Saturday, January 21, 2012

Self-Awareness and Screaming

Its official.

We have given birth to a Pterodactyl.

Manya has found her voice and now she loves to scream. Full bellied, boisterous, and piercing. It has to be the distant cousin of the Pterodactyl screech.

The events unfold as such: Every forty-five minutes or so baby Manni gets super excited about something - her parents, a flash on the TV, maybe the ceiling. Her legs flail about and quickly find a rhythm equating to a disjointed and quite gawky backwards scooch, that often results in an improvised bridge formation using only her feet and head. In between each pump of adrenaline there are quick bursts of laughter and squeals building both in length and decibel. With each successful bridge formation, the Pterodactyl screech rings out with the ferocity and determination of Courtney Love at an open bar. Immediately following each session of fun and good times, I duck into the bathroom to make sure blood isn't dripping from each ear.

I attempted to catch one of these bouts of ecstasy but once the camera/phone pops out the baby's curiosity destroys any chance of video proof. Yes, apparently she has a 6th sense and/or eyes in the back of her head.

In other news January 15th was the day Manya became self aware. Like Hal and Skynet before her, Manya in her own way has the ability to comprehend what is going on around her. On January 15th Manya was scheduled for a Well Visit with her Pediatrician. A week and a half earlier we had visited with the good doctor so I could be told, yes, that is snot, no its not in her chest, yes babies get sick and you just have to wait it out. There was a lot more to it but in the end it was a cold nothing more. Better safe the sorry was the conclusion by all parties. Manya was not feeling well, but when the doctor entered the room she was happy to see him, greeting him with smiles and boogers. This was before she became self aware.

On January 15th Manya was scheduled for her next sequence of booster vaccines. One oral and one in horrible needle form. When administering pain to an infant, the nurse cleans and punctures the bottom half of said baby while the evil parent (me) maintains eye contact and builds a wall of comfort and subterfuge for the cute child which is quickly destroyed in a rush of pain, agony and deceit. The crying child is then passed to the loving parent (not me) for melkys and bonding time. Tears dissipate quickly.

I often wondered to myself when Manya would make the correlation between the nurse, the office, my betrayal, and the agonizing pain of what, to her, must be a four foot spiked blade of venom. Peoples dogs show terror and recognize the vet on the car ride over and they are in no way as smart as a human, I've watched Golden Retrievers eat their own poo.

5 months.

The answer is 5 months.

After 5 months it's no longer a white lie. It's simply daddy being an asshole and colluding with that bitch nurse.

She may be right, but the nurse is nice.

We entered Infant Room 4 and Manya's eye brow furrowed. I assumed she pooped so we placed her down on the table for a diaper change. Double whammy. Tears, red face, panic and horror. Plus, a fully loaded diaper. Where's the diaper bag? [Cut to: Kitchen Counter where fully loaded diaper bag sits] Oh Shit! We quickly scoop up a naked (and cleaned but diaperless) baby from the exam table. Tears immediately stop.

This is a naked happy baby:

Enter nurse. Eyebrows furrow into a "V". Evil eye is shot at me. I put on the happy face of deception and scoop up a relatively calm but wary little puddle of cuteness (now squeezed into a newborn diaper which was the only size the office could find). Using a variety of devilish tricks I gently place Manya back on the exam table and assume the position of 'deceptive comforting'. After a brief moment of shock and a rather crafty squirm which enabled Manya to catch a fleeting glimpse of the nurse I observed the recognition of the events that were about to unfold in my child's eyes. There was no fear, just despondency and pure unadulterated anger. The nurse caught my eye. "She knows" the nurse whispered. It was like a horror movie.

Baby Manni blamed me.

For the rest of the night Manya screamed if I tried to pick her up. Sarah attempted to console me saying Manya was just focused on Melkys and bonding but I know that at five months she was being resentful and vindictive. And that's fine, it's my job and someones got to do it. But be sure that next month I'm going to be wearing a soothing Mitt Romney mask during 'deceptively comforting' time.

What kind of toys are those?

Putting in Work!

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

2012 peoples!

Books have been written of the love between a father and daughter. The tiny fingers, the pitter-patter of her rapidly beating heart, her baby soft silken hair and innocent full eyes. One morning I sat reclined across the couch in our living room. The sun had risen and the heater was pumping. There was the faint abhorrent odor of burnt oil in the air but my focus was on the bouncy baby giggling on my stomach. Her gleeful eyes glistened in morning glow, full of eagerness and delight. We were locked in on one another, her gaze searching her daddy's spirit.

She took me in without so much as a blink.

Looked deep into my soul.

And then proceeded to shit her brains out.

Happy New Year.

2012 huh?

So there's a couple thousand morons out there who believe that's the last time we'll see Lady Gaga and Mayor Bloomberg holding hands again? Maybe that was a bad example. Last time we'll see Dick Clark's animated corpse making out with some 400 year old Avon lady? Jeezus that was quite a "Rockin' New Years" festivities wasn't it? Why do they give Ryan Seacrest two hours to tell us what time it is?

Lets hear it for the Mayans! I wonder how many people will go to Vegas and bet the world will end only to be disappointed when they can't collect on their bet...

My New Years resolution is to post more. I don't know when I'll have time with the baby but I'll procrastinate less. At least I hope I will.

On New Years Day I realized that the past five months the main odor I've inhaled other than the amazing scent of newborn baby is the peculiar scent of baby poop. People think poop smells but newborn baby poop before you add food is a sweet scent. Almost pleasant. It also tends to linger in the nostrils. The unfortunate side effect of the repetition of inhaling sweet smelling baby poop is I catch hints of it in foods almost every day. This is a double edged sword of epic proportions. Now, half the time I smell lunch or dinner I am revolted at the scent memory of mustardy baby poo. Likewise, 80% of the time I change I diaper I become insatiably hungry. I assume the only solution is to eat while changing diapers?

Our dog and the baby have a nice relationship. She sits there or rolls around and he acts protective. They hang out together. He licks her cranium and she tries to touch is face inevitably bitch smacking him in the jaw. If I'm eating he'll box her out so he can get first dibs on any accidental droppings. They also take cues from each other in order to perfectly time their respective temper tantrums and make my day as difficult as possible. I assume all animals that are unable to speak communicate non-verbally. This includes cats, dogs, hamsters, squirrels, babies, marmots, reptiles and all species of fish (although everyone ignores fish after watching them for six seconds).

Today Manya had a cough. I'll delve into the helplessness parents feel when caring for a sick child in a future blog post but for the time being lets focus on the dichotomy of the dog and infant in my home. I was on high alert with Manni feeling ill. She coughed, I comforted, she cooed, I caressed. The dog watched and when I left to go to the kitchen to get a bottle he and Manya conspired. When I returned to my coughing baby I found that Cojack was limping around the living room. FYI, six years ago Cojack jumped through a window and cut his leg open, the leg as almost removed but if you met him you'd never know. Today that leg was the source of great agony. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't find any issue with the leg or paw, the tendons seemed in fine order. I decided to quell his suffering momentarily with a treat and give myself time to access the situation.

6 seconds later - coughing subsides - limp miraculously healed. Both little jerks are smiling.

Cojack has mastered the art of the alter ego - Beggar McGreedy.

Grown Man (me) = asshole.

Sleep deprivation is a common side effect to child birth. Not just for the mother but for any and all organisms living under the roof of a newborn. It can get loud in here real quick at any time of day and night. The occasional infant sleep regression causes turmoil for both parents and canines. I'm quite sure our beta fish is happy she's in the dinning room. Sleep deprivation has been used as a form of torture but more often than not sleep deprivation results in an impairment of ability, memory and motor function.

Mornings are best as we are already awake and functioning on the beginning of a day with limited rest. As the day drags on, the lapses begin. By the end of the day your mind turns to dhsaldjwhdawudasmcd. Its fun. I liken it to having the flu but without most of the body sickness. You ever tried to think with the flu or a heavy fever? Yea, your mind is running at such peak levels you find yourself maximizing your intellect with such quality programming as The Price Is Right or the riveting political commentary of Starr Jones. Point being, you don't make the best decisions.

Our baby has been strictly breast fed. From the mother during the mornings and evenings of week days and bottle fed from pumped milk during work hours. The pumping process is very technical and with all infant mechanisms, must be cleaned diligently. The best way to sterilize most instruments is by boiling them in water. We have successfully done this with pacifiers, pumping pieces, bottle tops, nipples, caps and dried pasta. What we also recently learned is - don't boil plastic parts after 10:00PM.

People say nothing good can come with chasing the night. Don't feed Gizmo after midnight. Don't put pumping instruments in boiling water after 10:30PM and leave the room. This will happen:

Kinda looks like modern art right?

Hope she doesn't see that Octopus creeping up on her

Too late.

And we're having fun again!