There's even a universally accepted term for hot moms. By contrast, there is no dads' night out. Dads don't socialize. And I'm pretty sure there's no such thing as a DILF.

Okay, that's enough whoa-is-me/nobody-understands-me stuff. I think I feel a little lighter now. I've unburdened my soul and feel ready to begin my daddy duties anew. Tomorrow I will try to post upbeat and uplifting vignettes.

Diva Dad, signing off.