Let’s try something new today.
I know I spend a lot of time on this blog talking shit about how having a baby is going to destroy my life. One week in and it turns out I am freaking Nostradamus: all of my fears are already coming true! No sleep, no sex, no social life. Blah blah blah. And it’s only going to get worse.
But there are some things I am looking forward to, and a lot of things I didn’t expect. Good things.
At the risk of getting all soft and sentimental, I’m going to share the most amazing and unexpected part of being a new dad. No, it’s not how much I already love him, or how little I care about being woken up when he cries, or how inexplicably colorful his crap is. It’s something even crazier.
But you’ll have to wait until after the jump to find out…
Listen up: it’s time to get educated.
I’ve been a proud papa for just under a week now and I’ve already learned a few things about babies. A few valuable things that I think might come in handy for those of you out there who are considering purchasing a new child. Trust me, dealing with an infant is no easy task, but with the insights I’ve gleaned – and will continue to glean as I mold my son into the Greatest Of All Time – I can help make things just a little bit easier for new parents.
Coming up after the jump, my top five insights into about babies and how they work. Here’s a quick tease to whet your appetite: Babies smell like Cheerios. Or feces. Depends on what time it is.
Also, as a bonus to my loyal readers, I’ve included a picture of my son at the bottom of the post!
Kid’s not even born and he already has a lot to answer for.
I am not a religious man. I certainly don’t believe that a literal Adam and a literal Eve were chilling in a literal garden when a literal snake offered them literal fruit from the literal Tree of Knowledge.
But after sitting vigil during my wife’s labor and delivery, I am coming around to the idea of Original Sin.
Today is my birthday.
But, despite all the doctors and their fancy prognostication machines, it doesn’t look like it will be my son’s.
Originally, when MomandBuried and I learned our son’s due date – which is today, by the way – I wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of sharing my birthday with my kid. It’s not that I care about my birthday, really – it’s nice to have it recognized, especially by my wife (she’s the best gift-giver of all time) – but I’m not one to make it a big deal. It just seemed a bit weird to suddenly start sharing it with someone more important than me, especially in the midst of an already log-jammed September (football season, my birthday, our anniversary, grandparents’ day, etc.).
As the date approached, however, I warmed up to the idea. It might be fun to celebrate together, especially when he hits 21, right? Like Garfield would say: PARDY HARDY!
Now, not only will my son and I be unable to bond over our birthdays – though we are still likely to share the same astrological sign (two Virgos under the same roof = LOOK OUT, HONEY!) – my wife and I are forced to wait…and wait…and wait for the little blob to grace us with his presence. And who knows when that will be. Right now, it’s even odds that he’ll land on either my anniversary, my brother’s birthday or – hopehope – Dan Marino’s birthday!
Which is only fitting, as he’ll be festooned in Dolphins regalia from day one anyways. Which leads me to the real cause for celebration on this day = NFL season kicks off. Thank God football is finally here to take my mind off of the delayed arrival of the Rest of My Life. One more baby-free weekend of booze, burgers and beating the Bills.
Hopefully by Week 2 I’ll have a newborn baby to spike every time Miami intercepts one of that a-hole Favre’s passes.
That’ll be one bruised-up baby.