Last night was one of those nights that the little man did not want to go to sleep. He was in one of those moods that he was unhappy when I put him on his back, and he just wanted to be held. Oh, and he wanted to be bounced.
So for a while last night I was walking around the house and bouncing a baby. I was quietly singing good bouncing songs to him (like "Bad Touch" by the Bloodhound Gang) to keep the rhythm. It's probably not the best bedtime song, I know... but it worked at the time.
I could only take so much bouncing. I decided that a drive would be good to calm him down, and we needed to gas for the Volvo.
Now just like any road trip I take, my body immediately says "I have to pee" before I get in the car. I think it's a conditioned response from when I was little. Mom would always ask my sister and I, "If you have to go to the bathroom, go now."
So there was my dilemma... if I put the kid down he started crying. If I stopped bouncing he started crying. I had to pee.
Next thing I knew, I was standing in front of the toilet, holding a baby, bouncing, singing "Bad Touch," and peeing.
It was another one of those moments when you think to yourself... "what the hell am I doing?"
The drive put him to sleep, and I finally found a gas station that was open at 11:00 on a Sunday night.
Last night, while Tiff and I were in the kitchen, I looked over at the baby, back at Tiff, and back to the baby...
"Holy Crap... we have a kid."
I'll admit that it wasn't one of my more brilliant moments.
I also admit that I know he's already almost 3 months old, give or take. I know that: we've had pictures made of him; have a blog about him; I saw him pop out of my wife (kinda); we've dropped him off and picked him up at daycare; PAYED for daycare; taken him to the E.R. at midnight; and have a lot of nicknames for him.
I know that.
But standing there in the kitchen watching Tiff wash bottles while he was on the floor blowing snot bubbles (which is hilarious, by the way) was really one of those weird times when the baby thing sunk in. I'm not sure why.
As a side note, you'll all see the photos once the family get their copies.
I'm a planner. Anyone that knows me well will agree. Over the past 10 weeks, however, I've learned that you can think through all possible scenarios but you will never get close to what life can throw your way. I had done all my research about the stages of labor and when we needed to go to the hospital. Little did I know. There is only around a 12% chance that you will deliver due to your water breaking. My Ob/Gyn was very thorough in my last appointment, mentioned the possibility, and warned me to cover any seat that I didn't want ruined with a towel. Knowing the statistics, I have to admit, I scoffed. "Won't happen to me." I was especially adamant that I was going to deliver before my due date (which most people disagreed with seeing how small I was), but I really thought we had another week. A.D. had other plans. My water broke at 12 A.M. on 8/4/08. Guess 12% really isn't so small. During my pregnancy, I had debated back and forth on using formula or whether we would give breastfeeding a try. I am generally a pretty open-minded person and being in the medical field, I knew the benefits of breastfeeding. I was also aware of how physically and mentally draining it could be when you are the sole person feeding an infant (especially at night) at least for the first few weeks until you could start pumping. I decided, after attending a breastfeeding class, that we would give it a go in the hospital if it came easily. People love telling you their horror stories, especially breastfeeding ones. I figured we had maybe a 25% possibility that we would be breastfeeding when we left the hospital. I was again thinking that with such a low number, I would only brush up on what I needed to know for the first few days. Life likes to show you who is really in control sometimes, and we officially have a breastfed baby. When I graduated from MUSC, we debated staying in Charleston, moving closer to family, or just picking a place on the map. Logic won out (higher pay and much, much lower cost of living), and we moved to Upstate SC and now live just 1/2 a mile from my parents. Our biggest concern was only knowing family since many of my friends had moved to other states after high school/college. If you would have asked me a couple years ago, I never would have thought we would be within walking distance to my parents or that I would live back in the Upstate at all. I didn't know what a blessing this has become. My parents visit more often now that we have A.D. around, but generally we are probably a bigger nuisance to them than they have ever been to us. We like being able to borrow lawn equipment, obtain the random ingredient we forgot at the grocery store for dinner, and take dips in their pool. We never would have considered some of the phone calls we have thrown their way. "Hey, Dad. Is there anyway you can go close up the house and garage," I queried as I rushed Tim to the hospital to stitch up his hand that was profusely bleeding due to a garage accident. "Hey, Dad. Is there anyway you can take me to the eye doctor," I asked as I experienced during pregnancy my first aura prior to a migraine that left me seeing spots. A side note, Tim was recovering from surgery that day to repair the damage from the garage accident which is why I didn't call him first. "Hey, Dad. Is there anyway you can come pick up A.D. and keep him for the rest of the night?" This call came last night around 2:30 A.M. when Tim and I realized that we had food poisoning and would definitely not be fit parents anytime soon. My Dad has the bad habit of being the person to pick up the phone, but both of my parents have been there during times I never would have imagined I would find myself. Who could foretell food poisoning? A stomach bug where one person isn't functional, yes, but not food poisoning. I have a new appreciation of my parents even though I've been reassured many times that they are happy to help out. And none of this lessens the fact that we could call any number of our friends if we needed help, but it is a little easier to rouse your parents at 2:30 A.M. --Tiff
Since Tim has been so busy the past few weeks, I thought I would write my first post and give everyone a quick update. So here goes... Last weekend we traveled to Hickory for Lenior-Rhyne's Homecoming and was able to introduce A.D. to all of our college friends. Tim even tried to introduce A.D. to the L-R Bear...
I also went back to work last week but only worked half days. I found it was much easier to ease back into things when Tim and Kristin were babysitting. This week I went back to work full days Monday, Tuesday, and Friday, and A.D. started daycare. I was very proud of myself that I didn't cry and only called once (just don't ask how many times I talked myself out of calling). Daycare has been a new experience though. A.D. woke up Wednesday morning with a cold and that broke my heart. You know they are going to get sick at some point but I wasn't ready for it quite this early. Especially since this morning we had to go for his two month check-up and vaccines. He has now reached the 66th percentile for length and gained two pounds weighing in at a whopping 9 lbs 8.8 oz. Sorry to all that this post wasn't as funny as Tim's normally are...we definitely know who is the more boring half ;) Tiff