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Oh, let me backtrack: I might not have been SAD, but I definitely CRIED like a baby because that's my thing. Any time my kids do something great, I cry because I'm so insanely proud of everything the two of them do I can't help myself. Hell, I tear up when they're one of 15 kids doing some shitty rendition of some awful song on the recorder; I even cry waiting for the city bus when I read the great things the teachers say on their damn report cards.

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I was sad the first day of elementary and middle school.

This year I was full of pride... and dread since my daughter is taking Trig this year and my math skill is pretty shit these days.

Not looking forward to the weekends where I have to help with homework.

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Yeah, our little miss aka my boo's granddaughter is under the weather this morning.  She's running a slight fever.

I have a slight scratchy throat this morning, so I know I won't be allowed around the kid until I fight off this bug.

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19 minutes ago, Matt D said:

Everyone seems mostly ok this morning. Took a couple of days but fevers broke and no babies showed up, so we're still waiting.

Good deal.

Keep us posted, man.

Happy wife = Happy life, so make sure mom to be is comfortable.

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  • 2 weeks later...

9 days old. I think I can put this period of time into three distinct periods.

"A shower before bed would be nice"

"...Have I showered today?"

"...When was the last time I showered?"

Dealing with the bizarre sleep patterns and incessant crying far better than I ever anticipated. Extended family constantly with their hand out, unsolicited opinions/advice or salty about a social media/digital images ban genuinely inspire me to consider faking our own deaths.

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On 6/23/2017 at 3:03 PM, Robert C said:

Wonder how many things I did as a kid would get parents arrested today.  Driving a ski boat by myself at 12, pulling a skier who was also 12 comes to mind.

Well, we could start with playing "Knights & Vikings" with wooden "swords" made from 2 x 2s and metal garbage can lids for shields and just beating the crap out of each other. Surprisingly, there was only one broken bone during the three or four years that this was popular and that was a kid tripping over his shoelace and breaking his wrist hitting the pavement. 

Oh, yeah... Playing "war" with CO2 pistols that shot these nasty little darts. These were also useful for shooting the rats that infested the vacant lot on the next block ('course it could take as many as six darts to make a  kill , those damn things are tough). Bottle rocket wars were also a grand old time (use a two-foot section garden hose as your hand-launcher and you've got pin-point accuracy!) 

I expect that the rope-swing that went over the railroad tracks would be frowned on today as well... Kids these days have no idea what they're missing out on. ;-)

And yes, I still own a set of lawn darts!

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6 hours ago, RolandTHTG said:

9 days old. I think I can put this period of time into three distinct periods.

"A shower before bed would be nice"

"...Have I showered today?"

"...When was the last time I showered?"

Dealing with the bizarre sleep patterns and incessant crying far better than I ever anticipated. Extended family constantly with their hand out, unsolicited opinions/advice or salty about a social media/digital images ban genuinely inspire me to consider faking our own deaths.

Five days in here. Our biggest boon (and probably biggest drawback) is that everyone is at least 3 hours away. In a real pinch, I'd probably be quicker to ask Mark for help than any actual relative. My parents would love to come from Boston but we're in way too tenuous a period for breastfeeding and other things for that. They'll come when we're ready. No one else in either family will probably see the baby until Thanksgiving at the earliest (and we may skip that this year). Fuck all of that. We had to deal with our baby getting lasered this week. 

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I am a good father because I lost one hour and forty minutes of my life to take my daughter to a packed showing of the My Little Pony movie, and I didn't go all Aurora on the theatre. 

My kid is now napping, so I'm gonna watch my Onita vs. Mr. Pogo comp tape to even out my universe. 

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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 3 weeks later...
On ‎10‎/‎21‎/‎2017 at 9:48 AM, Neil Koch said:

I am now a daddy.

Damn those first few poopy diapers are gross.

Baby formula and mother's milk diapers ain't shit.

Just wait until the baby food days start up. 

The strained peas and carrots diapers nearly fucking killed me.

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4 minutes ago, J.T. said:

Baby formula and mother's milk diapers ain't shit.

Just wait until the baby food days start up. 

The strained peas and carrots diapers nearly fucking killed me.

@J.T. knows of what he speaks. Even with breastfed babies, the poop settles down within a month or so. The food mess, both coming in and going out, is way worse.

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  • 2 weeks later...

I had one of the most not-fun experiences of fatherhood yesterday, having to tell my two girls that our cat died. He'd gotten attacked by my in-laws dog the night before, seemingly at random, because they'd been together for almost a week and never had any problems. But, out of nowhere he just charged him in the bushes got his teeth in and wouldn't get let go. My older one is OK, but my little one was beside herself crying that she wanted him to come back.

 

The wife and I talked about it, and decided that we might get another one later on, after our current dog goes. He's very pet aggressive except for my in-law's dogs and the cat, all of whom he'd been around since he was a puppy. 

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  • 2 weeks later...
On ‎11‎/‎7‎/‎2017 at 7:13 AM, Red is Dead said:

wait until it comes flying out of both ends at the same time...

My daughter and I laugh about it now, but one of the most traumatic experiences I've ever had as a father was when my kid was about six years old and she started complaining about stomach pains while we were on the way to my ex's house. 

Serendipity got us to the bathroom at Truckstops of America just in time.  Poor thing sat on the toilet with a trash can in front of her for about ten minutes spraying from both ends. 

I remember feeling horrible and helpless and still marveling at the fact that the human digestive tract was capable of reversing and forwarding gears at the same time.

That was one of those events that reinforced my faith in a divine and benevolent cosmic being.  He gave me the presence of mind and enough time to get to someplace that had huge restroom with an unoccupied stall as well as a shower so that I could get my kid cleaned off and into a new set of clothes before getting her back to her mom's.

I found out later that she had contracted some sort of stomach bug over the weekend.  Probably from playing in the kid's recreation areas I totally fucking hate in the mall where we usually went to get out of the apartment, but in a moment of weakness I caved into demands and let her go romp around since she had a good report card.

Never let your small child play in one of those tot lots.  They are fucking petri dishes posing as playgrounds.

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Post milk puke is the worst.  My daughter got sick last January (so she was a few months shy of 2).  "What's wrong, baby?  You're kinda droopy.  Not feeling too good?  Here, come have a bottle and sit on my lap for a bit."  A few minutes later, she vomits, Exorcist style, all over herself and me.  God damn.  Smelled like sour milk left out in the hot sun.

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We called it the cottage cheese effect.

Glass of warm milk in the morning. just before nursery. 

*Daddy, i dont feel great, I'm tired*

*I'm sure you're okay honey, its fine, you'll have breakfast at nursery and you'll be right*

*But daddy my tummy feels weAAAAAAAAAAARUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHird*

It was wonderful how she decided to re-decorate the inside of my car...

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8 hours ago, Technico Support said:

Post milk puke is the worst.  My daughter got sick last January (so she was a few months shy of 2).  "What's wrong, baby?  You're kinda droopy.  Not feeling too good?  Here, come have a bottle and sit on my lap for a bit."  A few minutes later, she vomits, Exorcist style, all over herself and me.  God damn.  Smelled like sour milk left out in the hot sun.

It is the sworn duty of every proper father to be the designated target of projectile vomiting.

50 minutes ago, Mike Campbell said:

My youngest was terrible with spitting up after nursing/bottle. After a few rounds, none of my wife's family would hold her after she ate.

The greatest invention behind the wheel is probably the burping cloth.  I have saved myself many a dollar in potential dry cleaning bills simply by taking the time to toss a burping cloth over my shoulder when I held my daughter after a feeding.

Burping cloths are slightly misnamed, but no one would buy them if they were called milk puke cloths.

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2 hours ago, J.T. said:

It is the sworn duty of every proper father to be the designated target of projectile vomiting.

The greatest invention behind the wheel is probably the burping cloth.  I have saved myself many a dollar in potential dry cleaning bills simply by taking the time to toss a burping cloth over my shoulder when I held my daughter after a feeding.

Burping cloths are slightly misnamed, but no one would buy them if they were called milk puke cloths.

I always made sure to have a burp cloth, dishrag, or a cloth diaper over my shoulder at all times. And, because my older was very clingy to her mother, I was usually the one dealing with the baby.  My sister in law had a damn near meltdown when she got spit up on, because it was her favorite Avenged Sevenfold T-shirt. The wife and I were both like "You're mad at your five month old niece for spitting up?"

 

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