July 31, 2006

Day 1

Lori’s first day back at work was, fortunately, an at-home office day. Even though I was responsible for the kids, it was somehow comforting to know that she was still in the house, in case of a major daddy- or baby-emergency.

I flew to Connecticut yesterday to pick up Chani for her monthly visit with us. It always makes me happy when she’s here. I’m a little nervous, though, about having my newborn son, Ty, who needs me, and my 12-year-old daughter who wants me under my direct supervision at the same time. Somehow I’m hoping that Chani might think it’s cool to help daddy, while I’m still in the semi-idiot stage of taking care of a baby. She has another little brother who is almost a year old, so I’m optimistic about learning some things from her this week.

Ty still isn’t sleeping through the night, so Lori and I decided on the following feeding schedule now that she is back at work: I take the 1:00 a.m.; she takes the 4:00 a.m. and 7:30 a.m.; and then, I get up at 8:00 a.m. and take him for the rest of the day. Everything went as planned last night, and I took Ty at 8:30 a.m. this morning. He and Lori were both crying when I went downstairs to get him.

It’s been six days since Ty pooped, so Lori asked me to try and “work it out” of him today. What does that mean? Throughout my professional career, I’ve prided myself on being a subject-matter expert. Today, I feel like such a novice. After pacing the floors with Ty for an hour or so, and trying to “work things out,” I decided to do what every clueless Dad does…take the kids on a road trip!

First, we went to Target and bought Chani some new shoes and a bathing suit. Every time she comes down to stay with us, she forgets at least one important or necessary clothing item; or, worse yet, she forgets her iPod or Gameboy. Next, we went to Chic-Fil-A for lunch, which she loves because there isn’t one near her in Connecticut (and, she says, they have “the best chicken nuggets on the planet”). Ty was asleep when we walked in, and I was looking forward to a peaceful lunch. All that changed when I banged his car seat into the door and jolted him awake. Peace was no longer on the menu.

*Mental Note – Home Depot is not a fun place for a 12-year-old or a baby…or a Daddy with a 12-year-old and a baby with him. The excitement of a road trip was deteriorating fast, so I decided to head back home for, I hoped, a momentary relief from Lori.

Ty started crying in the car, and unfortunately, Chani was not the baby whisperer that I had hoped she would be. I was going to stop for gas, but after twenty minutes of him wailing I decided to go straight home. The situation reminded me of a not-so-funny thing that happened on the day that Ty was born. Lori’s water broke at a restaurant in Pennsylvania. We were on our way back to the house to get her hospital bag, and I thought it would be a good idea to stop for gas before we got to the hospital, just in case we couldn’t make it the 15 miles on half a tank. The fire in Lori’s eyes made me want to cry like a baby. It was not one of my best ideas.

When we got home, Chani bolted to her room. I got a bottle and sat down on the couch to feed Ty. He scratched, clawed and wriggled violently while sucking down and spitting out the milk, and I wasn’t quite sure what to make of the whole situation. He has become more-and-more of an aggressive eater over the past few weeks, although it is clear through his chubby legs that he is getting plenty. Suddenly, he became still for a few seconds…and then…he ripped a big, wet fart. I remembered Lori saying something about “working it out,” so I encouraged him to keep pushing.

I put him on the changing table and spent the next twenty minutes pumping his legs and saying things like, “Is it poopy day? Are you going to poop today? Poo Poo out…Poo Poo out…work it out…Poo Poo out.” Unfortunately, it was a false alarm. I put a new diaper on him, and then, I noticed Chani watching me from the steps. “Whatcha ya doin’, dad?” she asked with a big smirk on her face. “I have no idea,” I said, which summed up nicely what I knew about taking care of a baby to this point in my life.

When Chani was a baby, I was in college and worked full-time, so I didn’t get much exposure to the daily routine of her activities or needs. I don’t remember changing many diapers, definitely not “working it out,” or similar things that would have helped me now; rather, it seemed like my primary duties with her were playing with toys, showering her with kisses and watching Disney movies.

Chani wanted to go swimming in the afternoon, and I had no idea what Ty wanted so it sounded like a good idea even though it’s the middle of summer and the hottest week yet. I put Ty in the Snuggly, and then we went over to our neighbors’ pool. I’m not sure if it was the heat outside or the heat from me, but Ty fell asleep within minutes. By the time he woke up, he and I were both saturated with sweat. Sitting outside on a hot summer day might not have been the best idea, but, at least, Chani seemed to be having fun.

After Chani finished swimming, it was nearly 5:30 p.m. Lori was wrapping up her day, and her breasts were “about to explode.” Chani went up to her room to change clothes and play with her Gameboy, and I happily handed Ty to Lori, who immediately and instinctively latched onto her. I headed out the door to a committee meeting for the local chamber of commerce, admittedly, with a slight sense of relief. I was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted, and this was only my first day being fully responsible for him! What I used to call a “work day” was so much easier than babysitting two kids for ten hours.

Lori told me a few months ago, though, that it’s not called “babysitting” when you’re watching your own kids. I think I’m in for more work than I ever imagined.

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