Day 8 - 'Shot' through the heart...

"Oh Ellie."

**Inquisitive stare**

"Guess what day it is?"

**Blank stare**

"No, it's not 'Hump Day'.  Well it is 'Hump Day' but that's not what I'm talking about."

**Yawn**

"It's 'Shot Day'.  Sorry baby, but you've got to get your shots."

**Blinks**

"I know it stings but that's the way things are, Ellie."

 

Yes, that's correct.  Today was 'Shot Day' for Ellie as well as being her two month checkup.  And while that conversation, exhilarating as it might have been, didn't happen, I'm pretty sure that me apologizing to her on the way to the doctor's office did.  Poor baby; she honestly never saw it coming.  This was actually the first time I had taken Ellie to the doctor by myself which may have been a big coincidence or may have been a big mastermind plot by Bethany.  I'm more apt to believe the first option rather than the second, but the conspirator in me want to leave the second option open for debate.  

In all seriousness, I've come to the decision that taking your baby to the doctor's office is more traumatic for the parents than the baby.  I mean, until we actually went back to the examination room, all Ellie knew is that she was sitting in her car seat, sucking her pacifier, and listening to 'The Lion King' playing in the background.  In case you're wondering, it was the part where Mufasa dies during a wildebeest stampede.  I think that's a good thing to show kids while they're in the waiting room, right?  Get them all sad and stuff before they see the doctor?   Teaches them all about the circle of life?  

I'm not going to cry. Not going to cry. But it's just so sad!  WAHHHHH!!!

Once we headed back to the examination room, first on the agenda is disrobing the baby for measuring and weighing in.  I was pretty interested to know what exactly Ellie was weighing and what her length was these days but that was where my excitement for this appointment ended.  Coincidentally, that's where Ellie's patience for the appointment ended.  Being totally naked on a cold, plastic scale didn't appeal to her?  I really can't imagine why.  She even showed her displeasure for the scale in the only way, a combination of screaming and cleaning out her bladder.   All of this was probably not helped by the fact that she was hungry.  I learned my lesson though for the future.  Wake the baby up and feed her in advance of taking her to the doctor.  

After getting a new diaper, wrapped in a nice warm blanket, and lunch from our bottle, Ellie was moderately happy in Daddy's arms.  That would soon end as the doctor would return,  cold stethoscope in hand, for the exam.  Sorry Ellie, let me hold onto your blanket for you.  After that, I was permitted to dress Ellie but had to leave her legs free for the shots.  Three in one leg and two in the other.  Props to Ellie because she only screamed a little and really calmed down within five minutes.  I didn't realize how bad I would feel for her once I watched the needles go in and the specks of blood appear on her milky white legs once it was pulled out.  In all seriousness, our pediatrician is amazing and I am totally happy with the service and care they provide.  That being said, I'm not excited for round two of shots in November.  One good thing though.  'Shot Day' leads to lots of sleepy baby snuggles.  Not complaining about that at all.  

#DaddyWrite

Day 7 - She Hungers for the Dance

One definite thing that I've noticed about the stay-at-home dad business is that it can be very cyclical in nature.  Meaning at this stage of Ellie's life, it's pretty monotone at time.  Hence the blog.  We start craving that first feeding of the day sometime over the ten o'clock hour.  Then we play.  Then we get fussy because we get tired.  That process repeats itself again around the two o'clock hour.  Your basic rinse and repeat scenario.  This isn't a complaining, feel bad for me kind of story though.  Because I'm good at finding those little differences during the day and entertaining myself in creative fashions.  And isn't me being entertained the most important thing?  You know, except for Ellie's health and well-being.  

I've noticed that bottle time can often be a stressful experience for Ellie.  Especially when you consider that it seems to be a physical impossibility to have a bottle's nipple, her right hand, and her left hand all in her mouth at one time.  Not to mention the tongue that seemingly wants to find its way outside her mouth at the same time.  If I had any artistic ability whatsoever, I would draw you a picture.  But alas, I do not.  Sad day.  Anyway, Bethany has always spoken about the importance of skin-to-skin contact with Ellie for calming her.  I've been mildly doubtful about that since Ellie decided the thing to do was to latch onto my bare nipple in the middle of the night once.  All she got for her trouble was a lone chest hair stuck to her tongue and a loud shriek from a tired daddy.  

Due to her struggles and stress with the bottle, I decided to give the skin-to-skin thing another try.  I thought about making some kind of homemade shield to guard my nipples but all I could find was duct tape, and well, I wasn't brave enough for that.  So with great trepidation, I set out to give this thing a try to see how it worked out.  Shockingly enough, she loved it.  This definitely will not be a daily thing based upon the copious amounts of white-tinged drool on my chest but it's worth saving for when she's struggling.  

Since she was in a great mood after this, she was laid down on her blanket on the floor to engage in some play time.  As I saw her moving almost in rhythm, the wheels began turning in my head about how to have some fun.  One of my favorite comedies of all time is 'Night at the Roxbury.'  If you've never heard of it, it's based upon that old Saturday Night Live sketch where a pair of clubbers imply bob their heads back and forth to 'What is Love'.  The film is essentially 82 minutes of that.  As the soundtrack remains a road trip staple in the Holt household, I immediately set out upon recording the ultimate baby dance scene.  After twenty minutes of entertaining myself in this manner, I realized several things.

• ·         Babies have an inherent lack of rhythm (To be fair, so do I).
• ·         Ellie certainly loves music a ton to be willing to dance and jump around to it.
• ·         I am way too easily entertained.
• ·         And finally, tomorrow we should try 'Footloose'.

#DaddyWrite

Day 6 - **GASP**

This just in, Ellie has discovered her hands.  I repeat, Ellie has discovered her hands.  I mean she's known about them before.  They used to just be those things that flailed around uncontrollably when she got upset and scratched up her face.  They also were something to get in the way when trying to actually clothe her each day.  "No baby, stop putting both arms through the neck hole; they don't go there!"  Now she's finding joy in just using them to grasp stuff.  From her stuffed lion, Leon to her bottle at meal time to her own anatomy.  Nothing is safe from the tiny twin fists of Ellie the Grabber!  In case you're wondering, the answer is yes.  Yes, we actually gave Ellie's stuffed animal the name of Leon the lion.  Alliteration is fun for people of all ages.

Unfortunately there is a bad part to Ellie discovering her hands.  Her hands have spent more time inside her mouth than out of it. I'm actually beginning to wonder if she is on a mission to get one stuck inside there.  I find myself enjoying imagining  what the course of action will be if/when it does happen.  Is this something that I can take care of myself?  You know, grease it up with butter or something.  I'm pretty sure I've watched enough old TV to know that's what you use when the obnoxious kid from next door gets his head stuck in the staircase banister.  Does the pediatrician handle it?  I would think there's some kind of hand-in-mouth specialist that you have to go to.  I bet there's a special tool.  Probably kind of looks like a shoe horn.

Apparently having a hand in your mouth for six hours a day equals excessive drooling.  By noon each day, her drool marks on her shirt look like the sweat lines on Hans and Franz after a tough workout.  As a caring person, I try to go ahead and change her into some different clothes whenever it gets too bad.  The lone problem is that Ellie pretty much lives in long-sleeved onesies of which we have a limited supply.  She does have some of her own and we also inherited some from her cousin, Elbert.  There is one inherited onesie that we have never used because it was too much.  But when she finds herself on her third onesie of the day and I need to do laundry, there is only one recourse.  And she can't say I didn't warn her...  

**GASP**  Due to her excessive hand sucking, Ellie has become 'HANDSOME'.  That's right.  Our darling baby girl is 'HANDSOME'.  Oh, the horror.  The shock.  The dismay.  What about when she finds out about this as a teenager?  What will she do?  What will she say?  If she's like me, she'll find it absolutely hilarious.  If she's not, well then, she'll probably be mortified.  But I think mortifying my daughter probably is part of the dad job description.  And if not, I'll add it in.  #DaddyWrite

(Get it?  Hand?  Handsome?  I know, I know.  Such a terrible joke but I couldn't help myself)

Day 5 - Copy that

In order to celebrate Ellie and I's first week at home together without Mommy, we decided to go out and run some errands and have our first daddy-daughter date.  And by 'we', I mostly mean me and that I wanted to get out of the house for a while.  But that's ok, right?  Right!  In all seriousness, something that I've heard from a lot of wiser fathers than I (meaning gray hair is present), is that it's a really good thing for fathers to have occasional daddy-daughter dates together.  I know from what I've heard that the significance of these times together will increase as Ellie gets older.  If I take great lengths to make Ellie feel valued and special as she grows, then she will make certain that whatever guy she drags home for me to disapprove of will also make her feel valued and special.  That's a worthy cause for me spending time with my daughter.  Also, I'm sure that she will decide that we should go for ice cream on some of these hypothetical dates.

Anyway, Ellie and I headed to Rally House to pick up the birthday present for my dad that I ordered last week.  Of course, I'm never going to pass up to the opportunity to walk around Rally House.  If for any reason you're unenlightened, Rally House is the premier destination to buy gear representing your favorite sports team in the Kansas City Metro area.  I definitely always enjoy any excuse to run in there and seeing as how this was Ellie's first time there, we needed to at least commemorate the occasion by wandering around the store for ten minutes.  Her wide eyes taking in the beautiful sights of Royals blue, Chiefs red, Mizzou gold, and Northwest green.  All was well until we lumbered by the KU section and the fear and loathing (in Las Vegas?) set in at the sight of the Jayhawk visage.  In all truthfulness, my daughter is so intrigued by being in new places that she is perfectly happy being lugged around in her car seat for an indeterminate amount of time.

After leaving Rally House, I texted Bethany and asked if she would enjoy seeing Ellie for a few minutes at her office since Ellie was awake and in a fantastic mood.  One thing about carrying a cute baby into an office tower; no one asks questions.  I probably could have walked out of the building pushing an industrial copy machine and no one would have asked any questions because of the cute baby in a car seat riding on top.  Fitting it out of the door of the tower and loading it in the back of my RAV4 would have been the only issue.  

Oddly enough, this short trip to see Bethany at her office would serve to be the highlight of my day.  I know that my wife has had a rough week trying to adjust to being back at work.  Sleep deprivation, missing her baby, and work itself all play a role I'm certain.  Watching my wife peacefully hold Ellie, fast asleep in her arms, for a short twenty minute spell and seeing the huge smile on her face brought me an amount of joy that I've only really known since Ellie's been born.  I think that's a huge part of what being a dad is all about.  Seeing the two people that you love most in the world with so much joy and in such a state of peace is the most serene and enjoyable experience.  All of us should be so blessed to experience it at one moment or another.  And now that was really sappy.  I need to go do something manly now to compensate.  #DaddyWrite

So much work being accomplished here...

Day 4 - How to defuse a nuclear bomb

This has actually been the best day at "work" yet.  I have not been subjected to the repeated screaming fits of an unhappy baby.  Instead, I have been subjected to the repeated cooing of a pleased and happy baby while she plays on a quilt on the floor.  I definitely will not be complaining about that turn of fate.  Not only did Ellie play happily most of the morning, she even remained awake for close to three hours without a nap.  That's uber impressive based upon how things have been going.  I do, however, have a new observation regarding child rearing.  Or in this case the cleaning of one's rear. 

 

During the night last night, it was my turn to check on the baby around 4:00 am.  I got her roused out of bed and proceeded to rock her to try and calm the cries.  While getting yelled at by her, I then realized her diaper was nice and bloated.  For some reason, diaper changing is something that comes difficult to me on occasion.  Certain times it's like I'm tying my own shoe; other times it's like you're asking me defuse a nuclear bomb.  Do I cut the red wire?  Do I cut the blue wire?  Do I use the fruit juice?  Somebody help me!  It's especially perplexing as my wife has got this process down to a science.  She is the Las Vegas Blackjack dealer of diaper changers.  I think that's a good analogy, right?  Blindfolded, one arm tied behind her back?  She's got it.  I find it likely she could even rock it out using her feet at this point!

Anyway, as I removed the diaper precariously (as one is wont to do), I balled it up and tossed it away.  With great precision, I extracted the wet wipe from its airtight sealed packaging and initiated the cleaning process.  Now, for the trickiest part.  Replacing the faulty, soiled diaper with a new and pristine version.  Carefully lifting the baby, the new diaper is slid underneath her.  As I set Ellie down, her legs suddenly gain a life of their own and begin to dance all across the changing pad.  I could be exaggerating but I'm relatively certain that one of her legs achieved the process of spinning itself completely around where the foot was facing her rear.  Again, I must stress that I was sleep deprived, it was 4:00 am, and myths and legends can become fact.  After five minutes (literally), the deed was done and the installation was completed.  All it took to do so was holding my baby's legs with one arm and doing the changing one handed.  If a rodeo cowboy can ride a bull for eight seconds one handed, I should be able to change my daughter's diaper doing so as well, right?  

Little did I know that I had been dealing with a ticking clock.  As I sat down with Ellie in the rocker to peacefully guide her back to Slumbertown, I began to hear a gurgling coming from deep within.  Her face contorted from one of sheer relaxation to one of fierce determination.  And then the explosion.  That sound when the ketchup bottle is running on empty three times.  Back to back to back.  And then, silence.  The peaceful look returns to my daughter's face as she closes her eyes and sighs blissfully.  I then count my blessings that the diaper had not taken me six minutes to change.  Or else, there would have been a different kind of changing to do.

#DaddyWrite 

Day 3 - Just keep spinning, just keep spinning...

Another day added to my personal ledger of baby-care expertise.  I wouldn't say that it's growing exponentially, but I'm not nearly as incompetent as a few days ago.  That's a good thing, right?  

Walk Ellie, walk!

Ellie and I started the morning by going out and walking a couple of miles.  Since she was quiet and well, you know, not screaming, there was time to just watch her sleep and kind of wonder about the things that babies think/dream about.  Needless to say, I believe that list is pretty small and can probably be detailed as follows. 

• ·         Eating (Preferably from Mom instead of the bottle)
• ·         Her parents (Maybe I'll catch up to Mom as her favorite yet, #NoMoreMissingMommy)
• ·         Her swing/bouncy seat/exercise ball
• ·         The all-mighty pacifier!
• ·         Defecating/Urinating (I'll class it up by using fancy words)
• ·         Sleeping (It makes sense in my head for a baby to dream about sleeping)
 

BTW, if you've ever had a dream about sleeping, how trippy is that?  I had one a couple of weeks ago and I kind of wondered if Leonardo DiCaprio was trying to perform some kind of Inception.  Luckily, I don't see how anyone would pay him enough to plant an idea in my subconscious.  Another BTW, someone please let me know if the top stopped spinning.

In all seriousness, I did a lot of thinking about how having a child can really teach a person a ton about patience.  I've always felt like I have a large amount of patience and that it takes a lot to actually get underneath my skin.  That being said, in just shy of two months, Ellie has figured out how to press some of my buttons.  Through vomiting in my face, peeing/pooping during a change, not sleeping at nights, and just screaming at the top of her little lungs, she's really managed to rile me up from time to time.  It's definitely giving me a really good character building exercise.  

For those of you that may or may not read this blog, I am a believer in Christ and I'll definitely apply my process of child rearing back to that of a relationship with God at times without trying to be all preachy.  Anyway, today made me think about how the relationship between parent and child echoes that of God and us.  Whatever foolish decisions I make and however much I sin and disboey, God still shows His love for me on a daily basis and will not withhold it from me since I have a relationship with Him.  Likewise, no matter what Ellie does to tick me off and frustrate me, I'm not going to love her any less due to it.  She's my child, the only one I have, and her mom and I are happy to have her.  

And earplugs.  We're still happy to have earplugs.  #DaddyWrite

Day 2 - When I shout it out loud

So here we are, Day 2 of being a stay-at-home dad.  A part of me always thought that taking care of a baby during the day wouldn't be too bad of a gig.  That she would mostly just need to be changed, fed, and put to sleep.  You know, all of the normal stuff.  That's before the screaming set in...

It's kind of like that old bit from TV sitcoms where one person holds the baby and they're cooing and all that good stuff.  Then you pass it off to your buddy and the baby begins crying.  Back to the original person and baby is happy again.  The process is normally repeated a couple of times for comedic effect.  I think that you're probably following me now.  That's kind of been my life today.  

I woke Ellie up around nine to give her a bottle.  We made it through the bottle and then moved on to the burping.  All clear, doing well.  Now, it's time to snuggle, right?  WRONG!!!  Maybe you just need to be changed?  Ok, Daddy will change you.  Job done.  Snuggle?  Nope, scream.  Um, burp again?  Nope, scream.  At this point, I'm now scratching my chin working through my limited database of parental experience to figure out where to go next.  Eureka, I have it!  I'll bounce with her on the exercise ball.  Nope, scream.  

Ok, now for when it gets interesting.  I grab her little bouncy seat and almost instantly have a cooing, cute baby.  Everyone loves cooing, cute babies!  So, now that she's content, I hop off of the couch and sit down on the floor next to her and start patting her little hand.  Nope, scream.  Ok, ok.  I back away and hop back on the couch to a happy, cooing baby.  I understand Ellie; you can just stay in your bouncy seat until you get unhappy and then I'll put you in your swing to nap which is eventually accomplished.  

Noon rolls around and it's time to rouse the baby and let her eat again.  This time I've decided that I don't want to have to put her back in the swing because that's certainly a last resort.  I want to calm her on my own terms.  Needless to say, the process basically goes as before except for following time in the bouncy seat, I move her to her playmat.  She absolutely adores her time on the playmat until Daddy gets too close and then it's time to scream again.  After an hour and a half, Daddy finally blew the figurative final whistle on the game and returned Ellie to her swing where she now sleeps happily and I've made the decision to just let her sleep until she's ready to awake from her slumber.

Now I find myself trying to figure out several things...

1.       Does my baby hate me? - The answer seems to be 'Yes' or some form of 'Yes' in my head.

2.       How can I make the baby not hate me? - Still searching for an answer on that one.

3.       Is this a weird little phase? - I've decided on 'Likely' to 'Very Likely'

4.       Is it too late to invest in ear plugs? - 'No' and I actually already have them.

5.       Does it make me a bad dad if I choose to let her stay where she is happy? - That's the question that brings on struggling (Like the Jets during a certain halftime Joe Namath interview with Suzy Kolber).

Oh well, tomorrow's another day and Mommy will be home in about two hours!  Don't worry Ellie; I know that you're #MissingMommy and Daddy is most definitely not Mommy.  #DaddyWrite

Day 1 - It begins...

Hi, I'm Jesse.

This is Ellie. Cute huh?

Welcome to a little journey over the next year of my life (at least) where I'll be staying at home working to take care of her, make her happy, keep her alive, etc. First, a little backstory.  It was always important to my wife and I that one of us stay home and care for little Ellie once she was born.  After much discussion between the two of us, we decided that I should be the one to stay home with her for this time in her life due to a variety of factors.  Two of which being salary and job fulfillment.  Moderately important, right?

Today was Bethany's first day back at work which definitely has me feeling a large amount of emotions.  Nervous for the upcoming journey ahead.  Trepidation on how to raise a baby well.  Prayers for patience and understanding when she's dropping piercing screams into my ears.  You know, the usual.  In addition, this is the first time in my adult life that I haven't been employed after working in the same place for the past seven years.  This time will be useful for giving me some time to plan out the rest of my life.

So, you've found your way via the World Wide Web to #DaddyWrite and you're probably wondering exactly what you'll be reading each day.  The biggest thing that this provides me with is a daily (or nearly daily) outlet to create something.  I've always enjoyed writing, especially when doing so about my life, so I'll be telling stories from my days with Ellie from the POV of a new stay-at-home dad.  They will mostly be written although there's going to be the occasional video entries.  Some of these will be serious, others will likely be about the slightly traumatizing/humorous  experiences that I go though attempting to raise this little girl.  

So after all of that, let me be the first to welcome you to #DaddyWrite.  We'll definitely try to check in tomorrow morning and let you know exactly what my life is going to resemble on a daily basis.  This will also help to ensure that I'm not watching Netflix for nine hours a day.  Just the more manageable seven.  Peace!

BTW, I really wanted to call this blog #MissingMommy.  Apparently that's the name of a bereavement book for helping kids deal with the loss of their mother.  Not applicable in this case even if young Ellie is indeed #MissingMommy.