Bonnie and Snide

My baby girl swims now. She's a swimmer. Well, ok that may be an exaggeration. She definitely flails, she kinda kicks. Oh and she for sure chokes and splutters when you dunk her (not my idea, blame the swim teacher!) We started swim lessons about a week ago, and the girl took to them instantly. As I have mentioned before, I won't allow any insinuation that my progeny aren't natural swimmers because "IT'S IN THE GENES"; but she even surprised me with how comfortable she seemed in the water. Since Adair has done basically everything to keep this child alive for the last 10 months, I jumped at swim lessons as my opportunity to take the lead on a parenting job and maybe give the wife some time (27 minutes) to herself.  The lessons themselves though, are bananas. Let's go through them bit by bit here: Location: Oregon City Pool When I said I would never move to the suburbs, I meant it, and I stand by it. I can't afford to live in Portl...

Time has recently become incredibly confusing for me. In three months, baby girl will celebrate her first birthday. Three months! It seems so soon. On the other hand, that is a full 1/3 of this child's life. That seems like forever  to me. For me, that's 10 years. This girl sleeps "well" about one in three nights, so during the time between now and her first birthday, I'll get about one month of decent sleep. Math. Everyone, literally everyone, has told me to cherish these baby moments because before I know it, she will be all grown up and yelling at me to leave her alone. Thus far I have been...less than successful in the cherishment department, mostly because my daughter has been so dreadfully and insufferably booooring.  She's was so lame. Undeniably cute. Smells amazing. But just a boring little drip of a human being. Until now. Because now my baby crawls! She crawls like a maniac. She crawls with all the suicidal vengeance of John Wick on pur...

Ha! I just looked back at a draft of a blog post that I had saved, but never published, entitled "6 Month Observations." All I had on the page was: "Serious question. How the hell  are second children ever born?" Apparently I had some strong feelings at the time; and those feelings were that only a goddamned FOOL would ever put himself and his family through this child-raising experience more than once. It has been more than two months since I started and never finished that post, and just today Adair and I were doing some light brainstorming about when (not if) we might start trying for Baby Row #2. So, I guess, things have gotten better. It feels weird to type that, since it's still day-to-day just a dreadfully exhausting endeavor. But with the clarity of being able to look back two months (a full 25% of my daughter's life!) I can say that things are already so much more fun. Baby is sleeping more, eating more, engaging with us more; and a lit...

Pop culture has a way of depicting life for new dads thusly:  Male childless friend: "So, you just do this now instead of [insert relevant dude stuff; i.e. football, drunkenness, strip clubs] New dad: [Looking frazzled and red-eyed, yet smiling wisely] "Yeah dude." MCF: Uhhh cool I guess? Ok I'm gonna go and do [relevant dude stuff]. ND: [More wise smiling] Oh, dear friend. You'll understand...some day. [Solitary dad happiness tear, audience "awwwws".] _______________ Before Mina was born, I promised myself several things. I promised that although having a child must change so much in your life, I wouldn't let it change who I am at my core. I promised that I wouldn't let it change my relationship with my wife. Or my relationship with my family. Or with my friends. I promised I would still care about work, love the outdoors, love baseball, keep working on my writing, find time for my hobbies, keep my sense of humor, and...

We spent a nice afternoon with Grandpa Boyd yesterday, and today we are hanging with Papa Joe. I am spending my first Father's Day as a father being conscious of all the Dads in our lives; what it means to be a dad, what we all have in common, what makes a good dad, etc. First thing to note: Both of the dads in my life seem to have hurt their backs moving kitchen appliances. In true dad fashion, both of them asked me to come down to Salem this weekend and help them move refrigerators. Before those refrigerators could be moved, both of them hurt themselves doing other things and the refrigerator plans got put on hold. So, instead of physical labor befitting a son or son-in-law, I experienced not one but two fantastic Days of the Father that just simply made me thankful for those old men in my life. Grandpa Boyd, (and/or his wife) were kind enough to buy me that 100 ft. hose I was coveting and a spray nozzle with what I have chosen to term "superb hand feel". Hey if foo...

Haven't had the time, energy, or general ability to blog for a few months, but I want to get a bunch of this stuff on the page before I forget it! Being a father has been hilarious and awesome and so damn hard. Here are some thoughts about it, in no particular order: 1) Sour cream smells exactly like digested breast milk. On a related note, I no longer eat sour cream on my nachos. 2) Babies for sure possess intricate and inexplicable psychic powers. Evidence: Baby knows the exact moment that hot food hits the table; chooses that moment to wake up from a deep sleep/freak out. Baby knows the exact moment said hot food congeals into a lukewarm trash pile; chooses that moment to peacefully drift her beautiful self back to slumber. Baby knows to wake up exactly 25 minutes before Dad's alarm goes off, every day, no matter what time the alarm is set for. Baby is willing to sleep just long enough for Dad to shower, but not long enough to let Dad get dressed. Baby doesn't ...

My daugther, Mina, was born happy and healthy on March 10, 2017. She's a 7 lb, 3oz, 20 inch ball of wonderment with large feet. This is the story of how she got here. Part IV: Finale My theory on why this labor took so damn long is that it was at least in part due to the double epidural nonsense; plus the 20% higher dosage kicker the second time around. By the time it was all said and done, Adair had two little baggies full of a drug that Wikipedia calls "50 to 100 times more potent than morphine" pumped deep into her system. Pretty sure that shit killed Philip Seymour Hoffman and  Michael Jackson. Anywho, with the pain management issue as settled as it was gonna get, it was time to start thinking about pushing to get this little bugger out. One little fun wrinkle in this whole thing was that because of insurance issues, Adair's doctor couldn't deliver Mina at the hospital where she normally worked. Adventist was considered her "backup" hospit...