Pics of the Month

These are my 3 favorite pics from the first month.

The original Burrito.

Peek-a-Boo

My favorite

KP turns 1 month!

Wow... How the time flies?

So what have we learned in the last month?

1. Well. There's no more "Couple Time"! Gone... Finito! Sayonara! Now its all about the KP and her needs! Damned if she isn't needy.
2. We've heard of how the 1st child reverts to babyhood when the 2nd one comes... But has anyone heard of the 1st pet doing the same? Wow. Poor dude. We've tried to make sure he gets his time too!
3. KP's starting to get some nicknames: Kempah P (her rap name!), Kemperpilar (say it fast, like caterpillar), Fussy Miss Fussenstuffs (sort of German), Fidget (every time I try to put the damned diaper on), Piglet (my favorite!), KP, Cranky McCrankers, Kempie, Burrito.
4. I love coming home, opening the door, and yelling: " Where ... my ... bi*%#3$ ... at ?!?!?!" Now, does the DQ like it? Hmmm....
5. KP definitely has her moments. The best: "Drunk on the Sauce" and early morning. Other times she's still pretty cute.
6. She's starting to go 4-5 hours in between feeding. Whew!
7. She definitely has her daddy's GI tract! Wow! I totally get to use the "Its the Baby!" excuse!
8. We've avoided the dreaded "Nipple Confusion". We were pretty scared about it too. I mean, wow, we couldn't have her trying to suckle on my hairy breasts, now could we?!?! That would've really been weird. Thankfully she is taking a bottle every so often and still gettin' it from the DQ!
9. The paci is our best friend! There is never a moment where it isn't in her mouth, or we're trying to put it there. I think we need like 20 of them, for all different locations in the GreenMachine.
10. Sometimes she just goes **plop** and the paci just shoots out. No warning. Then we struggle to put it back. It takes like 5 mins to do what she undid in 1 sec. Damn.
11. KP now has her own iPod. Yup. The DQ made a "mixtape" of music for her sleeping pleasure. It is all club and trance music, Postal Service and ADNY. I was a little concerned, not wanting to make my little girl a clubber. But then I sat in the rocker and listened. 2 hours later, when I woke up, I was convinced.
12. Speaking of which, I can't look at teenagers anymore. Too many cutoffs and midriff shirts! Oh god. I am only going to let her wear potato sacks. Maybe a smock. I might go the whole Amish clothing route. I wonder if I can find some of that stuff on the internet?
13. The DQ is solid and I am holding up my end of the Daddy bargain. I do my "Daddy Daycare" in the afternoons, so the DQ can go to the gym. She also runs errands and such. I should say that my Daddy Daycare is sponsored by the BabyBjorn. Those crazy Swedes concocted a nice little contraption there. She loves it. I vacuum with the Dyson, and she goes right to sleep. Must be genetic.
14. She definitely has the Yarnoz hair genetics. I am not sure how that goes for women. I'll have to ask my sister. But if that back hair starts getting curly, then we're in trouble.
15. Speaking of hair, I started getting gray chest hair. Damn. I was kind of hoping it would just fall out.
16. We've started using the G Diapers. You might ask, what does the "G" stand for? Well... it stands for Green. Hmmm... How can diapers be green, I thought they were the worst thing in the world? Well, someone somewhere made a green diaper, and the DQ found it. (actually the GC found it, but now she's the artist formally known as the GC). These things are actually pretty cute, and consist of 2 cloth diapers with removable inserts. These inserts then get discarded in the toilet. Wow, I thought, when I first heard about them, these sound awesome! The trick is that you have to do some manual manipulation of the insert prior to the toilet. Oh! Once I heard this, I was totally skeptical about the outfit. The first go around, I let the DQ do it. It actually worked well. Now we'll see if the KP can summon up one of her Tapioca Blowouts to really test it. I'll let you know.
17. We've started going to church. She actually does pretty well there, except for the fact that we're always running behind. We usually arrive about 5mins into the ceremony. The other day the DQ made some poor old man switch aisles so she could sit down on the end. He looked betwixted, but dutifully made the move. I mouthed to him later "Sorry, this is her first mass!"
18. Every time we see the priest, he asks about her. "What's the name?" Kemper. "Aww, what a cute boy?" Then we have to correct him. Then he asks "Whens the baptism?" Soon sir, soon. Now things could get interesting in the eyes of the church, if the priest tries to baptize KP as a dude. Hmmmm. This might almost be as interesting as when my baptismal church said I was already married. That might be a totally new slipup. Wow!
19. The GM reno is almost done. The new light fixtures are in. We're just waiting on some last minute electrical details and the final walk through.
20. I think we've finally solved the issue of the baby monitors. Damned things squawked more than the baby cried. Horrific shrieks of electrical interference. We tried moving it all over the house, standing on one leg, bouncing, doing the hokey pokey... Finally found the spot. Now we can sleep.
21. Speaking of sleep. I'm back on my regular schedule. I sleep like a log. Seems that I can get up, go into the nursery, pick up the KP, deliver her to the DQ, and then go right back to sleep. I forget that I do it too. My only problem is that I get confused to which side to deliver her too, and just wind up dropping her in the center.

Whew! That's all I have for now. Can't wait for Month 2 to reveal itself.

New Pics

Sorry about the delay...

Enjoy

Behind the Scenes of the Most Recent Name Change

Hello, BY followers!

So, some of you might be asking, what's it like being a new daddy?

Well it's great.  The KP's amazing.  She is so adorable, especially during daylight hours.  However her big, cute eyes are not so adorable at 1 am. 

Anyway, the one thing that I haven't been able to do with my daughter is feeding.  This has been an entire DC production.  She runs the show (from her iPhone, which will be the subject of another post). 

Recently, things got a little testy:

KP: waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!  waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!  fidgetfidget

ME: Hey, DC!  I think it might be time for a feeding. 

DC: Really?  I don't think so.

KP: oink oink oink... snortle snortle...  fidget

ME: Seriously, DC.  She's making her piglet noises.

DC: Nope.  It's not time yet!  The phone says so!

ME: Seriously!?!?  This girl's hungry!!!

KP: oink oink oink... waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!! waaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!.  oink oink...

I try to console her.  I carry her on my chest upright.... then she starts rooting in my neck.

ME: Oh, DC!!! She's rooting!!! 

Next thing I know, the KP has made her way from my neck to my nose.... and she's trying to get milk from it. 

ME: OK DC!  Game over.  She's wants food and I don't think my nose is going to produce it!

DC: oh, ok!

ME: Seriously, DC.  You hoard over this milk, dispensing like its gold (I can't argue there).  It's like you some sort of queen!!!!!

Lightbulbs flashed simultaneously!  Eureka!!!!  Name change!  Send out the press notifications!

DairyQueen! 

I love it!

New Pics Posted

New pics on Snapfish - Enjoy!

Guest Post #7: Thoughts on Motherhood from the Dairy Queen

People keep asking me to comment on what it’s like to be initiated into motherhood. I guess I should comment before it is all a blur.

Motherhood is… breathtaking. How can anyone else explain the sensation of awe and anxiety that washes over you the second you have the wherewithal to understand that you’ve reproduced part of yourself via a scant 10 centimeter space in your body? It’s inexplicable.

At first I just wanted to survive the birth and get the thing out of my body. I can honestly say that this was the most exhausted I have ever been in my life. And I’ve been sleep deprived more than a few times. Childbirth was more than just sleep deprivation – it’s the equivalent of pulling 3 all-nighters, running a 10K, bleeding half to death, and having the finger of God reach out and touch you (à la Michelangelo). It feels horrible and wonderful at the same time. I wanted to cry and throw up to celebrate the moment.

The immediate second thought: was she okay? Breathing? Healthy?

The third thought: whoa, that’s a lot of dark hair.

The rest of the two days in the hospital and two syncopal episodes are, in fact, a blur. I can say that I felt not even a shred of guilt sending Kemper off to the nursery at night, to be wheeled in every few hours for a feeding. So, no, Motherhood (with a capital M) was not all-consuming. I could still prioritize my rest over listening to her every sigh and wiggle. We were a little more conscientious at home, putting the baby monitor on the “every sigh and wiggle” setting for about a week, then deciding we would much prefer what we call the “sanity” setting. (Meanwhile, the thing still has fits of feedback that wake us more than the baby, to the extent that Mike has been known to turn the entire thing off and forget to turn back on. Thankfully we have a live 70 pound hairy baby monitor who alerts us when the baby is crying.)

________________________________________________________________

So maybe one of my favorite things so far about the whole experience is seeing my medical school genetics class in a whole new light. It’s no real secret nor is it unusual that Mike and I would obsess just a little over what our unborn child would look like. Would his potent Spanish genes completely overpower my Acadian ones? I was secretly afraid that would be true – not that I mind at all what my handsome husband looks like, but my little girl should look like me, right? Mike can wait his turn and pass on his looks to his son one day. That’s just genetic equality, in my opinion. (Not to mention that I should be rewarded in some way for all the back pain I suffered.)

The first time I went to the gym to start getting back into shape, I was Kemper-flummoxed. Sitting in front of the mirrors, doing arm curls, my mouth contorted into a little “O” and I let out a grunt. And there it was: the same little expression I see on Kemper’s face every morning before she realizes she’s very hungry. And it nearly brought progesterone-deficient tears to my eyes.

It’s truly amazing, genetics. Our two little chromosomes met each other and crossed over and voila! Kemper has my mouth and the pout to prove it. (Apparently Mike has passed on his hair color and GI tract.) And this is just the beginning… It remains to be seen whether she’ll get her father’s mild manner or her mother’s need to have everything in its place. Will the poor soul overcome our lack of athletic prowess? Will she love to read, like I do, or tinker on computers like her dad? We almost can’t wait for her to grow up and show us what other combinations those cross-overs made…. but for right now we’ll just hope for Mike’s sleeping gene and hearty appetite. The rest will come over time.

The Exorcist!

Well, it turns out that Kemper-Call is much worse than my cardiology overnight call.

Overnight Monday was the day of reckoning. How would we survive with my call and the KP? I didn't know and was very nervous. The DC was the bomb! Every time the KP cried (which actually is getting back to her honeymoon stages) the DC got up. She tried to keep me sleeping, but I woke up too.

But then, the night was over and it was time to get up.

So I got up first and showered, while leaving the DC to do her D-thing to the KP. Then I got out and toweled off. The KP was finished, and she was passed off to her daddy. Ahhh.... I love it when she's drunk on the sauce. So, I'm holding her while the DC showers. Sniff, sniff... Daddy's got a present! Well, I guess I'll go do my fatherly duties. So I paddle of to the nursery, half dressed (in boxers and scrub pants), to cleanse my KP's behind. Hamilton does his doggie duty, and follows me into the room. He likes to do this now, actually leads the way and opens the door for me... how nice!

So I put her down in the changing table. She does her usual squirming. "Damn, Fidget! Hold still." I check the outside diaper... GREEN STRIPE!!! Ah, must be ready to go! Let's look under the hood- Oh, boy was it! Baby poop was everywhere! Every crevice, up her backside... Wow! So I dutifully wipe her down. She somehow is quiet during this whole endeavor... Aw, nice girl... (I should have known better) Then I pull away the used diaper and ready the new one.... KP's grunts a little.... Hmmmmm... what's that?

I turn my head in her northern direction and look. All of a sudden she coughs and then opens up the floodgates!!! Milk shoots out of everywhere!!!! Out of her mouth! out of her nose!!! out of her freakin' ears!!! I swear I saw milk from her armpits too!!! (The DC told me when she did this earlier, but I didn't believe her!) KP spewed the stuff everywhere, while turning her head in a side to side motion. It was straight out of the Exorcist, with milk instead of vomit! Oh My GOD! I instantly jump back to dodge the streams, while letting out a frightful shriek. I hear the dog scurry from the room (man's best friend my ass). I get nailed all down my lower right scrub leg. Gross!

She finally stops (I think she unloaded like 4 gallons... wow!). And starts coughing a little. Then I assess the situation in an instant. Here I was half dressed in scrubs with milk down my lower right leg. My 2wk old daughter just spewed breakfast everywhere and now is coughing. She might be choking a little, and probably needs to be burped. I should pick her up. Then I look at her bottom.... exposed!!!! Oh crap!!! I hadn't put the diaper on!!! I instantly saw myself burping the KP, and then getting pooped on. Oh no!!! This wouldn't be good. Especially since I didn't have a shirt on and was nowhere near a burp cloth. Then I saw a picture of myself with babypoo all intertwined in my man-sweater.... Double ew! Not good. I could be washing and picking that stuff out for days. I had to make an instant decision: baby or mansweater! I knew what I had to do!

I grabbed the diaper in a flash. (Meanwhile the DC is on to the stress.... "Everything ok in there?" "Ummm.... yes.... no!") Slap the diaper on her bottom... tape each of the tabs to something... (i am not sure what)... and then scoop up the KP.

By this time the KP is blissfully asleep, breathing comfortably, without a worry in the world. Daddy, on the other hand, might need to change his scrubs (for a reason other than the milk!) I hold her, and she lets out a nice burp.... then I turn to the nursery door, and see the DC and Ham standing there, quizzical.

"Oh, we're ok now!" Then I look at dog, "Without any help from you!" He sulks a little, and backs out the door.

I pass the KP off to the DC and go back to getting dressed.

Whew!

__________________________________________________
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Week 2- The Honeymoon is Over!

Man. We're beat. Dead. Zombies.

Crazy, how things can turn on a dime.

One day we were cruisin'... thinking this baby is a dream. She got up to 2-3 hours in between feedings. Sleeping in her crib, bassinet, and even a sling. She loves the BabyBjorn... leading to the DaddyBjorn pics that are in the blog. (Somehow she even liked extra noise, including the Dyson vacuum cleaner... she is definitely the DC's kid!) We were going out and about. We went to downtown this weekend for an art festival.

Then, in a blink of our newborn's eye, it all vanished!

Gone... Like the Dodo... Sabertooth Tiger... and the Sasquatch... all extinct!!!

Unbelievable!!! What happened!?!?! We are at a loss!

She only will sleep on or near the DC! She won't go in her crib or bassinet... She won't last longer than 2 hours in between feeds... OH MY GOD!!! If she wasn't so damned cute, I would have taken her back for a refund!

Welcome to newborn hell! This is what everyone has warned (and chuckled) about.

Yesterday, I tried anything I could think... singing... pacing... bouncing... rocking... singing and pacing... bouncing and rocking... you get the picture... NADA! 3am yesterday she just looks up at me, with those amazingly cute eyes, and just stares.... No sleep for brooklyn! or kemper or daddy for that matter!!! I thought about benadryl... the DC says no! I think about some Jim Beam... the DC says hell no! Damn those motherly instincts!!!

She is off now, reading the internet sites feverishly trying to find a cure... I am wondering when that damned "Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Parents" book is going to kick in... Damn!

If it was for my medications, I think I would lose all of my hair!!!

New Pics

Big upload... Now up to 140+

Enjoy.

Two Weeks!!!

Well, BY Followers. Kemper has made it to two weeks.

We had our 2 week pediatrician visit today. I met the ladies at the office. KP was soooo cute in her carseat. The DC had to stop at Port City Java to get a pick-me-up.

The visit with the pediatrician went well. Kemper had a little present in her drawers for the nurse. 'See, the pooper's working!' Yay!

Then the weighin- she's gained a pound!!! That DC-produced sauce is the bomb! (I am not sure how or when we started calling it 'the sauce', but that is our callsign for the goodstuff. We originally tried 'the juice' but didn't sound right and so we made the switch.)

Then the lovely chart comes out, and she gets plotted on it. (This is really the only thing that I remember from my pediatrics rotation: you want to stay on the chart. When you fall off, that is not good. I got a little nervous, and looked over the nurses shoulder while she plotted it.) KP's on the chart! Whew!

Exam goes well. Nothing exciting to report. Then we're done.

Then I packed up the KP and put her in the hybrid, while the DC checks out. This time I had them tattoo the next appointment on the DC's forehead. (She somehow forgot this one...alas)

I had to go back to work. (Where I can deftly post to the BY blog.... yay!)

The GC Gets a New Name, and Other Random, Useless Week 1 Musings from a Mildly Deranged, Sleep-Deprived Daddy

Whew, week 1 in the books! Fun stuff.

So we have collectively known Charmaine as the GolfCart for months now. I think I came to the realization while still in the hospital that her nickname would not suffice anymore. I was at a loss. I couldn't go back to calling her Charmaine. No. We needed something more BY-ish. So I racked my brain for hours... nothing. A day went by... no new nickname. How could I go on with the blog without a new name? I didn't know. I was in trouble, and I knew it. Then, like usually happens with me, stuff falls from the sky. Or in our case, the Maine's milk came in!!! Hoooorrraaaay!!! And then it dawned on me! Her new nickname was crystal clear. It had to be. No denying it now. The DairyCart! DC for short!

Here are some other random tidbits of useless knowledge:

• Man, it has been an interesting week. No complaints. The DC's mom came in for the week, and instantly came to our aid. We were so dead on Sat, I don't think we would have been able to eat. That weekend LaLa made some sumptuous feasts, including filets and baked chicken. Later, during the week she made red beans, pasta, and a roux. Whew, thank goodness!


• KP makes some awesome faces. Cutest things in the world. Many of you had probably checked them out in the Snapfish album. What I don't understand is why do these faces always come before she gives us something not-so-cute in her britches? Why? Her most recent face was "Damn Daddy, my belly hurts and I got to drop some trow in my diapers" smirk that was to die for. Almost did after smelling her little present seconds later.


• KP's sounds are so cute too. In person. Somehow the babymonitor takes every sound she makes and distorts it into something hideous. Gasp! Did she just throw up and then aspirate all of her milk?!?!? We run into to check her... nope, just a sigh. Oh my god! Did she just gnaw off her arm?!! We bolt in to find her peacefully asleep. Then we decided to use the voice activated feature... whew! I sleep so much better.


• Also our babymonitor does some hideous noices at completely random intervals. Sort of like interference from cellphones or something. This usually happens at like 2-3am, jolting us out of whatever sleep we were in. I almost want to throw it against the wall... but relent.


• Ham's getting better with the baby. His world has totally gotten thrown upside down. He has definitely gotten moved down a peg. He tries to get it back though. When KP cries, Ham cries. He nuzzles. He tries to be cuter than before. Sort of works. But he won't become #1 until he can get me a beer from the beverage fridge.


• We had our first BY fieldtrip. For lunch. I bet you BY viewers can't guess where. The DC, LaLa, KP, and I went to .... you guessed it... Moe's for lunch. Great stuff. She was out the whole time. She likes the carseat.


• We are starting to notice little tendencies with the KP. Little nuances. She doesn't like the full burrito... she needs her arms free. She waves them all over. The best are her sleeping poses, which I have tried to capture. She totally looks like she is posing for a camera.


• Sometimes, in the middle of the night, she arouses and starts crying. Usually its a dirty diaper. I go in, change it, and then try to rock her to sleep. This usually succeeds in causing me to fall asleep too. Once I woke up to the KP sucking on my nose. Interesting. She didn't like it very much.


• The DC took KP to downtown Wilmington with LaLa and Morgan (who came in for the weekend). She loved the stroller. I met them for lunch, which she somehow tolerated as well. Slowly we're making our way outside. Still, however, under the 2-3h limit. We won't breastfeed in public. Ew!


• Speaking of which, I don't know if I could ever get used to the DC just whipping it out in a restaurant for the KP. Nope. Never. Get a room!


• The DC has been great! She has definitely taken to the motherhood like a champ. She's amazing. Nonstop. She's even got the cleaning bug back. Yay!!! Also, turns out that the hands-free feature on the Madonna breastpump comes in pretty handy around our house.


• Now that LaLa has left us today, we're slowly coming to the realization that we're running the ship here. Scary stuff. She was great all week, although we were probably very boring. Come back, LaLa!


• Oh, I got KP's birth certificate from the Register of Deeds here. It actually took like 8minutes to get, and 4 of them were for parking. I was amazed. But then, when I looked at the document, I realized why. It lookes like it was freaking produced from a home computer and a desktop laser printer. No fancy print. No elegant embossing. No multicolors. Just a green piece of paper and black text. I mean ... damn! At least give me some photoshop action! Nope. Small town living.


• Finally her cord fell off. The last remnant of her womb-living. Gone. Yay! It wasn't as exciting as I had hoped. I was expecting something like the Tooth Fairy to present us with a gift. Or some Muzak or angels or something. Nope, damn thing just came off with a changing. Bloop, there it is! Oh, kinda gross. There's still a little scab remaining too. Where's the cute little belly button? And I still can't take her in a bath! Damn nature!


• Why does everything smell like Desitin now? Seriously... It's everywhere!


• Someone should have taken a video of when we tried to put this stuff on. Oh gosh! It was so thick. Poor KP's tucus looked all glistened and white when we were done spreading it on. It was like thick icing. Everywhere.


• Changing KP is an adventure. Sometimes she starts kicking before I can grab her legs.... ugh... ankle in poop... damn...


• How does poop get behind the knee? Seriously?!?


• I haven't gotten peed on yet. Still waiting. But I have the new diaper on the ready.
  
• I do hate her new 'bait and switch' tactic. She gets fussy, and gets checked. Oh, green stripe... time to change. She gets changed. I sit her up and then she looks at me, scrunches up her face, and lets out a load in the fresh diaper! Damn!


• I can't tell whats worse: hearing the sound of a freshly laid diaper present or feeling it hit the diaper with your forearm.


• The best time for KP watching is after feeding. The DC calls it "Drunk on the Sauce!". She literally passes out with no body control at all. She's putty. Once the DC skipped around the house afterwards... she was sooo proud. I agreed.

Well that's all I got for now. Can't wait for week 2.

New Pics

Updated 9/6/09, 1015pm.
Enjoy!

Daddy Goes Shopping!

Well, last Saturday finally came. We were beat (please read prior post as to why). When LaLa (the GC's mom) arrived at noon, I am sure we looked like zombies....

But then I got a shower and was recharged. I felt energized... like I needed to get out of the house.... I know! I'll go to Target! I love that store!

So I ask the GC if she needs anything from the store. "Sure, hon." So I get out a piece of paper, and get ready to transcribe... "Ok, I'm ready."

"Ok, we need some cleaning supplies." Got it

"Some light bulbs..." Ok

"I need a breast pump..." Ok..... er..... Wait a minute!! "What?"

"A breast pump..." Seriously?

"Yes" How do I pick one out? At this point I was hoping she would say, "oh you're right, that's silly... i'll get one later...." But no.

"Go to the baby section, and look for the one with the lady pumping while typing on the computer." Seriously? You want me to buy your pump?

"Yeah. Chop chop"

Nice... Wow... "I mean do you need anything else?" Some female pads or underpants perhaps?!?!?

"Oh yeah, I need some tops that can allow me to breastfeed" Oh come on now!!!!

"Yup. That's it. I'm going to go take a nap now."

Damn.

So I sulk off. As I am driving, 4Runner-style (much manlier than the hybrid), I am totally cursing out the GC! Damn, vile woman!!! Who does she think she is?!?! Man, I'm screwed! My manhood is officially out of commission (as if it wasn't before). I get to Target, and am still steaming as I walk in....

Ahhhh! Target!!! I love me some Target! One of the things I love about Target is that they have a fastfood section right in the entrance. Here I usually buy a 32oz fountain drink, and get like 5 refills before I leave. (I even do laps around the store, designed to pass by the fountain at key intervals for the refill. ahhhh the refill!!!). I needed a pick-me-up, so I buy a drink. Ahhhh much better.... I can definitely drudge through Target sans manhood now!

So I go off, diet pepsi in tow! First stop, women's clothing. Great. Might as well get it over with. So there I was, (imagine to yourselves)... a single dude in a t-shirt, shorts, and flipflops slurping down a 32oz fountain drink... mulling through women's lingerie... looking for some sort of breastfeeding shirt. Just lovely! Women were giving me dirty looks. One mother turned away, ushering her little daughter down the next aisle. Just great! I tried to mouth "My wife just delivered our first..." but it was too late. Damage done. I was waiting for the overhead security anouncement.... "Security to lingerie, ASAP!" I could see myself on websites now. "Honey, it's time to move!" But none came. After about 15min, I gave up. I had to move on.

Next stop, baby aisle. Oh my god! There were some many freakin babypumps! Unbelievable. There were two ladies with there newborns in the aisle too, checking them out. I stroll up, soda in tow, "Hey ladies... just checking out some pumps!", I think to myself. Dirty looks abound. "er... wife... pregnant..." No use.... Maybe it was the flipflops, too beachy. So I start looking. Had to find the lady typing on the computer. Finally I found it! Thank God! I see the picture.... holy crap! That is a freakin torture device. It looks like something from the Madonna Baby Pump Collection. I was absolutely dumbfounded. I mean, that thing CANNOT be comfortable. Holy crap, how does it stay on!?!? I have included some pics of the box cutouts, for your enjoyment. This thing is crazy! So I call the GC, for confirmation. That's the one. Get it! Check

So I put this ga-gillion dollar maternity torture device in the cart and shuffle off. Unfortunately there was no way to hide the pics. Everyone I passed with the cart had the same reaction: look down at cart, hmmm, look up at me, scornful face. I was defeated at this point. I didn't even try to mouth a supportive phrase. Yes, I'm a freak. This isn't for my wife, it's for me. But damn this Diet Pepsi is tasty. Oh wait... it's time for a refill... I circle around to the fountain! More scornful looks as I fill up my cup. Ahhh, tastes so good!

Then I get the even brighter idea... well if I have to buy this thing, then I'm doing it with class. I need some wine! I push off to the wine section, and grab 3 bottles. Get some crackers. Some soda was on sale, so I grabbed that too. Grabbed some other things on the way to the checkout line. Slurp... time for another refill... ahhh.

Man you should've seen the faces during checkout. Wow! I just kept slurping on my diet pepsi and the items go by. Crazy Madonna Torture breast pump. beep! (I actually cringed for a second, hoping that the checkout lady didn't have to do a pricecheck. But that would've really sealed the deal.) Bottle of merlot... beep! another bottle of merlot ... beep! I look back at the lady right behind me, who has this atrocious look on her face. "Yup... gonna be a wild night tonight!!!!" I pay and drudge off....

Oh wait, time for another refill!!

More Pics

Updated today.
Enjoy

Anatomy of a Kemper

So, for over the last week, the GC and I have been debating which parts of Kemper were from who (er... whom??? Man, I don't do no English good)

Anyways, this is what we have come up with:

Hair: definitely Michael. No question here. She even has some arm and back hair too, although very very fine.

Lips: definitely Charmaine. No doubt. Best feature by far. These babies are sooo expressive. The upper lip is clearly the GC's, and when that lower lip puffs out....

Eyelashes: Michael. Maybe my best feature. She's got em!

Ears: Charmaine, we think. This one is still up for debate, but they look good.

Gas/GI: definitely Michael. Wow. This baby can definitely stink up the joint with one small bomb. She is as regular like her daddy. I am sooo proud!

Eyebrows: TBD.

Nose: Charmaine, we think. Pretty cute, but we both have good noses. She doesn't pick it yet, so this one goes to the GC.

Eyes: clearly the most important feature, and for this one we have no idea. They are a nice blue-grey, but who knows what that'll mean.

That's it for now. We will be revisiting this one later, when she develops traits.... including the early-AM-breakfast-making trait, the vacuuming-at-all-hours trait, and of course, the supreme-organizational trait.

For review, please see the picture below.

The First 24: Kemper, Hamilton, and TS Danny

This post has definitely lost its umph as time has gone on.  In fact, the lack of sleep could easily change my memories of this day.  But, here we go...

So last Friday was the day.  The GC and I knew it.  No more nursery.  No more nurses to wisk the Kemper away, off to let us sleep.  Nope... we would be on our own.  Damn!

That morning I woke up from my fold-over bed (wasn't very comfortable), kiss the GC and go home.  I shower, show Ham another blanket (for which he again had no interest), and get him to do his business.  Then I go into work.  I had to see one patient before I went to the hospital to replace a pacemaker.  Everybody wants to see pics of the KP.  'Aw she's sooo cute.'  'She's adorable.'  Yup, just like her momma.  Then after all that is done, I get back to the BWCWCC to pick up my family.

So there the 3 of us are, waiting in the GC's room to get checked out.  I look at the GC- yeah she's ready.  I'm pumped.  The nurse comes and goes over the discharge packet.  We ask questions.  Then we're done.  "Do you want me to bring up the car seat to put her in?"  I ask.  "No, you do that downstairs."  Hmmm, I guess they do the parental oversight downstairs.  Ok.  I get out the door.  Then I hear the nurse saying goodbye to the GC.  "Wait, aren't you coming downstairs with us?"  I gasp...  "No.  The volunteers will be here shortly to help you down."  Uh oh!  I guess there's no oversight...  So I run off to get the car, pull out of the parking lot and  ... rain!!!  Wow!!!  Oh, I forgot the dang TS Danny is rolling by.  Lovely.  So I cruise hybrid style over to the BWCWCC patient pickup window.  Oh, there they are!

So there's the GC holding KP, with two little teenage volunteers drudging our stuff behing her.  I pull up close and get out.  Alright, lets get moving!  Baby first!  Hmmm.... "Should we put the baby in the car or take the carseat out?"  Issue #1: not knowing how to get baby in carseat.  Great.  Now I'm getting a little nervous.  This isn't as smooth as I thought.  "Let's take the carseat out" the GC says.  Good... she's the smart one.  Alright, I get the seat out and put it on the ground.  "No silly, put it on this cart."  "Ok, it didn't look that sturdy though.  Ok"  Alrighty, we're moving forward.  Carseat on cart.  Baby into seat....  ummm.. Crap... "How do you loosen the harness straps?" I ask.  "Hmmm...." goes the GC.  Here's where the wheels come off!  If the GC doesn't know, we're screwed.  So there we were, two highly educated MD's (one with 7 years of postgrad training, the other with more degrees and initials after her name then I can count) who can't get their baby in the seat.  We flip the seat over... nope.  We shake it... nope.  We turn it on its side... nope.  We pull, and pull, and pull... nope.  I look hopelessly at the volunteers: "You guys wouldn't have an idea here, would you?"  "Sorry... hee hee."  Lovely.  More rain is pouring down.  Maybe God is telling us something... Go back inside!!!  NO, we drudge on.  "I know... I'll get the directions!!!"  Yes, whew!  I go back in the car, and grab the directions.  I flip furiously through the booklet... there!!!  OOOOOHHHH!!!  I swear I had pulled on that strap earlier.  I go back to the carseat from hell, and whoosh!  we're golden.  Straps loosen.  I swear the rain stopped, and a beam of light came down... angels were singing!!!  KP into the seat, harness down... we're ready.  Whew!  We throw the rest of the stuff into the car sheepishly, and then get the hell out of dodge.

Man, if this was the worst of it, we'd be alright..... ha ha!

So we drive, hybrid style, through the downpour home.  This gave me an excuse to drive extra slow.  KP was asleep through (of course, she couldn't hear the hybrid power!!!)  So we pull into the GreenMachine's carport and get out of the car.  We gather up our stuff, and the GC goes in first, to try to soothe the cooped up Ham, who coincidentally hates thunder and lightning!  He was pretty wound up.  I bring in the KP....  Hmmm, he's not interested... all he wants is Mommy and Daddy.  Whew, things might be good.

About an hour later, the KP chimes in.  Ham, who had just gotten calmed down, jumped up.  What the hell was that!?!?!?  he must have been thinking.  Where is that whining coming from?  Then he realizes that it's the KP.  And he is all up in her stuff.... sniffing... trying to lick...  We get the KP settled back down, and then Ham as well.  Then the thunder rolls in....  Ka-BLAMO!!!  Are you serious?!?!?  Ham goes ape-$@#^!!!  Whining, crying and barking!  Everywhere.  The GC and I look at each other... we knew... we're in for a long evening.

This went on the rest of the day and night.  KP cries... Ham cries... we get them settled... thunder rolls... Ham cries... we get him settled.... KP cries.... over and over and over and over and over...  By about 4am, I think we wanted to kill something.  We were frazzled and sleep deprived.  Will this night every end.  Fortunately around 6am it did....  Ham passed out from sheer exhaustion, exiting the aforementioned cycle.  This just left the GC and I to deal with the KP, who was on some sort of hourly trip.  Wow!

What a day!  What could happen next!?!?!

Daddy Changes His First Diaper

(This post was originally typed during the inpatient hospital stay.)

Yes, fellow BY followers… the moment you all have been waiting for:  Daddy's shot at glory!  Oh, boy did I not fail you!

So there we are on Day 1 of KP's existence.  We're all hanging around the room.  The GC (I'm going to have to find a new nickname), Daddy, KP, and surprise guest Grandpa Jamie (AKA Paw Paw).  We're basking in the glow of the KP Experience (which BTW is awesome… Day 1… slept all day!)  Then it happened!

A twist of KP's face… a little grunt… then a grimace followed by a sound that everyone probably has heard before.  Hmmm, she might've left us a present.  I jumped up… "Man, look at the time.  I think I have to take Jamie back to the airport."


By this time, Nurse Kathy had joined the hooligans.  The GC:" Nooooooooo"  with a sly smile.  "I think it's time for Daddy to change a diaper!" 

No!  Dammit!  Did she just…?  Yes she did… I was officially thrown under the bus.  In front of other witnesses no less (it was the only way she knew she could get away with it!).  Crap!

So I take my place at the bottom of the bassonet.  I gather the diaper and the wipies.  Yup.  I'm ready to go in!  I undo the burrito wrapping around the KP.  Then I see the enemy… Pampers!  I undo the left tab slowly, so not to arouse suspicion.  Then the right…  I hold my breath, and open the present!

Well, there it was.  Black, newborn baby poop!  Looks like damn tar.  Seemed the KP did 2 jobs: one which somehow bounced off the diaper and hit her right buttcheek, and the other one which didn't travel far after it left the barrel.   Ok… no prob.  I'll just wipe away the stuff.  I start a wiping…  damned poop wouldn't go away.  I mean this stuff was like seriously tarred on her behind.  There was no removing it.  Was this some kind of GC setup?  I dutifully wipe and wipe.  On and on.

But then the KP realizes that she's exposed, and getting wet and cold.  And damned if she didn't like it.  She starts crying.  Uh oh….  Time to move faster.  I wipe more furiously.  But each wipe seems to amplify the screams.  Really?!?!  Come on here girl!  I finally get most of the poop up, but one little speck was remaining on the cheek.  I should've left it behind… but I knew the GC was watching!  This tar is horrific.  I almost thought that I was going to remove some skin too.  KP at this point realizes that the screaming isn't working… so now the thrashing has begun.  Great!

Finally I get the speck off!  Whew!  I'm good to go.  Let's move to the next stage.  I get the new diaper, open it, and prepare.  I artistically (or at least I thought) grabbed both of KP's legs (ok maybe I had some help from Jamie) and then threw the diaper down on the crib.  Alright!  Now we're getting somewhere.  She's still wailing away… moving just enough to make the diaper attachment painful.  I struggle to get the right tab down…. Then the left… whew!  I'm good to go!!!! 

Now to check and see if it's good to go… I pick her up….. and it holds!!!!!  Yes!!!  I'm Super Dad!!!  I'm the man!!!  Damn that MD degree is the bomb!  Then I notice that the right tab probably needs to be repositioned…. So I put her back down and open up the diaper again…..  I grab the tab to reattach it… then ….. pee starts streaming everywhere!!!!  Oh, COME ON HERE!!!  WTF!?!?!?  Are you serious?!  Dammit!!!!  My fine work is ruined!  I glance over to the GC as a bead of sweat falls down my head.  She's smirking…. Damn that woman!!!

So KP's still wailing…. I open up the diaper again to try to clean her up…  more tar-poo!!!  Oh come on!!!  This is un-freaking-believable.  She seriously can't produce much more of that hideous stuff can she???  OH YES, SHE CAN!

I've just about had enough of this daddy hardening experience.  I grab another wipie and get this poo before it hardens on.  I clean her down.  Grab a new diaper, and throw it on.  I'm not giving KP any time to react.  Finally I get the tabs down and then roll her up into a burrito.  Then the wailing ceases… she falls back to sleep… all peaceful like.  Done, for now.

I need a drink.