Parking Island in the Sun

My wife and I don’t get to visit too many restaurants these days (which is good for our wallets as well as our waistlines), but once in a while, someone will volunteer to watch Chloe and give us a night to ourselves. We’ve only had a handful of nights out since late August of 2011, so when we get a chance to party it up, we do it well. We’ll both order an adult beverage and maybe share a dessert. We’ll take a walk and just enjoy some alone time without worrying about binkies, diapers and puréed peas.

We had such a night on Saturday, May 19. After seeing the Blue Man Group, we drove out to the Robinson area for a feast at Bahama Breeze, one of our favorite places. Now, if you’re anticipating a negative review here, I am sorry to disappoint you. In fact, the food was great… maybe even too great. I just wanted to eat and drink all that I could. Perhaps it was my body saying, “Dude, seriously, how often does this happen? Live it up! Eat! Drink! Cram all you can into this dinner!”

And so I listened to my inner glutton and stuffed my face with whatever was in front of me (including some of my wife’s dinner). I had a few plantains smothered with chicken, cheese and peppers. I downed two Blue Moons (the big ones). I shoved what seemed like pounds of bowtie pasta and salmon and bread and more fish and key lime pie into my face. About halfway through it all, my stomach had expanded so far that my belt began digging into my gut and limiting my intake. But when there’s no belt, there’s no problem (if you know what I mean).

But even with the belt gone, I was in trouble. It soon occurred to me that my body was no longer accustomed to restaurant food and so the oils and sauces from my meal were creating a sort of poison that overtook my body.

When it came time to leave, I told Laura that I would meet her outside. I had to freshen up. So I went to the restroom, looked in the mirror and saw my Dad:  a tired, waddling man with a fat gut. “Who am I?” I wondered.

I left the bathroom and then the restaurant. And that’s when it hit me. The heat was so intense that the oils and sauces inside of me started to boil. And on top of it all, Laura was pulling up to the curb and it was time to take a car ride.

“I don’t feel so good.” I told her.

“You shouldn’t have eaten so much.”

“Uhhh.”

“You have to put on your seatbelt.”

We drove maybe 100 feet.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I said.

“Want to go on the roller coaster?” she asked. (She is mean.)

“No. Don’t do it, Laura.”

We were on our way to meet her family who happened to also be in Robinson, but about five shopping plazas away. I really felt like I was going to puke. My breathing turned into subtle wheezing as I attempted a whole “mind over matter” thing. Once we reached the other side of Robinson, I told Laura to stop the car because I just couldn’t take it anymore.

“I just can’t stop in the middle of the road,” she said.

“We’re in a parking lot. Just park the car!”

“Where?”

“In one of the 200 empty spaces surrounding us!”

Finally, she parked the car and I grabbed my phone and got out. She drove off in search of her family while I took the nearest seat – a curb along a parking island in the sun (not at all related to Weezer). But, of course, the sun was intensifying the bubbling sauces churning within my stomach. I noticed more shade on the other side of the curb, but to walk around the island would surely do me in. So I simply walked through the bushes that made up the perimeter of the island.

Turned out there was an oasis in the middle of the parking island complete with two benches, some garbage cans and a ground full of mulch… it was truly a parking lot paradise. I took a seat on the nearest bench and tried to just calm down and gather myself. I didn’t want to puke in the mulch, but the smell wafting over from Five Guys took the situation into the red zone.

I had just about enough of the general discomfort, so I turned to my left and yakked up some dinner right there on the mulch. I didn’t even have the decency to waddle over to the trash can.

This experience was significant for two reasons:

1) I hit a new low. This was the first time I ever threw up from overeating.

2) I just can’t party like I used to.

I’m a Dad, and I should learn my limits so that I’m able to enjoy these rare nights out with my wife instead of throwing up alone in a parking lot outside of Wal*Mart.

Triple A

I finally have a manageable routine:

Wake up around 7:00 AM to Chloe making cute baby noises.
Pick her up, take her upstairs and change her.
Bring her downstairs for Laura to feed her.
Go to work.
Wait eight hours to go home.
Go home.
Eat dinner.
Do various things.
Go to bed.

That’s my typical weekday. But once in awhile, life throws you a wicked curveball that you don’t expect. My curveball came in the form of a dead car battery after my eight hour wait to go home. Luckily, my mother-in-law and I work for the same organization, and since she has AAA, I went back into the building to cry ask for help.

She called AAA for me and they said it would be at least an hour before someone would even call me. (What was I to expect for Friday at 5:00 PM?) So since the weather was decent, I took a walk around the 26 acre campus.

When I reached the back of the campus, I saw a AAA flatbed in the distance, trying to find Leon the Neon. I turned my walk into a brisk Mt. Lebanon mom power walk to make sure these guys didn’t miss me.

“Who are you here for?” I asked. The guy in the passenger seat was a total “dude” and gave me the right name.
“The car’s behind that building,” I said, pointing ahead.
“Get on the truck and we’ll go.” he said.
“Like, stand on the runner here?”
“Yeah, just hang on.”
So I stood on the side of the AAA truck as it went up the road to service my auto. I felt like a firefighter!

We got to my car, popped the hood and tried to start it.
“I think it’s the battery,” I told them.
“I think it’s the starter,” said the driver. “You wouldn’t have any interior lights if it was the battery.” So I let it go, trusting his expertise.

The driver was clearly training the passenger. “Where’s the starter?” he asked the trainee. The trainee pointed in one direction and the driver pointed in another. “Hmmm,” I thought.

So they went over to their truck and brought over something that looked like a cross between a crowbar and an elevator cable. They jammed it between some things under the hood, applied some force and told me to start it. No success.

They ended up towing my car to the garage down the street, but the garage folks couldn’t even look at it until Monday. We placed my keys into an envelope for the garage’s drop box. All of my information was written on the envelope and the guys wrote ‘starter?’ in the comments section.

Two days later, the garage folks call to tell me I just needed a new battery. And so I had them install the friggin’ battery.

So what’s the moral of this story? Tell the AAA guys to jump your battery so you can take your car to Advance Auto Parts and save $30 on unnecessary labor costs.

Annoying And Aggravating

At least I got to hang off the side of a flatbed. That was fun.

You Got a Nose!

Chloe is seven weeks old today. These were seven long weeks that went by very quickly (if that makes any sense).

She’s now starting to smile and make girlish cooing noises that make our hearts melt. I find myself saying cute but obvious things to her like “You got a nose!” and “Who’s a baby?” hoping she’ll let out something close to a girlish laugh. She’s tons of fun, even when we’re just watching her sleep, which can be up to 6 straight hours. Goodbye, twitching eyes!

One thing I’m noticing is her developing addiction to her pacifier (or “binkers” as I like to call it). She seems to need it in her mouth all the time, and the second it drops from her lips, she bursts into screams which shoot through our eardrums. Of course, the only solution is to shove it back in her face. Binkers is going to be a hard habit to break someday.

Night of the Living Dad

I changed a diaper this morning that smelled like old milk and bacon. It was interesting.

Anyway, I haven’t posted any “life with baby” updates for while since I’ve been searching for that balance between full time employee and dad. I think it’s actually going pretty well (thanks to my wife who is kind enough to take all nighttime feedings and changings during the weekdays).

But then again, there are days when I’m a dumb zombie, unable to hold a conversation, remember a conversation and recall the name of the person I’m talking to. It’s kind of like living through a dream; I’ll transition from one place to another without any recollection how or why I arrived there.

And on those zombie days, I usually develop a headache that either makes my head feel like it weighs 20 pounds, or produces a sharp pain in the very middle of my head; not just my forehead, mind you, but my three dimensional skull. Sometimes I think it’s my brain about to explode.

But these “days of death” are few and far between. In fact, Chloe actually slept through the night a few days ago (from 11:30 PM until 6:00 AM). This of course, was a fluke since she woke up twice the very next night.

I’m hungry, so I’m not going to wrap things up in a nice little package here.

And, unlike most zombies, I’m not craving brains for breakfast. I’m going for Wheaties.

My First Day Back to Work

Today was my first day back to work with over eight hours away from Chloe. It was the longest we’ve been apart since her birthday a week and a half ago. Needless to say, it was a nice little break. Too bad I wasn’t sleeping.

And before you think I’m heartless, I’ll admit that part of me really missed her. I missed the way she sometimes tries to suckle my knuckles… the strange noises she makes from her pack ‘n play… and even the baby scent she gives off (which is a combination of ointment, diapers and laundry detergent). Sometimes this smell is so overwhelming, it gags me.

The day sure went fast though. In just a few hours, I’ll attempt to get three or four hours of sleep before the cries of hunger wake me. I’ll also make sure to shut my eyes extra tight as I try to avoid the intense glow of the most powerful night light ever created. (Thanks again for installing it on my bedside, Laura.)

Goodnight!

Why Did I Have a Kid?

A few people have asked me this question. Here’s the answer: Life was getting a little boring and predictable. I mean, how often can Laura and I go to a restaurant, not get dessert, come home before 9:00 PM, watch Cake Boss in the living room and the Weather Channel while in bed before it starts losing its luster? And since no one ever wanted to hang out with us, we figured hey, why not create people to hang out with us. Makes sense, right?

My wife and I had a baby because we love each other and felt it was only natural to turn our love (an intangible feeling) into something physical and very real. And that’s beyond awesome.

Having a baby is one of life’s greatest experiences… but you can read that in just about any parenting magazine or birthing brochure in the country. I’ve only experienced the first week, and I know there’s much more on the way. But as for now, all I can say is that it’s life changing. Instead of “us,” there’s now “all of us.”

The Baby Blues... With a Lot of Pink

It’s been nearly a week since Chloe came into our lives. Juat a week ago, I was sipping over a pint and a half of stout in the dining room, reading through a beer magazine while Laura sat in the living room watching Ghostbusters. This was the scene just before her water broke at 11:30 PM.

This week has been a whirlwind of excitement, worry, bliss, frustration and tears... and sometimes all at once. We have what is called the “baby blues”.

Here’s what St. Clair Hospital says about the baby blues:

Up to 80 percent of new mothers cry easily or feel stressed following the birth of a baby. When this happens within the first two weeks of pregnancy, it is called the “baby blues”. These feelings may be associated with changes in sleep patterns and/or appetite. They are considered a normal part of early motherhood and should go away as quickly as they came within a few days.

Tempers sometimes escalated this week. Earlier today, Laura questioned me on my whereabouts.

“Where were you for the last ten minutes?”
“Watching some videos online.”
“That’s great. Why don’t you do something a little more adult?”
“Like what? Do some taxes in my spare moments?"

This was obviously the wrong answer, but we worked it out!

Achieving a new balance is more than just a slogan for a shoe company. It’s a goal we are striving for right now. And I think after a few weeks, we should have a good idea on how best to live our new life as a family (or so I’m told).