The First Bath

A bath/shower can be a very relaxing thing. They’re good for washing the day away after a long day at work, or the meeting place for a glass of wine & a good book. I know I have solved world hunger, balanced the trillion dollar deficit that is America’s checkbook, and all of us do our best singing in between shampooing & conditioning. But my child? Not so much. He has yet to discover the joys of being clean. Whether changing a diaper, or changing his clothes, when that cold air hits him, Cameron screams like Fantasia in a half-filled stadium. His first bath was comical, let’s discuss…..

The plan was to have him fed, changed & washed before the Bears lost because that’s what they do lately. I had 2 wash cloths, the baby body wash/shampoo, & the soothing lotion that calms & helps your baby sleep. Johnson & Johnson is getting all of my money.  The pajamas came off with no problem but once the diaper was removed, the fun began. Some lukewarm water rinsed gently on his scalp to ease him into what was about to happen. Cam’s eyes got wide as we eased him into about 1 inch of water. Those stubby little legs stretched & kicked while those little lungs screamed bloody murder. So much for my son having a glass of wine while reading The Cat In The Hat.

Someone Was Mad

Wrapped in a towel that was 4 sizes too big, we decided not to put clothes on him right away. His 1^st bath was such an experience that we allowed him to catch his breath before dressing the little guy but the look on his face as he pondered what just happened and How he could convince us to not let it happen again was priceless. Of course,  until the next bath.

 

Until next time…Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas!

 Merry Christmas to ya'll from us

Son....You Are Not R. Kelly

Ahhh yes, the diaper change.  That small piece of fabric that is attached to your child that is “supposed” to catch the end result of the formula & breast milk he previously consumed. There are many factors that go along with the diaper change as I quickly realized. Lets begin:

I diapered (I think that’s a word) my 1^st kid during a parenting class. It was a doll. The doll didn’t move, didn’t scream, just laid there as I practiced putting on & taking off the diaper. Easy enough right? Wrong. Dead wrong. It all starts with the “boo boo face”. That face he makes when  he’s doing his business right in your lap and you just have to wait until it’s over. Once the forehead lines disappear and the face relaxes, the eyes get wide like “oh no, Dad is about to change me! Not that,  please anything but that.” The walk to the bedroom for him is like a death row inmate headed to the electric chair. If he would have just gone to the toilet like a normal person we wouldn’t have these problems, but Cameron is only 2 weeks, so I digress.

The Boo Boo Face

I like to work left to right & there’s a method to my madness. Wipes, clean diaper, Vaseline, plastic bag for the dirty diaper. I lay him on a towel and thus begins…..”The Staredown”. We stare at each with sort of a Clint Eastwood “Go ahead, make my day” approach, and his brown eyes appear to say “Ok dad, let’s talk about this, if you don’t change me now, I’ll only poop when Mom has me.” Sidenote: I considered it. Remove the t-shirt, undo the diaper & we’re off! Now I know I have to work with the speed & precision of a Daytona 500 pit crew changing tires. My son is wet, cold, & naked and this diaper smells like he’s fought traffic to & from work and had a hard day in between…..and then it happened. 

The Staredown

HE PEED ON ME! Short warm bursts, but still. I was involuntarily urinated on. What did I do to deserve this? I pay my taxes, I obey all traffic lights, I only marginally embellish on my resume. Why me? I looked at my sweet , innocent, beige child and said “Son, you are not R. Kelly.” You just can’t pee on people when you’re mad. And I can’t return the favor because there’s laws against that sort of thing. Again, I digress. New diaper applied, pacifier inserted. And how does he thank me? Keeping us awake until 315 am. Well played my boy, well played. *Slow claps*

Until next time…..

The Calm aka 315am

How Long Are We Gonna Be Here?

So what do you get someone who is picky & you think gift cards are impersonal? That’s right, you get him a baby. My day started at 3:30am on Monday December 5, 2016. Not only was it my 32^nd birthday, but I also would meet the little guy who has been moon walking on his mother’s bladder. The song of choice was “PSA” by Jay-Z (what else did you expect other than Michael Jackson) as we drove to Palos Community Hospital, mostly  in silence, trying to digest how our lives would never be the same. 

5:00 am – let the inducing begin! 

6:00 am - Monitors, epidurals, long needles, oxygen masks, visitors, broken sleep, pain (Can you please stop squeezing my hand so hard?!?)

1:30 pm – The hospital is no place to get well, get rest, or get quality food.  What exactly is an angus burger?

4:30pm – YOU ARE NOT THE FATHER! No, not me. We were watching Maury. Do you think you’d be reading this if I wasn’t the father?

7:15 pm – Doctor: “It’ll be any minute now”. Right, this kid gonna show up fashionably late. 

10:20 pm – “Ok, we’re gonna perform a C-section”. This is the moment of truth, the minute right before they announce the lottery numbers & you know you have the winning ticket. The nurse handed me scrubs and booties. I’ve seen enough episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, just hand me a 10 blade & some gauze and I’m going in. But no, I have to be properly dressed in the emergency room while surgery is performed.  Soooooooooo,  you’re telling me I can’t make an incision? Ok, fine. Have it your way. The curtain is up, shielding us from the surgery being performed. I’m responsible for everything from the waist up. My leg shakes nervously, my glasses get a little foggy, Tam & I are having random conversation trying to keep calm…..but then…..

10:48pm – Doctor: “Baby’s Out”

                 *silence, silence…..more silence*

                 *Baby Cries*

    Me (while crying): "that's right son, give em hell. let em know you're here"

                 Doctor: Time?

    Nurse: 10:49 pm

10:49pm – Cameron Jacob Hickey was born on December 5, 2016. 6 lbs 9oz. 20 inches long. He looked like an alien, with hair matted to his head, and very light skinned. The nurses ran him through the baby car wash, cleaned & warmed him up, handed him to me……and my son, only in this world for about 7 minutes, gave me the finger. Was it intentional? Probably. But those fingers and toes were wiggling, and he waved the middle finger flag. Well played son, welcome to Earth. And as I held him, examined him, thought about old baby pictures of me, there was only one thought that came to mind. Damn, he looks like me.

 So…..I’m a dad. A father. I have a fiduciary responsibility to the health & well-being of another individual, who for right now, can’t even tell me what he wants & sleeps 18-20 hours per day. When people say “oh, your son was born on your birthday!” I respond, “No, I became a father on his. “

Until next time……

Welcome

Greetings All!

My name is Jordan & this is the introductory post for my new blog entitled “Damn, He Looks Like Me: Chronicles of a 1^st Time Father”. I invite you join me on this journey called Fatherhood. Sit back, grab an alcoholic beverage (or a sparkling water if you’re reading this during business hours) and Enjoy!