The same happens in parenthood. We prepare like heck for the birth, by taking classes and decorating rooms – but what thought do we give to the life about to begin?

Alanis Morissette has a post at iVillage this week where she talks about how shockingly unprepared she was for parenthood (just like the rest of us).

No one told me about postpartum. And when they did, their shared recollections were semi-hazy and greatest hits-esque. They made the after-the-baby-is-born era sound somewhat idyllic, if they remembered it at all. So, as I was wont to do, I put their stories together, composite-style, into a fantasy that included bursting into blissful tears, buoyed by clouds and surrounded by cherub angels gushing how the lil’ one’s lips were his father’s and his deep contemplative gaze mine.

Cue record scratching sound.

Not the first time there were other parts, beyond the fantasy, that I hadn’t considered. I had used, as usual, the I’ll-rise-to-that-occasion-when-I-get-there approach to the post-child-bearing journey, so all my DVD-watching and focus went toward the birth experience itself, and how best to prepare myself for that (as though I really could prepare for a Human. Being. Coming. Out. Of. My. Body.).

Perhaps there was a method to my huge oversight, a necessary judiciousness exercised for the sake of not being overwhelmed during the big lead-up to this new role. So I found myself lying there, stunned, humbled, overcome, reduced…the final push serving as a portal that hurtled me, irrevocably into this new uncharted territory and state that I had yet to wrap my Oxytocin-riddled brain around.

You can read the rest of her entry here

I have a favorite book I like to recommend for new dads. Be Prepared focusses on what happens right after the baby is born. If mom is going to be all worried about having “a Human. Being. Coming. Out. Of. My. Body.” then the least Dad can do is Be Prepared for what comes next.

What was your experience like? Were you as unprepared as Alanis?

Read the rest at Man Of The House

I realized it when my wife and I were discussing ditching cable. She said it would be great to have at those times our baby won’t sleep and we have to be up with him/her. I told her I’d just play some games on our Wii while I get they baby to sleep…so I won’t need cable.

I guess I kind of thought you just pick the child up when it cries, it stops, you keep it close to you for a bit and then put it to sleep. You see the only experience I’ve had with a baby waking in the middle of the night happened less than a year ago when we had friends in town and I was left with baby.

When he woke up crying I totally freaked out and called Staci to ask her what to do. She told me to figure it out. I did…I grabbed him from his pack and play at a full arms length in case of wetness. When I realized we were all good there I put him on my lap and swiveled in a chair for a few minutes. Then we both fell asleep. It was a piece of cake.

Well, Staci let me know I was lucky…it wouldn’t be so easy…there would be no Wii playing while I have our baby on my chest. Instead there will be crying, pooing, peeing more peeing, bottle filling and more. From there something clicked in my head. Something that has not gone away. Something probably equally as wrong as my first impression. I turned a complete 180.

Right now I’m expecting the first couple months to be a M.A.S.H. style meatball surgery war zone. I now picture our child, due in January, as the king or queen of total chaos. I picture zero sleep, a bunch of crying, pets freaking out, me running around like a fool looking for bottles, diapers and the baby I misplaced.

Staci and I do have a plan for taking care of the baby. I go until 3 A.M. since I can go to sleep at any time but if I wake up a minute early I’m completely useless (fair warning to my employer.) We’ll also have a ton of bottles so misplacing all of them will be hard, but I like the challenge…I think I can lose them all. I misplace things like a pro. I also have a plan for having diapers on both floors of the house so they are always ready to go.

Still although we have plans for the things that I irrationally feel will happen I can’t shake the feeling that the first few months will be M.A.S.H.-like. Super crazy, emotional, scary yet pretty hilarious to the outside viewer. I’m hoping in the next three months I can get another idea of what it will be like stuck in my head. I don’t care if it’s wrong, I’d just like the anticipation to be of a little less chaos.

When it comes to reality tv, this concept is boring. Dads who would prefer to hang with their buddies and shirk their rookie responsibilities, however, could make some fun tv.

The Hollywood Reporter has details a new reality show, tentatively called “Dad Camp,” is being pitched and VH1 is listening.

“In a lot of ways, men aren’t what they used to be,” executive producer JD Roth said. “We’ve made it so easy for men to walk away from their responsibilities. These guys still want to hang with their buddies, and it’s time for them to man-up and take responsibility.”

VH1 programming head Jeff Olde said the series was inspired by President Obama’s call in June for fathers to “step up” and take responsibility for their children.

“Obama put that out there, and then 3Ball came in and pitched this,” Olde said. “There are real-world emotional stakes involved. It’s not about winning a prize.”
[THR]

This website is the home to DadCAMP, not Dad Camp. We’re a place for creative and modern parents. A place where Dads get together with other Dads and their kids. A place where you can hang with your buddies and your kids at the same time.

We believe that being a Dad isn’t some sort of life sentence, every day being a Dad is the best day ever.

Welcome to DadCAMP.

So you leave your partner with the child, throw on some sweats, and head to the store. You wander the aisles, checking off your list, humming along, and in your head you’re thinking to yourself, “Wow. It’s so nice to be doing something normal again.”

But in your heart all you want to do is race down to checkstand 3 and grab the microphone from the cashier and yell, “WHY ARE YOU PEOPLE ACTING SO NORMAL? CAN’T YOU SEE — I JUST HAD A BABY!”

You could swear it’s obvious, like there’s a big asterisk stamped right on your forehead. All your normal routine little things — things you used to do automatically, reflexively, suddenly have this grandiose context wrapped around them. It’s no longer “getting coffee”; now it’s “getting coffee/just had a baby”. “Paying the bills/just had a baby”.

Of course, nobody can see this asterisk – but that doesn’t mean it’s not real. And don’t worry, eventually it goes away. Well, actually, it doesn’t: instead that asterisk becomes the new normal, and you wonder how you ever managed to pay the bills without it there to keep you company.

Exactly what it feels like.

You reach down and see that fresh face looking back up and you have that “Holy Sh–, that’s my child, I’m a Dad” chill going all over your body.

Don’t fully understand what it feels like to be a dad? Check out this State Farm commercial that’s running right now.

Kudos to the actor for nailing it.

The wonder. The amazement. The love. The awe. The fear. It’s all there.

My #2 is due in January and I can’t wait to have that look on my face again.

Photo “Little Foot” by AdamSelwood on Flickr.

On the surface, Be Prepared: A Practical Handbook for New Dads, looks like any other kitschy book you’d give a parent to be. You know the kind, they appear as a thoughtful gift, but months later it’s still sitting on the shelf the spine perfect, the book never cracked once. That’s what this looks like – on the surface.

If you get this, or you’re giving it, you need to make sure the book is read. It’s written in guy’s language and explains exactly what’s going on, much like the What to Expect When You’re Expecting
and What to Expect the First Year books that she’s reading. Now when I say it’s from the guy’s perspective, it’s not written as if you’re a bumbling neanderthal that just wants to watch the game and will never change a diaper. It’s written from the perspective of someone who’s not pregnant and can’t fully appreciate all the changes that are happening to not only their partner, but life in general.

The book offers tips to entertain a toddler, how to properly photograph and video your toddler, how to cope with crying, and most importantly, it offers this sketch:

Yes, that’s what a newborn really looks like. Jeannie Hayden‘s art throughout Be Prepared: A Practical Handbook for New Dads is very clever and makes it an easy read and a mandatory resource for any first timer.

Which book got you through those first 40 nights?

Among many little joys and terrors, two things about the birth really stand out to me.

The first is the gift of being beside your partner as she undertakes an incredibly difficult and inspiring journey. You’ll see her experience physical and emotional stresses unlike anything either of you have experienced before. Just to watch, let alone participate as a birth partner, is wonderful.

Ruby’s birth was quick, intense and went fairly smoothly except for one complication: the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck. This was a dangerous situation; paramedics were called to the birth center as a precaution. Kate was giving birth naturally and drug free, and she was barely lucid from hyperventilation and the intensity of her pain. As things became more critical with Ruby’s condition, we had to make some important decisions about how the birth was to progress. We were about to go down a less-than-desirable course when Kate took matters into her own hands. She was exhausted and weak from labor, but she told us to wait. She gathered her energy, focused, and in three quick contractions Ruby was born. It was an incredible moment of determination and focus and resolve. In terms of scale, it was unlike anything I’d witnessed before. It was an honor to be there with her and watch her plumb the depths of her own strength.

The second gift is to be there when your child takes her first quick breath, tastes the sweaty, musty world we live in — and announces herself. I’m not much for metaphysical spirituality, but when I heard that noise, of Ruby telling us she had arrived, I lost touch with this world. I wept. For the duration of that cry, I floated in the sound. During those moments a piece of my soul was removed and placed into her, and I felt it happen. It was a moment of pure, sweet joy to match the intensity of everything we’d experienced in the preceeding hours.

You can’t have one gift without the other — they’re a matching set, with the intensity of labour setting you up for the sweet release of a new life. Be there, and you get them both.

To avoid any legal issues with David Letterman, here’s a Top 11 List of things I’ve discovered about life in the past week:

1. babies can hold their breath a really long time
2. everybody, deep down, means well
3. dirty diapers aren’t that dirty when your own son is the dirtier
4. the “miracle” part in the “miracle of life” is that women survive and want to do it again
5. sleep is a luxury, not a right
6. a baby’s vomit is the fastest way to stop an argument and bring peace
7. people who run around showing off pictures of their children aren’t crazy, the baby is their equivalent to the latest movie you saw or restaurant you ate at
8. babies have more outfits than Imelda Marcos had shoes because they need them
9. all you really need is 2 good hours
10. one smile erases a week of sleepless nights
11. 8 days old is a pretty cool age

This post was originally written on June 8, 2007.

The most frustrating part about being parents for Jen and I is not the lack of sleep, or the delicate fumbling while we try to bathe our son, or the stinky diapers – it’s the variety of information we receive on a daily basis.

From breast feeding nazis, to formula fiends, to schedule crazed bureaucrats, Jen and I have been driving ourselves nuts trying to be “the perfect parents.”

Jen has been having difficulty breast feeding, the whole 4 days in the hospital we had 6 nurses giving us 8 different ways to do things. Now that we’re home there are community nurses and lactation consultants offering even more ways to get it done.

Do we feed 8 times a day or when he’s hungry? Do we wake him up at night to feed on a schedule, or leave him be? Each person has a different answer. We are absolutely killing ourselves trying to keep to everyone else’s schedule.

We’re nervous about feeding. In the beginning he dropped over 9% of weight, that’s a little high of normal range, so we’ve been extra careful. We do a mix of breast feeding and pumped breast milk, but we don’t know how many mls a day he should get. We keep charts and notes and logs and every person we talk to gives us different advice.

We saw the doctor today who told us to chill out. He’s getting fed. He’s a big boy. He’s put all his birth weight back in a week, when it normally takes 2. Jen and I are going crazy for nothing.

We’re going to try and sleep tonight. We’re going to let Z tell us when he’s hungry instead of trying to anticipate the perfect timing for the perfect latch.

We’re good parents and we’re going to just keep doing our best, damn the rest.