Baby Daddy 32: Two Weeks Notice

Holy shit, I'm a father. I am a legitimate Baby Daddy now. I am literally Big Papa. I have wanted to update this shit for two weeks. And do you know why I haven't? Because I am a goddamn father now.

I thought birth control would be to show middle school and high school students video of a vaginal and cesarean birth. I was wrong. Birth control is rooming in with a newborn and their parents for the first two weeks. What. The. Sweet. Fuck. If people knew what the first few weeks of having a baby entailed, the human race would have died out centuries ago. That's a lie. Patriarchal society would have forced humanity forward. When I told my grandfather this, he told me to be glad I'm not Catholic. I'm in an awkward situation, where so many of my thoughts and experiences are based in one liners. As such, I will share some of them:

My son is a badass. He was born strong and ripped to fuck. When he feeds, his belly gets big, and he looks like a 'roided out bodybuilder. I hate to say it, but I am jealous of my son's body composition. At least I can do shit like hold my head up.

My favorite experience was when my son sneezed for the first time. It was a snotty little sneeze. The look of shock, confusion, and fear was priceless. I could literally see him thinking, "What the shit was that?!" Of course, he didn't like it and immediately shook his fists in rage. On a side note, my son was born with a full head of hair, and a receding hairline. When he shakes a fist, he looks like that old guy that yells at kids to keep off his lawn.

In other news, any parent that acts like they got their shit together is lying. Their shit is blowing out their kid's ass, into a partially prepared diaper. The parents are just trying to dodge the pee. On a related note, my kid waterboarded himself with urine at the doctor's office. Welcome to Gitmo, son. Welcome to Gitmo.

I love my kid, but goddamn he's a crybaby. To be fair, he has had a hard two weeks. For the first week, he was tongue-tied and lip-tied. We snipped him at the one week mark, because it took that long for us to learn about the situation. So that automatically put him a week behind in feeding. Not only that, but I have to stretch his tongue and lip to make sure the tissue does not reattach. That's right, I get to finger my son's mouth, five times a day. Each time I do, I tell him that this is why he needs to avoid prison. Because nobody likes a forced fingering. I then finger his face and immediately apologize. I'm pretty sure my son thinks my name is Richard, or something short for it.

We circumcised the child last weekend. That's right. In the course of a week, he had his mouth cut twice and his peepee cut. If I were him, I'd be pissed and hate the world, too. On a positive note, my boy likes to sleep on my chest. He also likes to have explosive bowel movements in my hand. On a less positive note, I have a new metric for telling when I have not secured the diaper well enough.

On another note, I didn't sleep last night. That's a lie. I slept for 2-ish hours, and then took two or three additional power naps. That's also playing a part in the nature of this post.

It should also be noted that I did not have that "paternal instinct" with this child. While my wife wanted to be a mother, my desire for the kid was more of an intellectual curiousity. I love my wife and think she is great. I like myself and think I am not bad. I then decided I was curious to see what type of human we could produce, and what he/she would be like. So rather than having that, "I want to be a dad" thought, I had the "let's see what happens" thought. That's right, I signed up for an 18+ year experimant. It's like going to high school and deciding that you will earn a bachelor's degree, master's degree, PhD, and MD, in that order. I signed up for a mega commitment, and had zero fucking clues as to what I was investing in.

Moral of the Story: I will talk shit about my son. Love does not equal a free pass from calling him an asshole. And while my son may be an asshole, goddamn it I love him.

PS: I know the Russians are reading this, looking for a little bit of something to brighten their day. I assume that the weather is as grey as their clothes. Anywho, I couldn't talk too much shit about Russia in this post. Don't worry though, I got one for y'all soon.