The life and times of an irrational father. One man, multiple personalities.
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You have many faces, boy

July 22nd, 2010 | Posted by Joe in sad | Tyler - (6 Comments)

Dear Mr. Hyde Tyler,

When you woke up this morning, you weren’t the happy and smiling boy that I so love to see before I head off to work each day. You wouldn’t smile at me, and you wouldn’t give me a hug or a kiss. I told you that I love you and you said, “no.”

And then, I made you cry. You see, we have a rule in the house. You are only allowed to have your pacifier at nap-time. When you wake up, it’s time to take the paci out. We make a game out of it by saying “POOEY PACI,” and then you spit the paci out. This morning, you came into our room at five in the morning, crying and asking for your paci. Mommy tried to comfort you, but you cried louder. So, she gave you a paci and you went back to your bed. When you woke up and came downstairs, you still had your paci. Mommy and I both told you that you couldn’t have the paci downstairs. You simply said , “no,” and wouldn’t take it out. So, I took it from you. That made you cry.

Soon, I accepted that my attempts at siphoning some affection from you were fruitless, and I told you that I was going to work. As I walked toward the door you bellowed, “NEEEEEEEEED DADDYYYYY!”

My heart split as I pulled the door closed behind me. I had to come back into the house a couple moments later, because I forgot a package I needed to bring with me. I gave your mommy another hug and, whispering in my ear, she implored me to try again with you. I did, and you rejected me once more. I felt a lump start to form in my throat, so I turned and left before the tears could begin to well in my eyes and spill down my cheeks.

Tyler, if you ever have a son or a daughter, I want you to read this letter again. You need to understand that, sometimes, there will be bad days. Heartbreakingly sad days. All-around, infuriatingly mad days. But, also understand, son, that your child still loves you and looks up to you, and learns so very much from you.

I do.

Later, when your child finishes waking up, or when you get home from work, it’ll all be water under the bridge to your little one. But you? You’ll still hold onto a sliver of those bruised emotions. You’ll wonder what level of hell you’re about to enter as you open the door. And when that child charges at you and jumps into your arms? Well, that next hug will amaze you, probably faze you, knock you down, pick you up, spin you around dizzy and daze you.

It did to me.

And when you think to yourself, Man, I really hope I’ve never put my parents through all this crap, read this letter again, you little turd.

Staying at home

August 1st, 2009 | Posted by Joe in babysitting | family | joe | sad | Tyler - (6 Comments)


Sarah left me today. When she finished loading up her Blazer, the only space not packed floor-to-ceiling was the driver’s seat. Every year, Sarah drives to her Aunt’s house for “girl’s week.” She spends a week up there with her three sisters. They drink, hang out by the pool, play card games, and talk about going to Lake Michigan (which is just minutes away). They talk about going there, but it just doesn’t seem to happen. Since I still have to work while she’s gone, Tyler will also be going up there for the week. This year, they are also having a bachelorette party for one of her sisters. Tyler is not invited to that. As a result, I am the stay at home parent for two days.

“I don’t want to leave. You do it everyday. It’s different for you,” she said.

“I’m bringing him up to you in two days. It’s not a big deal.”

“YES it is! I just wish I could see him again before I leave.”

“Hon, it’s probably better that you leave while he’s napping. Go on, get out.”

“Why are you so eager to get rid of me?”

*SIGH OF EXASPERATION*

Sarah did get to say goodbye to Tyler, because he woke up just seconds before she left. Sarah then proceeded to find reasons to delay her departure. First she tried getting clothes for him to wear for the day. I kicked her out of his room and ordered her downstairs. Then, she asked Tyler for enough kisses to get her through the next two days. I could go on, but I think my point has been made.

Stay at home parenting is hard! My day was filled with the following:

“Please don’t touch that.”
“Close that, Tyler.”
“That’s not for Tyler’s mouth.”
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”
“WHAT’S IN YOUR MOUTH?! Seriously, what is that? Why do you eat anything and everything?”
“Tyler, please don’t touch daddy’s penis. I’m trying to pee.”

I’m not trying to say we didn’t have a good day. Quite the contrary, actually. I just wasn’t prepared for the need to have more than one set of eyes at all moments of the day. We had an absolute blast today. He can now show me where his belly button is. He kept digging his finger into mine (so hard, in fact that it was hurting my manhood), and I would say “That’s daddy’s belly button.” Soon, I started asking him where his belly button was, and I would show him. After a few demonstrations, he started lifting his own shirt up and pointing at it. One time, he pushed on it and either tickled himself, or did the same thing that he did to me (made his junk hurt),  because he looked up with a silly little grin on his face.

Shortly thereafter, Tyler started pooping. That, in and of itself, is fine. I know it’s a normal bodily function and am perfectly fine with it. What I was not perfectly fine with was Tyler standing over me and staring me directly in the eyes while doing so. I thought babies were supposed to go hide in a corner when they crap themselves. I have also learned – from Sarah’s mistake – to give Tyler a couple extra minutes to finish his business before changing him.

“Just let me know when you’re done, and we’ll get that diaper changed.”

I tried to hide the slight frustration in my voice when I said that. I was less than pleased that he was desecrating a 5 minute old diaper. Why couldn’t he have said, “Wait a couple minutes, pops. I’ve got a major transaction to complete before you change this dirty diaper. There’s no need to dirty a second diaper, right?” Instead, Tyler let me change his dirty diaper, so that he could poop in a clean one. Tyler, you may not be aware of this, but those Mickey Mouse diapers you’re filling with your waste are expensive! My bank account cries every time you poop. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone next time, whaddya say?

I decided to pass the time by tweeting this:

I find it disturbing when Tyler is staring me in the eyes while he grunts and poops. AND THEN tries sitting on my chest!

I am lying on my back, on the floor, and typing this message on my phone. The very moment I press the send button, a diaper lands on my face. Tyler was apparently ready for a new diaper, because he went to the basket, grabbed one out and brought it to me. If any of you were thinking hoping that he took his dirty diaper off and dropped it on me, SHAME ON YOU.

We played, we read books, we went for a walk, we ate together. We had a great time tonight. I’m going to miss him next week.

Tiny holes for tiny straws

June 8th, 2009 | Posted by Joe in sad | scared | sick Tyler | superhero | surgery - (3 Comments)

 
Tyler has surgery tomorrow, June 10th, 2009.

I know I lied about this once before*, but I’m serious this time. Tyler needs real surgery.

After three courses of antibiotic treatments, some chiropractic visits, probiotic supplements and crossed fingers, Tyler’s ear digging continues.

At his last appointment, our doctor grimaced when she looked into his ears. She referred us (I say "us", but I was working, so it was Sarah and Tyler) to an ENT (ear, nose and throat specialist) who got us in for a same-day consultation. After reviewing Tyler’s history with Sarah, he took a peek into Tyler’s ears and the decision was made.

I can’t say I’m surprised, because Sarah had multiple ear surgeries as a child, and her dad also had ear problems as a youngster. So, deep down, I had a feeling fear that we would end up down this road.

The surgery itself isn’t a very big deal. The surgeon will cut a tiny, tiny hole in each eardrum, then place a tiny, tiny straw into each hole. This will then allow air into his ears so that the goop in there can dry up and/or drain out. Going under the knife before he’s even a year old is unfortunate, but necessary. The "knife" part isn’t what concerns me; it’s the "going under" part. The very day that the ENT tells us Tyler needs surgery, I see this article online. If you don’t want to read the article, here’s a snippet:

Now a new study from the Mayo Clinic, published on March 24 in the journal Anesthesiology, finds a link between exposure to anesthesia during surgery in infancy and learning disabilities later in life — the first such study to do so in humans — making the decision to operate even more fraught for both parents and doctors.

The article goes on to say that this is very preliminary data, and that they aren’t sure if there is a definitive link or if there’s just an association. Essentially, the takeaway from the article is "don’t worry… yet."

There’s nothing I can do about it, and I know it seems trivial to worry over something as simple as getting ear tubes, but I suspect that’s all part of being a parent.

I wonder if I can talk the surgeon into injecting some type of superhuman powers into Tyler… just a thought.

* I’m happy to report that Tyler looks like a tiny me again. Viva la Joe’s genetic sequence!

Breaking Ground

December 22nd, 2008 | Posted by Joe in pain | sad | teething - (2 Comments)
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Tyler doesn’t cry very much.

When a person is reading something, in print or on screen, it’s difficult to always know what emotion is the author is trying to convey. If you knew Tyler to be a major screamer and crier, and you read that first line, you’d say to yourself, “wow… that Joe is so witty. He’s being sarcastic, and I find that to be quite funny.” So, let me be clear. Tyler doesn’t cry very much. Scouts’ honor. Honest Abe. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.

He’s only 5 months old, so his favored form of communication is crying. Luckily for us, he rarely – if ever – cries for no reason. He used to go bonkers when he was hungry, screaming like it was the end of all mankind, and his only chance for survival was some breastmilk within the next nanosecond or two. I wouldn’t pass him off to Sarah until he calmed down though. I think it drove Sarah crazy, because it made her sad to hear Tyler cry. As soon as Tyler calmed down, I’d give him right to Sarah for some nursies. I hesitate to call it “tough love”, mostly because I absolutely adore the little monster, but I want him to understand that screams will not get rewarded. I’m not sure if Tyler’s non-crying demeanor is just a trait of his, or if it’s a result of how Sarah and I responded to his screaming. He does get fussy when he’s hungry, or tired, or needs changing, or wants attention, or if Delilah has licked his face a little too much. And I have no problem with this. He’s been starting his hand/arm gestures recently too. He reaches out for us, he pulls my head close to his when I’m holding him, he hugs Sarah’s head when she’s snuggling him, he pets Delilah (and sometimes grabs and squeezes her fur and face), and he pushes her away when she’s being a pest. It’s a fantastic transition, and a sad one. But hand and arm gestures aren’t my concern today; screaming is.

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Tyler’s first tooth has just pushed through his gums. His front, bottom, slightly-to-the-left tooth is making its grand entrance to the world. If you look closely at the picture (click to view it larger), you’ll see it in there. To say that I’m elated would be an overstatement, and to say that I’m saddened would be a huge understatement. I think it’s great that my little baby is growing, but I also think it’s the saddest thing in the world that my little baby is growing. It’s only been 5 months, and it’s only felt like 3 or 4 days. Sarah noticed it a few days ago. His gums were a little swollen, and he’s been grumpy with breastfeeding. Last Tuesday, he grabbed my finger and shoved it in his mouth. When he bit down, I felt it!! His first tooth broke through. *sigh*

As a result, Tyler is screaming. I don’t remember what it felt like when I was teething 29.8 years ago, but I’m sure it didn’t feel good. He’s not screaming because he’s unhappy. He’s screaming because he’s – presumably – in legitimate pain. And THAT is breaking my heart. Thank the heavens above for baby Oragel, or whatever off brand it was that we bought. “Little Teethers” or something like that. I’ve heard of people rubbing whiskey on a baby’s gums to soothe the pain, and I’d be lying if I told you that it never crossed my mind. I’ve got a couple different flavors to choose from, and contemplated doing a double blind taste test with Tyler, to see if he preferred a Tennessee blend over a Canadian mix. Sarah would send me to the morgue in a body bag if I got Tyler liquored up, so we’ve got the Benzocain to numb his aching gums instead.

I’m sad that Tyler’s teething, I’m horrified that this is only the first of 20 baby teeth. But the worst is hearing his screams. It makes my heart hurt. It’s time to make sure we’ve got teething rings in the fridge, wet wash cloths in the freezer, and be prepared to do a lot of gum massaging.

And just as things start to get better, Tyler starts screaming again. I looked into his mouth today, and see that his first tooth’s neighbor is breaking ground as well. What was once nothing but a desolate, gummy pasture is quickly turning into a booming subdivision, and all the lots are being purchased at a record rate. One tooth has moved in, and the second has secured its lot. Before I have time to blink, all 20 lots will be purchased and in the building phase. Due to a mortgage crisis in a few more years, those teeth will be evicted, making room for a more permanent residency.