Mr. Mom....

Actually I prefer Adam @ Home as a "stay at home dad" cultural reference, but it's less universal. I'm beginning my 3rd week on my own since my wife went back to work. I gotta tell ya, that June Cleaver is one intimidating woman. Personally, I gotta pick some priorities and let the rest fall to pieces.

Katie is pretty much sleeping through the night. This means she's pretty much awake all day. I tried really hard to not be naive and have false expectations, but I admit I thought I'd have a little more spare time. Between feeding and changing, I barely have time to clean up... which is a topic it's self. All my life I've been an unapologetic slob. And yet, now, I get really bothered by messes. Not bothered like my neat-freak wife, but bothered. So, today, she's unusually fussy and I'm not getting anything done. If this next bottle doesn't do it, she may have to cry through a quick vacuum. So, when am I supposed to do all this art I was going to work on? When she's six and goes to school?

She's (been) here!!!!

Well, it's been more than a month since my last post. Guess why. Just hours after my last post, my wife went into labor. After 12 hours, an epidural and several consults, we elected for a c-section. Thank god. Ten pounds and one ounce, 21.5 inches long. That's my girl!
Anyway, Katherine Marie. She's been my whole life for a month now. We call her Katie.
And she, and people responding to her, have renewed my faith in humanity. People have been so generous. She makes everyone smile who sees her.
I've been down deep in breasts and bottles, diapers and Desetin. It's a whirlwind experience, and it makes me so happy and so sad. 'Cause she's already growing up. How unfair is that? From the very first hour we spent together I knew she was already growing up. Which is what I want for her, right? Why then does it feel like it's going to fast already?
Anyhow, fast as it is, it's amazing. She has me wrapped around her little finger. I look forward to every day.
I figure I can get back to posting somewhat regular. And I've still a mind to do a podcast, when the time gets freed up. Too many people who love her are too far away. So, Katie is going to grow up on line. I don't know what that means yet, but I'll figure it out. But she's too wonderful, I have to share.

PAST DUE

Well, it's five days past the due date. We are way past ready for the walnut to come and hang out with us. She's just dragging her feet. She was due the 9th.

Personally the word "induce" terrifies me. But that's what they are talking about doing next Tuesday night. Somehow, messing with "the process" seems wrong to me. I know, medicine has come a long way, but how do they know that she was due the ninth? We don't know and we're the ones who made her!
Anyway, my wife is miserable and hasn't slept well any night this month. So, who am I to complain that when momma doesn't sleep, papa doesn't either. Frankly waking up every two hours will actually be more restful sleep for both of us.
What I don't want is a c-section. That is the last thing in the world that I want to happen. C'mon God, nice and easy and natural (Epidurals are natural, right? I mean, naturally I'd want one if it was me.).
I'm so ready to be the father of a baby girl! Well, maybe "ready" is the wrong word. Eager, maybe, or excited. Ready is the last thing I am. In my mind I'm still a stupid teenager who has no business being in charge of the development of another human being.
Well, she's coming whether I'm ready or not, so they say. She ain't coming yet.

As I close what's probably my last post before she's born, I just want to say thanks for all the support and encouragement you folks who read this thing have given me over the last 9 months. This is only the beginning. Both of the blog, and my journey. The best is still to come. Wish me luck.

Brian

Any day now.... (and a small book reveiw)

Well, we are well inside 2 weeks of our due date. So, I suppose any minute now it could happen. Personally, after about a wee...er, couple of weeks, this particular blog will get much more interesting.

I'm currently readingCrawling: A Father's First Year by a man with the odd name of Elisha Cooper. It seems very honest to me, a man exposing his flaws for all to see, and also how having a daughter helps him work through (or around) those flaws. The guy is a little to "New World Man" liberal for me, and doesn't appear to have any sort of a job, apart from visiting places to drink coffee and flying around the country (sure, that's jealousy talking). He also seems, to me, unusually preoccupied with sex (his, pidgeons, geese, goats... none of it seems to go unnoticed). It is, however, a rather beautiful if sometimes uncomfortable look at early fatherhood. He certainly can craft a sentence, and you get a nice look at Berkley, Ca (and Zoë) through his eyes. I'm enjoying it quite a bit, while also making note of how I don't want to raise my daughter. I think fathers, and any one who wants a look into fathers, will enjoy this easy read.

And now back to biting my nails.

Why hunt down a mobile?

Why, to match the "Starry Night" Noah's Ark themed bedding, of course.

Starry Night Mobile

In my never ending quest to spoil my wife rotten, we tracked this discontinued mobile from here to Canada, to the end of the Earth, and then to E-bay, which is were we found it. She loves it. She's happy. I'm happy. And I'm a sucker for Brahm's Lullaby, which it plays when wound.

That's enough for now,

Brian Norwood
muse.platypionline.com
brian@platypionline.com

They have classes for that?

I spent 6 hours of my last Saturday learning how to be a parent. Sort of.
I did a combo class at Kaiser Permenente of Breast feeding, Infant Care, and Delivery which included a tour of the delivery room and the semi private suite we get for a few hours.

Now, why do I need to learn about breast feeding? Well, it turns out there were lots of tips for how I can mimmic the procedure while bottle feeding to minimize the chance of confusion that the little girl will experience. I also feel much more confident after diapering and swaddling a teddy bear. Heck, now I can do anything!

And, I know my way around the maternity ward. Information I am sure to forget instantly as soon as she says something like "I think my water broke". I'll probably say something a lot like "She's having a baby! Where the hell do I go?" as soon as I enter. That's me, cool under fire. I'm thinking maybe I should call a cab rather than drive. Yeah, I'm that bad.

Anyway, next Saturday is Lamaze. Which I believe is either the French term for "Husband Torture" or Swahili for "I'm being set up". Either way, I've seen Bill Cosby: Himself, I know the score. I'll have my bottom lip pulled over my head before this is over.

That's enough for now,

Brian Norwood
muse.platypionline.com

I see'd it.... I feel'd it...

I don't know if it fits the dictionary definition of interaction, but I've had new experiences with my daughter. I've felt her move quite a bit now, and I saw the quivering tummy of my wife as The Walnut frolicked through her uterus. It's the most amazing thing I have ever experienced. My wife's belly button has all but disappeared at this point, much to my amusement. I'm not sure how I feel about posting pictures of that, so I provided the approximation above. It's eerily similar.

That's enough for now,

Brian Norwood
muse.platypionline.com

I'm don't want to share

So, I'm not done writing yet. I just changed topics. Anyway,

I'm having a tough time wanting to share all the activities involved getting a baby (My first, mind you) with my step son. I know he wants to be involved and feel like part of the family, but damnit, I've never done any of this before and almost certainly never will again. Ideally, the way it was meant to be, the parents would enjoy all the picking out of stuff, the ultra sounds, the wiggles and jiggles the first time. Then, having been through it once, it would only be natural to include the first child in the process of preparing for the second's arrival.

It's petty, and I'm ashamed of myself, but I am jealous of the fact that I have to share my wife at this time. But in the words of the powerful and wise Super Chicken, "You knew the job was dangerous when you took it, Fred". Yes, I knew what I was getting in to. We just never planned on having kids.

I'll grow up. I promise.

That's enough for now,

Brian Norwood
muse.platypionline.com

Why I must be the best Dad ever.... or try to be.

Why I must be the best Dad ever, always love my wife, keep a strong, Christ centered household, and feel free to cry when ever I feel like it. Or at least try to

Because, I see what my step son is going through. He didn't have the benefit of any of this. And I am struggling to love him, when he he is frequently difficult to love. I see his dad in him, and I don't like it. How do I not see dad?. How do I see him as a fresh, new creature on his own merits?

So, I'm not shying away from my Christendom. Not on this blog, as Christ is a big part of my parental strategy. That doesn't mean I won't listen to non-christian views, but I digress.

Anyway, my struggle, this struggle, is a Christian struggle. My model, a man who loved the very people who spit at, beat, reviled and eventually crucified him. Perfect love. So, here I am, trying to love this boy, who desperately needs love, when he frequently acts in a way that is at times, frankly, unlovable? There is a level of selflessness that Christ possessed. And I don't think his deity absolves us from striving for that. If I can attain a level where loving is more important than my own feelings, I might reach this kid yet.

Now, anyone who knows me, knows I am more than capable of being a strict disciplinarian. And this post is not advice to other parents. But this particular, emotionally underdeveloped kid, needs my love at LEAST as much as my discipline. Perhaps more so. I'm so not naturally wired that way. My the home of my youth, a child knew his place. It's only natural that I want to order my house the same way.

But this kid, he's been through a lot of crap. So much that I honestly believe that he seeks to anger me, because an angry father is what is normal and familiar to him. Now, that is NOT my natural inclination, but he has a way of getting under my skin that few people have. And he is so desperate for attention that he would rather have me yell at him than ignore him. Somedays, it would be easier to just not care. But I do. I do care, and I need to NOT be that angry dad. I just haven't figured out how. Yet. But I will, for his sake, and the sake of the one on the way.

Anyway, it feels good to vent. Thanks to the internet for that. I'll leave you with some lyrics I found particularly relevant this week:
"So I try to be like you, try to feel the way you do. But without you it's no use, I don't see what you see when I look at the world."


That's enough for now,

Brian Norwood
muse.platypionline.com