The man…

Me and E…behind the man behind the baby

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As a wise man once said, “You know, Mrs. Buckman, you need a license to buy a dog, to drive a car – hell, you even need a license to catch a fish. But they’ll let any butt-reaming asshole be a father.”

Hi my name is Chris and I’m a new dad. OK not like yesterday new, or even last week. My daughter (Nora as she will henceforth be known) is closing in on 7 months old. However, considering she is going to be in my house for another seventeen and a half years, I think I still qualify as new. But I’m getting ahead of myself here.

(by the way, if you want to skip the setup and get right to the part about why I’m writing this whole thing, just drop down about 4 more paragraphs…it’s ok, I won’t be offended)

My wife (henceforth known as Michelle or Shelly)and I went to dinner one night at our favorite Bar and Grill. Truthfully it was more bar than grill but they did have good food, and it was only a mile from our house. It was there over burgers and beer ($2.50 Red Stripe, all day every day…can’t beat that with a stick), that she told me we would be parents. After the shock wore off things pretty much went back to normal (moreso for me I suppose). Neither one of us was really grasping the gravity of it all at that point. Plus Shelly didn’t experience any of the usual indicators. No cravings. Nice. No morning sickness. Score! Like I said, things seemed pretty normal.

Everything sunk in very slowly. After we made the announcement, we got lots of phone calls, pats on the back, and words of wisdom from our friends who already had kids. Michelle started flipping through baby books and magazines like it was her job. Honestly though, until Nora popped out and took her first breath, I didn’t really feel like I was involved all that much in what was going on..you know, aside from being partly responsible for what we were about to get in to. Shelly was a bit annoyed with me at times because I wasn’t reading up on all of the stacks of books we had about the birthing process, parenting, and so on.

But that all changed the day Nora joined the family. I was a dad now! What did I know about being a dad? Squat! And those books I had been casually skimming through? Worthless. Unless your (and by your I mean your wife’s) birthing process goes exactly like the person writing said book, it’s not worth the paper it’s printed on. And apparently, according to many of these books, as soon as you get the kid home your job is pretty much done.

(jumpers start reading here)

As a thinking man’s asshole once said, “I don’t want to get on a rant here”, but where’s the dad advice? Come on dads you know what I’m talking about. Pick up any issue of Parents, American Baby, Parenting, etc. and look at the table of contents. I’ll bet you all the money in my pocket that 3-4 of the feature articles include the word “mom” right there in the title. One (maybe one) refers to dad by name. That one usually focuses on things like “give mom a break and take baby for a walk.” Even the articles directed toward the parent collective still tend to give Mom the nod.

Infuriated by this state of affairs, I turned to the internets for help. Dad blogs? Oh there’s TONS of dad blogs out there, but guess what? They all suck! Well ok maybe that’s not entirely fair. There’s probably some good info out there if you are a stay-at-home dad. There’s some good blogs out there if you enjoy reading about and seeing pictures of other people’s kids. But there’s not much practical advice out there at all, at least if you are an average every day dad who is fully involved in the whole child-rearing process.

I will give credit where credit is due, there is one pretty solid blog out there called Metrodad, though I have a hard time taking anyone who lives in San Francisco seriously. And so here we are. Taking matters into my own hands, I’m setting out on my own to hopefully provide the “common dad” with some practical advice, pointers, product recommendations and reviews, music, toys, and everything a hip and modern dad needs to survive this thing called fatherhood.

UPDATE: Where in the world is Metrodad?

Metrodad was kind enough to correct me regarding his place of origin. It seems he is actually from NYC. I’m not sure that’s helping your case Metrodad! (just kidding). Thanks for reading and keep the comments comming.

4 thoughts on “The man…

  1. What up B? Good Idea on the Daddy Blog. There isn’t enough out there for the Big Poppas. And when you do read those little “fluff” pieces, like, “Give Mom a break and take the kid on a walk, ” you want to smack someone. Stuff like that makes you want to yell, “Walk? Listen bitch, I survived a weekend alone with the kid during a particularly gnarly case of the rotovirus, both ends of the poor girl erupting like Vesuvius, don’t make it sound like all we can do is take the kid for a walk now and then.” But maybe that’s just me.

    7 Months? Have you started getting the random screming fits when it’s just you and the girl at home? Reese was around 6 months or so when that started happening. Nothing I could do could calm her down hardly. Luckily it didn’t last for more than a month or so. Now, even though she generally wants Mommy more, she actually behaves better for me.

  2. Wow, no.3. I feel for my man above with the screaming fits. My baby girl, Evyn, is 9 months now and starting to discover her full vocal range. Luckily it’s not sustained…yet.

    I’d have to say the most important discovery I’ve made since my tenure as a father began is that if mom’s happy, the baby is happy. I truly believe this. I’ll wash the bottles; I’ll change diapers; I’ll give baths. Whatever keeps mom in a good mood. As a result my daughter is always in a good mood. When mom is cranky, Evyn is cranky.

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