The Rookie Dad

As we all know, I have Owen while my wife works and my wife has Owen when I work at least four days a week. Some of these apply to me and him as a duo, some apply to our family in general.

Food:

Nearly half of my meals are eaten in the car in a hurry.

I have learned how to eat with my left hand. Jaime Lannister feels my pain.

The other half of my meals are eaten while sitting on the floor dodging a child who is trying to bite me.

“Puffs” have become a regular part of my diet.

No matter how often I try squash, I hate it. 

He will eat any baby food, no matter how gross it looks. That’s amazing.

Sleep:

Carrying a sleeping child from a car seat to a crib is the less dangerous equivalent to walking through a mine field of broken glass.

When Owen is in bed, I often go pee outside so I don’t risk flushing the toilet and waking him up. 

It took me 9 months, but I don’t freak out every time I hear him make a noise on his baby monitor. 

No matter what, the dog will never understand that the baby is sleeping and not to bark.

Owen will only sleep when you are wide awake and refuse to take a nap when you are dead tired. 

You see those cute pictures of a baby sleeping on top of a parent while they play video games? That is all bullshit. Never works like that in the real world. 

Lifestyle:

I never imagined that I would have this many random toys in the back seat of my car.

I want to buy him a toy when he is good in a store or mall, but he is only ten months old so I buy myself something instead for being a good parent. 

No matter how busy, tough, or cranky you are, if a child hands you a toy phone, you answer it. 

He doesn’t want to see the replay of that “bad ass knockout” yet, no matter how hard you try to get him to care. 

Working out is impossible when you two are alone unless he is asleep, or willing to play in his exersaucer.

I absolutely cannot use the restroom without making sure he is situated somewhere safely. Same with a shower. 

I now watch my TV shows in 10 minute increments. It has taken me six months to finish season 2 of Battlestar Galactica.

I sometimes I pretend I am an alchemist when I get his bottles ready. 

He hates being in his crib when he is sleeping, loves being in it when he is awake. Is this a sick joke?