Talk of poop will fill conversation with your wife. Catching up at the end of the day will be about the baby’s crap. You’ll get home and hug and kiss. You’ll ask about each other’s day. Each other’s day will involve stories of crap.
They’ll seem natural at first, but after a few months you’ll come to the realization that you talk about poop more than you ever thought you would.
Also, don’t ever get comfortable with the idea of poop always being in a diaper. It will be everywhere. You’re going to want to start adjusting to the idea of having it all over your hands, clothes and face. Yes, face. I don’t know how it gets there. Science doesn’t know how it gets there. It just gets there. And the stupidest part is that you may not even know it. It defies all logic but you didn’t have logic, you had a baby.
THE FIRST NIGHT
You’re going to be exhausted. You’ve been in that hospital for three days or more, sleeping on that torture rack that somehow got an Underwriter’s Laboratory stamp of approval. Your wife will probably be tired, too. You finally get the kid to bed and you collapse in your own. It’s comfortable. It envelopes you in the crevice of the mattress you’ve spent years developing. You know you’ve only got a few hours before the baby monitor goes off and wakes you both but you’re not worried about drifting off into a dream world free of nurses and beeping machines. It will happen quickly.
Then you think, how does my child know how to breathe? Nobody taught them. You probably explained how a car works to them on the drive home but you never covered breathing. They had people watching the kid at the hospital, maybe they taught the kid.
You’re no longer sleepy. Now you’re wide-awake listening to the baby monitor that you now realize is not loud enough to pick up breathing. Unless the kid stopped breathing. You’ll tell yourself you’re being stupid but you’ll end up checking the kid several times just to confirm that, yes, you are stupid.
Every time you go in, the child is sleeping like a baby. You’re just getting more exhausted. This is perfectly normal, but still stupid.
SLEEPING LIKE A BABY
Just a quick note on sleeping like a baby. Babies don’t sleep very well. The phrase is the most ass-backward idiom ever. But, now that you have a baby you’ll know that when someone tells you they slept like a baby what they really mean is that they woke up every hour or so, drooled and crapped themselves with regular frequency. And they absolutely wet their pants.
DIAPERS
You’re going to have the change diapers. Why? Because it’s not 1955. Do you really want to be the villain in a Lifetime movie? And I’m talking one of the abusive spouse ones not the other kind they do where someone has cancer. Of course you don’t. The fact that you bought this book is proof enough that you intend to be a good father. Of course, if it was given as a gift, someone might be trying to tell you something. So pay attention.
Diapers are a part of being a decent parent. This is your child. You share the responsibility for their existence and therefore their well-being and ass management. It’s what you signed on for that romantic evening ten long months ago when you said to your wife, “The drug store’s probably closed right now, I’ll just pull out.” You are simply going to have to help with the diapers.
Here’s what you don’t know; you don’t want to get out of doing the diapers. That makes me sound stupid, but I know something you don’t. Diapers are currency. They’re like little turd-filled tickets at Chuck E Cheese—the more you collect, the more you get.
Every one you change is a night out later on. Every time you jump in without her asking is her bragging on you to her friends. Change enough and you can earn a new purchase that’s just for you.
Diapers are worth their weight in guilt. That’s why you want to get in there before she does. You don’t want her collecting all that guilt. You already owe her for carrying your child. I’m telling you, change the diapers and collect the points. This is a game you want to win.
And here’s how you cheat: All diapers are not loaded equally. The bigger the mess the more guilt you collect. If it’s more ripe, it’s rare and worth more. Some will be leaky. Some will remind you of a water balloon. And then there are some that are barely a fart mark in an otherwise pleasant smelling scented diaper. These are worth next to nothing. Here are the words you need to learn in order to get the most out of every diaper, “Don’t get up, Honey.” Compassionate? Yes. But if she doesn’t get up, she’s also not going to see that almost every diaper you change is but a skid mark. Now you just need to act like each one is an abomination of nature with the odorous capacity to strip the paint from your walls.
I recommend fake gagging a lot. If you can hold your breath until you turn blue it’s even better. Hold each “loaded” diaper at a distance. She’ll thank you and you earn the guilt to cash in at a later time. Unless you’re a totally terrible actor, it can’t miss. It’s like stuffing bills under the board while playing Monopoly.
Girls’ diapers are easy to change. Undo the tabs. Wipe the excess away with the old diaper. Grab a baby wipe. Wipe again and re-diaper the kid.
With boys, it’s no less difficult. TV, movies and lame uncles have no doubt prepared you for the fact that boys will pee on you. They say it’s unavoidable, it’s going to happen and, when it does, there will be a laugh track. The truth is, you’re a dude and you know how your junk works. As soon as air hits their junk, they’re going to want to go. Apply this knowledge and you’ll be fine. Besides, if you get peed on more than once you should be required to turn in your penis.
For boys, you’re using the old diaper for defensive measures. Undo the tabs and let some air in. Let the snake drain. Wipe the excess. Use some baby wipes and re-diaper the kid. Done. Not peed on. Good for you.
These instructions are for disposable diapers only. Some people may choose to use cloth diapers. You will learn to laugh at those people.
Plain and simple, if you don’t help your wife, your family will die in an avalanche of diapers. One person cannot keep up with dual ass management and stay ahead of the onslaught.
Like everything with twins, you’ll want to change their diapers at the same time. Getting these kids on the same schedule should be the number two thing on your to do list right after “not dying from exhaustion.” If one craps, check both butts. This, along with keeping them on the same feeding and sleep schedule, could be the only thing that keeps you sane.
Also, due to the cost of so many diapers, you’ll be broke. Good luck.
GETTING OUT OF EVERYTHING
You may not get out of changing diapers but you can get out of everything else. That newborn little baby is a get-out-of-anything-you-don’t-want-to-do-card/poop generator. You’re not going to have to do anything you don’t want to for at least a year.
Family gatherings, work functions, birthday parties—pretty much anything short of court appearances can be overruled by the phrase, “new baby.” Sound tired when you say it and you can use it as much as you want without fear. No one has a right to call you on it. Especially no one without their own kid.
You probably never thought that this weak little child was so powerful, but it’s deceptive. Embrace this power now. It will fade over time.
Twice the kids. Twice the not doing anything. Enjoy it while it lasts. The free pass and the pity run out at three.
BOTTLES
At one point in your life, you probably said, “Dang, I love nipples. I mean, I really love them. I can’t get enough of them and there’s nothing in this world that could ever make me sick of them.” And, who could blame you? Even the word nipple is fun to say. It starts deep in your soul and rolls off the tongue with a pop that puts it out into the world for all to enjoy. Say it slow. Nipple. What could ruin that?
Welcome to bottles. You’ve got to feed this baby constantly. They have one job at this age and that is to fill diapers. A near constant input of food is needed to generate that much crap and it’s your job to supply it—all through a nipple.
It seems simple enough; put something in a bottle. Empty the bottle. Done. You and the beer companies have been doing it for years. But, this is a baby bottle so you know it’s way more complicated than it needs to be.
If you’re using formula, you’re going to have to mix it. (Note: Yes, pre-mixed formula exists, but if you’re using it you’ve probably hired someone to read this book for you so just stop arguing). First of all, this stuff stinks. We all know that it’s going to be poo eventually, but can’t we all pretend it won’t by making it smell like banana or something? It seems they can make anything smell like bananas, so why not this?
Second, it mixes like a paste—a paste that will get into every crevasse of that bottle. No, bottles don’t really have crevasses. Not until you put formula in them.
You’ll need to heat the bottle. And, of course, you can’t do that in the microwave because that would be too easy. No, you’ll have to put the bottle in warm water and slowly raise the temperature like our forefathers’ mothers did. This takes forever and the kid will certainly cry until the laws of thermodynamics catch up with your baby’s demands.
I know. You still want to use the microwave and me saying you can’t isn’t a good enough reason not to. The reason you can’t use the microwave is because it will obliterate all of the nutrients in the formula. Why it doesn’t do this to our Hot Pockets or Patio Burritos is beyond science’s grasp of fairness. You’ll just have to use the hot water method.
Once the kid has emptied the bottle and spit up the food you just tried to feed it, you’ll need to clean the bottle. This will require several specially designed brushes and pieces of equipment including a nipple brush. This is where you’ll actually start to hate nipples. After a couple of weeks you may even state it aloud or confess it to your friends. You’ve got to scrub all of the formula out of the bottle and ream all of the gunk out of the nipple while burning your hands with scalding water.
Once they have been soaked, soaped and scrubbed thoroughly you’ll have to steam them because even a board of pediatricians knows that you suck at washing dishes.
If your wife plans on breastfeeding you’ve probably figured that bottles won’t be a part of your life as she’ll be keeping all the food in her boobs. Well congratulations, your deductive reasoning skills have brought you to exactly the wrong conclusion.
A woman’s boobs are among the most amazing things on Earth, but they don’t know when a kid is sleeping and they can’t always be where the kid happens to be. Due to this lack of awareness, the boobs will continue to make breast milk even when the kid is not around. So it must be pumped and stored in bottles and little bags that cost too much and, naturally, can’t be reused. These bags will eventually fill your freezer and it’s important to remember that no matter how tired you are when you look in there, they are not really surprise ice cream cones.
Little frozen bags. That have to be thawed. But, not in the microwave. That kills nutrients. Better warm up the water, clever guy who thought breastfeeding would mean less work.
Honestly, if you don’t let the kid get too far ahead of you, dealing with bottles really isn’t the worst thing ever.
Oh my God. Dealing with bottles is the worst thing ever. The sheer number of them is ridiculous. And you’re constantly cleaning them. You’re doing two dishwasher loads a day to stay ahead of the chaos and one of those loads is just bottles! It’s amazing that you find time to dirty other dishes because at this point it seems like all you’re doing is wiping ass and cleaning bottles.
And even though there are only two loads of dishes a day, it seems like you have to load it a dozen times. Why? Because you’ve got so many damn bottles that by the time you cram the last one in there the rest pop out like some sadistic version of that game Perfection. So you cram them back in just a little different and they pop up so you cram them in just a little different and they pop up so you cram them in just a little different and they pop up. And this never ever ends until your kids are drinking out of sippy cups. Then you repeat the process with sippy cups.
The stupidest part is that when you finally get all the bottles to fit you’ll feel wonderful. After successfully moving bottles, rotating plates and closing the door, you’ll get excited like you just beat the last level of Tetris. It is only at that point that you’ve finally conquered the bottles that you’ll realize you left half a dozen out.
I’ve got no tips here. There is no solution. Just do your best and try not to go mad.
MAKING NOISE
This will be one of the most solid pieces of advice that I give so pay attention.
Don’t be that couple.
Don’t be the family that gets upset at people for calling the house when the baby is asleep. It’s irrational for you to think that someone who is separated from you by a distance so great that it requires the magic of telephony to reach you would know that your kid is having his beddy time.
Don’t be the family that yells at people for ringing the doorbell or gets in the neighbor’s face because their dog barked and made your dog bark which woke your baby. You’re just becoming the neighborhood ass that everyone hopes will move.
But, more importantly, you want those noises. You want all kinds of noises. When your baby first comes home it will sleep no matter what. Its body is busy developing or something and it needs the rest so badly that it will not wake up because Fido thought that the house was under attack or because somebody had the audacity to call and see how you were doing.
In fact, when your newborn is sleeping, you need to raise hell. Turn up that action movie in the living room. Vacuum. Start a band called the Din and play only the opening to We Will Rock You over and over again outside the nursery door.
This will get your child used to sleeping through the normal noises of every day. Once it is a little older, it will sleep through anything and you won’t have to be a jerk to everybody who calls the house unless that’s who you truly are.
That’s it. That’s solid baby raising advice right there. Don’t ignore it.
YOU’RE GOING TO DO SOMETHING STUPID AND INSENSITIVE WHILE THINKING IT’S A GOOD IDEA
It won’t take long before looking at your wife makes you sad. She’s gone through a lot and even more lies ahead. She’s dealing with the same cluelessness and frustrations that you are. And, on top of all that, she’s lactating. That’s something you can’t even do.
A loving husband would realize that she needs a break. A better husband would give her one. A great husband would use her break-time to pull off a Herculean cleaning effort.
You’re a great husband so you tell your wife to plan a day for herself. You’ll watch the kid, she just needs to get out of the house and do whatever she wants. She’s going to end up wasting it shopping for baby clothes but it’s her day so you can’t complain.
While she’s out you go into overdrive and somehow, using every last bit of energy, clean the entire house all while watching the kid. You turn the new baby impacted home from a diaper-ridden disaster into a centerfold from Better Homes and Gardens. Things are put up. Floors are vacuumed. Light bounces off of polished surfaces in a manner that would send Ansel Adams racing for his camera. You are a great husband.
You are also a dumb bastard.
When your wife comes home, all relaxed from shopping for baby clothes, she will smile and tear up. You’ll be all proud of yourself because you’re dumb enough to think she’s crying tears of happiness.
It won’t be until later that she completely breaks down. Why? Because of what you did.
She’s been home with the kid every day since it was born and can barely find the energy to shower much less clean the house. She spends all day wondering if she can even handle raising a kid without going insane and you just spent an entire day showing her up.
Of course it wasn’t your plan to psychologically destroy your wife. It just happened that way. So here’s my advice. Never clean. It’s for her benefit.
TIME FOR YOURSELF
It’s
easy to get wrapped up in your new responsibilities as guardian of life for your new child but it’s important to take time for yourself as well. You’ll find yourself insisting that your wife get out of the house and away from the smell of diapers. You need to do the same. Your new role of protector of the innocent may try to argue with this advice but you’re going to need to ignore it.
If you had hobbies before you had the child, chances are you have not found time for them lately. Don’t let them go. You’re not betraying your family by getting away for a few hours every now and then and your sanity is going to need it.
If you haven’t had your kid yet, this will seem strange. You’re probably thinking that it won’t be a problem. But, as guys, we all feel a sudden responsibility to always be there for our family. This is normal, but you’ll drive everyone crazy if you never leave.
Don’t neglect yourself. You’ll turn into a jerk. And nobody likes a jerk.
ROLLING OVER AND THE RELATED HYSTERICS
Scoring the game-winning touchdown. Writing a doctoral thesis. Curing cancer. There’re a lot of things your kid may do one day to gain the praise and adulation of family members, but none of them will compare to the bat-shit hysterics that will occur when your child first rolls over on their own.
Watch Your Junk and Other Advice for Expectant Fathers Page 5
