Hey Archer,
You may or not have been awake when I kissed your forehead and whispered that I loved you this morning. It's back to the future today as I begin traveling again. And even though it won't be heavy travel until the new year it's still the first week that I'm going to have to leave you for what, in the future, could be days at a time. I figured it may be helpful to give you some tips now that you're the man of the house until I get back.
1) Your mom loves to snuggle. Normally I provide a good portion of these. Snuggle liberally in my absence.
2) Kaya likes to pretend you didn't feed her. She will sit down quietly in front of her bowl twenty minutes after eating and give you her saddest "I sure could use a meal" face. Don't be fooled, it's a trick.
3) Your mom loads the dishwasher all sorts of wrong. Thing is, she believes she's the dish loading master. Don't fight her on it, she'll just get mad. Flip them around when she isn't looking and run it.
4) You're going to have to shoulder the Mellow Yellow load while I'm gone. It's one tall boy a day and you should leave the empty in new and exciting places each day. Mom looks like she's angry about it but deep down she knows this is our thing.
5) Let me know if she brings any guys over that aren't Uncle Rattlesnake or Uncle Emu (code names) and tells you they're an uncle or cousin. Excluding Papa Petey and Pop Pop feel free to pummel the privates of any male that comes over while I'm away.
6) Be patient, calming, and a voice of reason whenever possible.
7) Lock doors and turn off lights. Mom forgets sometimes and she's got a lot of mommying to focus on right now.
That's all I can think of right now and my plane is about to take off. I'll see you soon. I love you very much.
Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Some advice:
Never cry. Or rather, go ahead and cry but blame it on a rogue dust storm and nobody will be the wiser. Works every time.
~ Your Dad
Monday, December 19, 2016
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Reports From The Frontline
Hey Archer,
But back to Howitzer Butt...
You gave us the warning shot and now we know. Your butt can't be trusted. There seems to be only three settings to your butt.
While I still don't feel like a grizzled veteran of this parenting thing I'm going to chalk this one up as an early victory. I feel like I'm almost there.
That's all for now, buddy. But before I go, a word of advice...
Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will. No Doubt, on the other hand, has hardly ever killed anything. Supposedly just a couple roadies.
~ Your Dad
It's been two weeks already. Can you believe it? It's crazy. Things seem to be going smoothly but I have nothing to base this claim on. These two weeks have been both my introduction to and my entire experience with having a baby. Everyone you speak with has their two cents to give. Even those who understand you have to find out what works best for you will follow that sentiment up with some advice. It's cool though, I appreciate advice and am happy to take bits and pieces of those ideas with me as I raise you.
But nobody tells you about Howitzer Butt.
Oh, they'll tell you that you're going to get peed on or that you'll get poop on you. That you'll become oddly cool with it. That it's different when it's your baby. Won't mind it at all. But that's all they tell you. Perhaps they want you to enjoy the same surprise they experienced the first time a poop mortar was randomly fired out of your baby's butt.
It wasn't always like this. You know, going all the way back a couple weeks to the hospital. There you liked to turn the faucet back on while you were getting a change. Faucet number two, that is. Sure, you peed during changing as well, but I was surprised by the ease with which you turned faucet #2 back on. It gave me a fast lesson in diaper change management. I already knew to block the wang (medical term) with something in case you pee, but this was new and important information.
Especially when, days after we got you home, it wasn't a faucet turning back on unexpectedly but a poop shot across the bows of your changing table while mama had you mid-change. The look on her face was priceless. I was walking in to bring wipes or something, maybe just to check in on the process when it happened and her response, involuntarily, was basically this...
But nobody tells you about Howitzer Butt.
Oh, they'll tell you that you're going to get peed on or that you'll get poop on you. That you'll become oddly cool with it. That it's different when it's your baby. Won't mind it at all. But that's all they tell you. Perhaps they want you to enjoy the same surprise they experienced the first time a poop mortar was randomly fired out of your baby's butt.
It wasn't always like this. You know, going all the way back a couple weeks to the hospital. There you liked to turn the faucet back on while you were getting a change. Faucet number two, that is. Sure, you peed during changing as well, but I was surprised by the ease with which you turned faucet #2 back on. It gave me a fast lesson in diaper change management. I already knew to block the wang (medical term) with something in case you pee, but this was new and important information.
Especially when, days after we got you home, it wasn't a faucet turning back on unexpectedly but a poop shot across the bows of your changing table while mama had you mid-change. The look on her face was priceless. I was walking in to bring wipes or something, maybe just to check in on the process when it happened and her response, involuntarily, was basically this...
That's from a hilarious Spiderman knockoff that I urge you to watch right now.
But back to Howitzer Butt...
You gave us the warning shot and now we know. Your butt can't be trusted. There seems to be only three settings to your butt.
- Howitzer Poops
- 50 cal Farts
- R&R
While I still don't feel like a grizzled veteran of this parenting thing I'm going to chalk this one up as an early victory. I feel like I'm almost there.
That's all for now, buddy. But before I go, a word of advice...
Doubt kills more dreams than failure ever will. No Doubt, on the other hand, has hardly ever killed anything. Supposedly just a couple roadies.
~ Your Dad
Monday, December 12, 2016
"Natural Induction" Strategies
Hey Archer
With your hospital induced labor a mere week away your mama was quite worried about needing drugs to induce your arrival. I don't blame her. While I'm the first in line to defend pharmaceutical companies or doctors when people blame them for every societal problem even remotely related to medicine, I also understand and appreciate that things can and probably should occur naturally sometimes.
Enter the Poor Man's Guide to Inducing Labor Naturally.
Step 1: Do your internet and anecdotal-based research.
Does the website naturalmoms4change.org tell you that eating pineapple will absolutely induce labor? Take notes, buy pineapple, prepare for a baby.
Have you any friends who swear that they gave birth eleven seconds after eating a chalupa left-handed? Well then, put down that coffee (Coffee's for closers!) and get thee to a taco bell ASAP! Buy a chalupa, free your left hand for the chalupa, aim your crotch somewhere a baby could safely land, eat said chalupa, kiss your brand new baby.
(Pro Tip: Always carry scissors late in pregnancy in case you find yourself in need of cutting the cord at a Taco Bell. Double Pro Tip: Never run with those scissors)
Step 2: Agree with your wife
She probably has many reasons for wanting that baby out of her stomach-house (medical term) and if she decides that the way to induce her labor is by letting her slap you across the face with bologna then smile and make your first midnight bologna run since college. If you've made late night bologna runs since college I'd like to introduce you to Sally Struthers. Do you want to make more money? Sure, we all do. Now go do it and step your game up to some capicola today!
Step 3: Credit whatever happened the moment before birth as what induced labor
Did you burp real loud before your water broke? THAT MUST HAVE BEEN IT!!!
Step 4: Tell everyone that it's the only thing that worked
Be an insufferable know-it-all about the only tried and true technique to induce labor.
~
Speaking of natural induction methods, here are a few things we tried. Spoiler Alert: None of them worked...
Before I go, a little advice...
Life is 10% what happens to us and 90% how we react, 23% hard to shoulder bullshit, 3% pleasant surprises, 79% work, 31% delicious meats and cheeses, 17% alcohol, and, if you're doing it right, it'll all add up to be 100% amazing.
~ Your Dad
With your hospital induced labor a mere week away your mama was quite worried about needing drugs to induce your arrival. I don't blame her. While I'm the first in line to defend pharmaceutical companies or doctors when people blame them for every societal problem even remotely related to medicine, I also understand and appreciate that things can and probably should occur naturally sometimes.
Enter the Poor Man's Guide to Inducing Labor Naturally.
Step 1: Do your internet and anecdotal-based research.
Does the website naturalmoms4change.org tell you that eating pineapple will absolutely induce labor? Take notes, buy pineapple, prepare for a baby.
Have you any friends who swear that they gave birth eleven seconds after eating a chalupa left-handed? Well then, put down that coffee (Coffee's for closers!) and get thee to a taco bell ASAP! Buy a chalupa, free your left hand for the chalupa, aim your crotch somewhere a baby could safely land, eat said chalupa, kiss your brand new baby.
(Pro Tip: Always carry scissors late in pregnancy in case you find yourself in need of cutting the cord at a Taco Bell. Double Pro Tip: Never run with those scissors)
Step 2: Agree with your wife
She probably has many reasons for wanting that baby out of her stomach-house (medical term) and if she decides that the way to induce her labor is by letting her slap you across the face with bologna then smile and make your first midnight bologna run since college. If you've made late night bologna runs since college I'd like to introduce you to Sally Struthers. Do you want to make more money? Sure, we all do. Now go do it and step your game up to some capicola today!
Did you burp real loud before your water broke? THAT MUST HAVE BEEN IT!!!
Step 4: Tell everyone that it's the only thing that worked
Be an insufferable know-it-all about the only tried and true technique to induce labor.
~
Speaking of natural induction methods, here are a few things we tried. Spoiler Alert: None of them worked...
- Pineapple - We ate the shit out of some pineapple. We chose Costa Rican pineapple because it's delicious and because we traveled there recently and now fancy ourselves pineapple experts. Didn't work but was delicious
- Spicy Food - We ate Mexican food, I added hot sauce and hot paprika to things, and any time I had a chance to bring the heat I did it. Also delicious, and also didn't work. But speaking of bringing the heat...
- Lots of Sex - Turns out that having sex is a great way to induce labor. The theory is, and this is an honest to god thing, you need to have it at least three times because the cervix requires that much sperm. I have no idea how this was "proven" but if you're looking for a job and the ability to afford capicola perhaps you should look into sperm research!
- Raspberry Tea - This one is dumb. Didn't work.
- Acupuncture/Chiropractor/Pressure Points - Are you looking for the most expensive way to not induce labor? Then may I introduce you to constant acupuncture and chiropractor appointments. The hip bone's connected to the, knee bone. The knee bone's connected to the, elbone (medical term). The elbone's connected to the, wallet...
Before I go, a little advice...
Life is 10% what happens to us and 90% how we react, 23% hard to shoulder bullshit, 3% pleasant surprises, 79% work, 31% delicious meats and cheeses, 17% alcohol, and, if you're doing it right, it'll all add up to be 100% amazing.
~ Your Dad
Sunday, December 11, 2016
All the feelings
Sweet nugget, you have been here for ten days now. I knew I would love you, but I just wasn't prepared for all of the feelings. I am all at once smitten and proud and protective and oh my god, look at those toes! You are easily the most perfect thing I've ever witnessed. Your journey into this side of my belly was no less dramatic than your journey into the womb.
I had a lovely birth plan, a doula, and every confidence that I could and would do this birth thing as naturally as possible. My original plan was to have you at the birth center. Midwives, a big tub to labor in, essential oils diffusing, calming music playing, no drugs. You know, just like I was supposed to get pregnant immediately after your daddy and I got married and usher you into the world 9 months later. Right. I have no idea why I didn't accept from day one that I had zero control over this story.
Lesson in non-attachment: check.
The birthing center wasn't an option. Mama is more mature than your average first time mom. Whatever. Mama is old. I'm 41 (soon to be 42) and this number freaks insurance people out. So, plan B! Are you amused at my plan making yet? So so funny. The partner OB/GYN office for the birthing center was recommended to me, and I thought this would be a good alternative. Surely, they would be on board for all my hippy dippy visions of my birth experience. I went and met my doctor very early in my pregnancy and she was lovely. On board, indeed.
As we approached your due date, sweet doctor suggested we have an induction date, just in case. At my age (so very old), complications are much greater with each passing week, so getting you out by your due date was her goal. Mine was to naturally induce labor before that induction date. I'll spare you the details on that. We know how my track record is with the plans.
(Dad Interruption: See this post for my in-depth analysis of natural induction techniques)
We check into the hospital the evening of the induction date, and buckle in for the ride to come. They're going to apply some medicine to my very stubborn cervix, which hasn't dilated really at all, and that should get things rolling. It does actually cause contractions to start, but after many hours, we discover that it's done actually nothing in the way of labor progression. Step 2: manually dilate the cervix. Again, I will spare you the details. You can google it when you're older, or whatever the equivalent thing will be in your crazy technological future. The basic gist is: ouch ouch ouch! and fine, it worked, somewhat. 3cm dilated and serious contractions and now sweet doctor breaks my water. Which, by the way, is an obscene amount of fluid. Seriously, did you order the Olympic sized swimming womb?
Really serious for real contractions at this point! Sweet doctor is now way done with her 24 hour shift at the hospital. Now her partners will be finishing this job. Strangers (though very kind and clearly capable ones) have entered my very much adjusted birth plan. This is a trend one must become very comfortable with, by the way. The amount of strangers who would ultimately see my ladythangs hit record numbers in just a few short days.
After some serious labor that had me doubting my ability to do this without many drugs, hubby calls the doula in. She was bathed in light and goodness when she entered. I don't know what I'd have done without her. She really did calm me, get me into positions to labor in that helped tremendously, helped me breathe, and made me believe again, that yes, I could indeed do this without pain meds. After a couple of hours, the very nice partner doctor entered the room to see how things were progressing. I HAD to be really dilated by now. Contractions were strong and very close together and if this were a movie, we'd be long into the pushing phase by now.
Instead of announcing that we were ready for pushing, he said something to the nurse I didn't quite get, then calmly but firmly, told me that things would move very quickly now. The cord was in a position of prolapse, which basically means that it was between your sweet head and my stubborn cervix. So, every time I had a contraction, the cord was being pushed toward the opening cervix and squished by your head. It's a good thing that cervix was so stubborn, because it still wasn't open enough to let cord through, which would have been a serious scary emergency. As it was, we had only a mildly scary emergency.
New plan (non-negotiable, I had no say in it): emergency c-section. The bad news? This was not the birth experience I ordered. The good news? All I could really think about was making sure you were ok and getting you into my arms as quickly as possible. I didn't care at all about the plan anymore.
You were staring into my eyes just minutes later. Perfect and alert and loudly announcing your presence into the world. You needed a little help getting your lungs clear, but you're a strong little man and you were brought to me while I was still in recovery, your lungs pumping like a champ and so very hungry. You've been so hungry since, and you are growing and changing already, every single day.
As you lie in your bassinet next to me, I can't help but be overwhelmed with the love I feel for you. I'm so grateful that you're mine. I could not dictate your story, though I sure did try. As you grow and become the man you will be, I'm sure I will fight that same struggle of wanting more of a say in your narrative, more influence in the decisions you make. I will do my best to remember that you have your own story to tell. I will teach you all that I can and try to help you to make good decisions, but in the end, you will be the author of your own life. I'm so excited to watch it unfold. Welcome to the world, Archer. You are so loved.
Love, Mama
I had a lovely birth plan, a doula, and every confidence that I could and would do this birth thing as naturally as possible. My original plan was to have you at the birth center. Midwives, a big tub to labor in, essential oils diffusing, calming music playing, no drugs. You know, just like I was supposed to get pregnant immediately after your daddy and I got married and usher you into the world 9 months later. Right. I have no idea why I didn't accept from day one that I had zero control over this story.
Lesson in non-attachment: check.
The birthing center wasn't an option. Mama is more mature than your average first time mom. Whatever. Mama is old. I'm 41 (soon to be 42) and this number freaks insurance people out. So, plan B! Are you amused at my plan making yet? So so funny. The partner OB/GYN office for the birthing center was recommended to me, and I thought this would be a good alternative. Surely, they would be on board for all my hippy dippy visions of my birth experience. I went and met my doctor very early in my pregnancy and she was lovely. On board, indeed.
As we approached your due date, sweet doctor suggested we have an induction date, just in case. At my age (so very old), complications are much greater with each passing week, so getting you out by your due date was her goal. Mine was to naturally induce labor before that induction date. I'll spare you the details on that. We know how my track record is with the plans.
(Dad Interruption: See this post for my in-depth analysis of natural induction techniques)
We check into the hospital the evening of the induction date, and buckle in for the ride to come. They're going to apply some medicine to my very stubborn cervix, which hasn't dilated really at all, and that should get things rolling. It does actually cause contractions to start, but after many hours, we discover that it's done actually nothing in the way of labor progression. Step 2: manually dilate the cervix. Again, I will spare you the details. You can google it when you're older, or whatever the equivalent thing will be in your crazy technological future. The basic gist is: ouch ouch ouch! and fine, it worked, somewhat. 3cm dilated and serious contractions and now sweet doctor breaks my water. Which, by the way, is an obscene amount of fluid. Seriously, did you order the Olympic sized swimming womb?
Really serious for real contractions at this point! Sweet doctor is now way done with her 24 hour shift at the hospital. Now her partners will be finishing this job. Strangers (though very kind and clearly capable ones) have entered my very much adjusted birth plan. This is a trend one must become very comfortable with, by the way. The amount of strangers who would ultimately see my ladythangs hit record numbers in just a few short days.
After some serious labor that had me doubting my ability to do this without many drugs, hubby calls the doula in. She was bathed in light and goodness when she entered. I don't know what I'd have done without her. She really did calm me, get me into positions to labor in that helped tremendously, helped me breathe, and made me believe again, that yes, I could indeed do this without pain meds. After a couple of hours, the very nice partner doctor entered the room to see how things were progressing. I HAD to be really dilated by now. Contractions were strong and very close together and if this were a movie, we'd be long into the pushing phase by now.
Instead of announcing that we were ready for pushing, he said something to the nurse I didn't quite get, then calmly but firmly, told me that things would move very quickly now. The cord was in a position of prolapse, which basically means that it was between your sweet head and my stubborn cervix. So, every time I had a contraction, the cord was being pushed toward the opening cervix and squished by your head. It's a good thing that cervix was so stubborn, because it still wasn't open enough to let cord through, which would have been a serious scary emergency. As it was, we had only a mildly scary emergency.
New plan (non-negotiable, I had no say in it): emergency c-section. The bad news? This was not the birth experience I ordered. The good news? All I could really think about was making sure you were ok and getting you into my arms as quickly as possible. I didn't care at all about the plan anymore.
You were staring into my eyes just minutes later. Perfect and alert and loudly announcing your presence into the world. You needed a little help getting your lungs clear, but you're a strong little man and you were brought to me while I was still in recovery, your lungs pumping like a champ and so very hungry. You've been so hungry since, and you are growing and changing already, every single day.
As you lie in your bassinet next to me, I can't help but be overwhelmed with the love I feel for you. I'm so grateful that you're mine. I could not dictate your story, though I sure did try. As you grow and become the man you will be, I'm sure I will fight that same struggle of wanting more of a say in your narrative, more influence in the decisions you make. I will do my best to remember that you have your own story to tell. I will teach you all that I can and try to help you to make good decisions, but in the end, you will be the author of your own life. I'm so excited to watch it unfold. Welcome to the world, Archer. You are so loved.
Love, Mama
Thursday, December 1, 2016
YESSSSSSS!!!!
TWO. NOSTRILS.
Welcome to the world, Archer. Posts to follow once the whirlwind dies down.
Welcome to the world, Archer. Posts to follow once the whirlwind dies down.
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