Wonder weeks are this well hidden secret for those who are trying to have kids or are expecting. They’re these days/weeks where your child goes through developmental milestones. A new part of their brain opens up and they become super fussy and clingy. It’s like being sober around a bunch of drunken assholes who won’t listen and can’t communicate with you. She’s not developed enough to tell you what’s wrong, but she’s aware enough to know when you put her down. Be prepared to get NOTHING done if you’re doing this whole parenting thing on your own. You can’t put her down, you can’t leave her alone and she’s constantly hungry. The best part about these wonder weeks as that they get easier as they go, until it doesn’t. Supposedly, around month four, your baby becomes a huge asshole. She’s angry, won’t put up with the same bullshit you’ve been putting her through for the first four months of your life and there’s nothing you can do about it. To add insult to injury, she starts to wake up in the middle of the night, like she did back when she was a younger lassie. Everything you’ve come to know, all the routines you’ve put in place get shattered because of these damn things. Godspeed.
Size absolutely matters. I’ll be honest, when it came to buying baby gear, I left it all up to price. I made the assumption that price meant higher quality. It’s actually possible that the Jujube bag we originally bought was well made, but the problem is that it held so little that I was riddled with anxiety any time we had to leave the house for more than an hour. For those of you who don’t know what a clutch is, it’s probably the biggest waste of money known to man kind. It’s sole purpose is to be held during pictures. It provides no functional qualities one would expect from a container…and to call it a container is being more than generous. Anyways, the quality of the Jujube felt good, but it was small. We ended up going to one of those bargain stores and found one from columbia. Now this…this was a diaper bag. It’s so big it makes you feel like you can take your baby backcountry camping for weeks and still have enough room for a 0 gravity massage chair. Best believe that you’re going to need a big ass bag. Babies will shit so hard that poo climbs her back like she’s a beanstalk and her diarrhea’s Jack. When she’s not having explosions in her diapers, she’s drooling so much her clothes will feel like she just got out of the pool. You’re going to need bibs, little towels and thousands of diapers. Those diaper clutches aren’t going to cut it. Look for the biggest diaper bag you can find and buy it.
One last thing…yes, you’re going to want a diaper bag. They come with these portable changing pads that are going to come in handy. People are savages. Changing tables in public bathrooms are almost as bad as the toilets they shit in. Unless you want your baby laying in some other kid’s smeared poo, you’ll want a changing pad.
I don’t claim to be the best student. I didn’t read before class. I didn’t read after class. I did so little reading, that one might start to suspect that I don’t know how to read at all. Anyways, research and study
was is not my strength. So, naturally, when my wife asks if we should get a bottle sterilizers, I think it’s a great investment. Sure, it’ll take up counter space and costs hundred bucks, but I’m all for it if it means less work. Pour some water into the sumbitch and let it work it’s magic. Unfortunately, that’s not how life works. This fucking thing requires that you hand wash bottles before sterilizing. That means, you have to wash your bottles and then put them into the sterilizer to have them sterilized? What the fuck does that mean? I bought this machine thinking it would wash my bottles for me. What the fuck is the point? It automatically sterilizes AND dries baby bottles in 1 step-saving you time! But wait! There’s more! It uses natural steam to kill 99.9% of germs. Now, let’s look at the instructions. We can skip down to step 5. “Place clean bottles with their opening facing downward….” PLACE CLEAN BOTTLES?! Fuck you. Kills 99.9% of germs… Then what was the point of hand washing the bottles in the first place? Not only have you NOT saved me time, but you’ve added an extra step in my cleaning process. I have to go out and buy distilled water, pour it into your time suck, put bottles in and wait 45 minutes for you to finish cleaning my clean bottles. Unless you feel the need to take up counter space, do not buy a bottle sterilizer. Go fuck yourself Baby Brezza.
Unless you enjoy scrubbing shit out of baby clothes, I suggest you ask all of your friends who have kids and ask them what diapers they use. Before I had a kid, the only thing I knew about diapers were that it was a way for your baby to sit in her own piss and shit for hours on the down low. I had no idea that there were different levels of containment. Like with everything in life, size matters. I only have experience with two brands of diapers and the difference is like early morning and midday.
First, we’ll talk about huggies. Fuck huggies. They’re basically thong diapers. They’re tiny as shit and don’t keep any of it in. I think the ratio is 1 blowout for every 5 shitty diapers used. For those who don’t know, a blowout is when the baby’s poo climbs her back like a vine on a wall. I guess there’s just so much force when it comes out that it follows the curve of the diaper like stock cars around a race track. Most of the time, you won’t even notice until you pick her up and feel a moist back. The first couple of times I just thought she was super sweaty, but when you see mustard on your hands, you know you’ve got a problem. How do you clean baby mustard off the baby when your hands are full of it? Fuck huggies.
Second, we’ll talk about regular pampers. So far, I’ve only had 3 blowouts with pampers and I’ve gone through at least 4 cases of them. I’m pretty happy with them. There are times when she’s just sitting there, acting all innocent and then it sounds like a rocket on its way to the International Space Station. After her sigh of relief and a slight smile, we know what time it is. There have been times when there’s no white left on the inside of the diaper, yet it’s all contained.
Third, we’ll discuss those night time pampers. Although my experience with night time pampers is limited, I can tell you that it’s a scam. They’re more expensive and they do the same shit. How much more absorbent can a diaper be? If the difference between regular and night time diapers is really that drastic, why can’t they put that technology into the regular diaper? It’s another marketing scam by big diaper.
One of the toughest parts about being a parent is dealing with the parents who have children that are about the same age as your sack of joy. I’m not talking about the times when you get to share war stories about the diaper blowouts or incredible hulkesk fits. Those are fun. I’m talking about the constant competition of the sacks in question. Who’s cooing first, who’s grabbing shit and when they’re grabbing, who’s going to what school, who’s reading or who’s getting arrested first. I honestly don’t care about your little shit just like you probably don’t care about mine, except to compare. Not only are you creating tension between you and your peers, but shit flows down river. It’s going to bleed into the kid’s psyche too. They’re going to end up resenting each other and if my kid’s socially fucked up like I am, she’s can’t afford to lose friends. In a perfect world, all parents would be judgement free and be proud of your own spawn as well as be happy for those around you. There’s a silver lining though. As the kid’s life slowly takes over your life, you end up having less time to spend with the people who annoy you. You may judge, but you’ll find yourself judging somebody else’s kid and not mine.
A week ago today, my Step Mother passed away. She spent the past 2 years battling lung cancer. She didn’t smoke nor did she abuse her body with sodium and sugar. She exercised regularly and took very good care of herself. She and I believe that stress was what helped this terrible disease thrive in her body. We miss her.
I’d like to talk about one of my first memories with Becky. I remember my Dad nonchalantly says was coming over with gifts for me. Of course, I was excited. What kid doesn’t like new toys? After, what felt like centuries had passed I finally heard the knock on the door. I rushed to greet her and was ready to see what Becky bought me. With a big smile on her face, she handed me a stack of books.
I looked down at the stack and thought, ok cool, but what’d she buy me. As I stared at the title of the first book, it slowly set in; these were the gifts. To add insult to injury, she wanted read them with me, so we settled in and began our journey.
At that time, my family was going through a restructure, which is difficult for parents, but even more so for their children. Becky was the type of person who would do a lot of research, whether it was to understand her cat better or to help an 8 year old boy get through the separation of his parents.
At that moment, her simple gesture was just that, a simple gesture. Looking back, at who she was and how she approached everything in her life, it was so much more.
- She could have easily bought me the action figures or nerf guns I was secretly thinking about as we read together, but instead she put thought into what might be better for me. She thought about the situation I was in and how to help me through it.
- She cared enough to take the time to read through the books before she bought them and when I say read through them, I mean all of them. She didn’t just whimsically pick a few and rush up to the cash register. She went through every single book in that section and read through them to make sure the information was relevant to me.
- She didn’t just hand me the books and let me go off on my own. She wanted to read those books together and talk about what I was going through. Becky was excited to share this moment of healing with me.
- She did, for me that day, what she continued to do for the next 25 years. She did what she thought was best for me.
She was a very special person who always cared for others more than she cared for herself, even in her last days.
The concept of a baby carrier is genius. Why use your hands to carry your baby when you can just strap her to your chest/stomach. Might as well get used to the extra weight, because you’ll be living with that beer gut for the rest of your life. The execution of the baby carrier, however, feels subpar. That’s not to say that they don’t work, because they seem to work great. The problem is getting her strapped in. It’s supposed to be a one man job, but, jesus christ, does it feel like it takes at least 3 people to safely get her in. You have one strap around the waist, one strap around the neck, one strap under each armpit and then a strap for the strap on top of the strap for the other strap. We get it, you like straps. However, I have a simpler solution. Take an old backpack you no longer use or care about and give it new life. Throw some padding inside to make sure baby’s comfortable, cut out some holes for the legs and you’ve just created your own simple baby carrier. You’re welcome.