The Diaper Logs

I haven’t posted anything here for a while, but I hope to remedy that and get back into the habit.

Until i do, I’m going to let the great Henry Rollins speak directly to my son.

Kid A, pay attention to this.

Has it really been 7 months since I posted to this stupid blog?

I supposed there’s some truth in the age old axiom that time really DOES fly when you’re knuckle deep in baby poop. It’s nice to know that nobody’s missed me.

Two weekends ago marked a few big milestones for our Kid A. First trip to the dog park, first time eating actual food (well… “eating” may be a bit generous. “Getting a rice facial” is probably more accurate. Seriously, after feeding him he looked like he had been auditioning for some Japanese bukkake porn, concluding with the obligatory uncontrolled crying jag), and the first time mommy and daddy went out together and left him with a sitter at night.

Yup, we had our first date night since His Majesty showed up. What did we do on our night off? We went to see a documentary about my favorite comic, Bill Hicks.

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I’m having a harder and harder time reconciling myself with the fact that I’m raising Kid A in a country that thought giving Larry The Cable Guy would be a good idea.

Goddammit, History Channel… what happened to you?

(speaking of history, the title to this gem is a quote from Mark Twain)

I’m not one of these guys who’ll be happy to accept listening to The Wiggles (although I love my wife’s rendition of “Hot Potato”) just ‘cause I have a kid now, but I’ve recently discovered a series of CDs that will probably save my ears as my son gets older. The series is called Rockabye Baby, and the eclectic lineup of artists (from Bjork to Led Zeppelin) will keep the average audiophile happy for quite a while (but pretentious, above-average audiophiles will be bored and restless almost immediately, and will quickly return to reading Pitchfork). 

                                                                                          (none of these babies are mine)

It really seems like they’re trying to cover all the musical bases here. So far, my son seems to like The Cure, Elvis and Queen CDs the most. As for myself, I’m enjoying trying to identify which song is which as I listen to the CDs with him. The AC/DC songs proved particularly difficult, as they only have two songs in their catalog (the fast one and the slow one), and they all sound like Twinkle Twinkle when played on mellotron, triangle and xylophone. Did I mention these are instrumental versions?No? Oh, okay.

These are instrumental versions.                           

In a nice visual compliment to the musical interpretations, the album artwork of each one riffs on classic images from the bands they’re covering by using kid-friendly teddy bears to reference art associated with each band. Some of the artwork is a direct reinterpretation of a band’s album cover art, and some just seems to be inspired by it.  While some of the art missed the mark for me (the Led Zeppelin artwork inexplicably uses a stick-man instead of the teddy to recreate their famous winged man logo), I would like to see some of these images placed onto some merch… who wouldn’t want to wear a t-shirt with a cute cartoon teddy bear replicating Ozzy’s famous pose from Black Sabbath’s Vol 4 album?

(yes, that’s actual, awesome artwork).

As I mentioned, the catalog contains a pretty wide variety of musical genres and artists, but I have to admit that I won’t be listening to all of them.  I had enough of Bon Jovi during those awful 80’s skate parties to last for my kid’s entire lifetime, The Eagles and No Doubt can, as per usual, go screw themselves, and recording lullaby versions of Coldplay songs seems redundant. Yes, I’d prefer to hear my baby howl the night away than listen to those and a few others (Kanye West, i’m looking at you and your idiotic sunglasses), but I’ll be checking back frequently to see what new bands are getting the plinky-plunky treatment… apparently Weezer will be coming soon, and I can only hope that it’s just a matter of time before I finally get to hear a lullaby version of Rush’s Tom Sawyer.

And what a glorious learning experience that will be for The Kid.

do NOT turn out like this asshole.

Although I’m a new parent and want the best for my son, there’s one thing I’ll never do.I will never, ever, put those lame stick-figure stickers of family members on the back window of my car. They’re the Baby On Board of the 21st century.

Having a newborn in the house has recently taught me that sleep is a lot like a roll of toilet paper- You don’t realize how much you need it until don’t have any. 

Also, in an emergency, you can get by with almost none.

Father. I’m weirded out by the word, although I don’t feel weird being one, but as of Thursday, November 4th, 2010 (12:21 AM), I am one. So I guess I’d better get used to the idea.

It’s kind of an odd word. Father.

Just look at it.

Father. Looks a bit like fatter, which is how I’d pronounce it if I were Irish. It’s also what I’ll be if I continue eating this way. Broken into two words, it’s fat her, which is something I avoid saying at all costs, as my wife is lightning quick and deceptively strong, and I enjoy peace in the house (besides which, she looks hotter every day. And, yes, she will be reading these little ramblings).

It also looks a bit like farther, just off by a little r. This makes sense, since that’s where this trip will be taking me. You know the trip… The Parenting Trip. It’s the one that, when you’re single* and have no kids, you cringe at being exposed to. Diaper talk. Poo theories. Breast feeding philosophy. This is the longest trip I’ll ever take, no doubt, and it’ll be filled with potholes, traffic, red lights, beautiful sights and weird smells.

*And fair warning to those single folks who might accidentally happen to read this series of web bullshit: THERE WILL, AT SOME POINT, BE A HEALTHY DISCUSSION OF BEING PEED ON BY AN INFANT, so proceed at your own discretion. I know what you single folks go through, ‘cause I was one until pretty recently.

I’ve had nine months to grow accustomed to the idea of being responsible for a baby, but it’s still so strange. I mean, my wife and I made a person, the physical nuts (pun intended… we’ve got a son. See what I did there?) and bolts of one. That was the easy (and fun) part, but now that he’s here, I’m charged with building one. Building a little boy who is strong and self-assured, intellectually curious, active, and well rounded. Building a young man who is respectful and polite, but knows when to stand up for himself and call bullshit when it’s warranted. Building a man who will be happy, healthy and human, not some douchebag who won’t hold a door open at the store for someone with their arms full, or won’t say, “thank you,” when someone does the same for him.

Since as many as three people who are not my blood relatives have asked about what I’ve been going through, I figured what the world is in desperate need of is another mostly anonymous blog read by a handful of people for a couple of weeks before I tire of writing it and people tire of reading it. So, that’s the idea here. If you’re reading this, I hope you choose to read subsequent posts, or at least look at the pictures (he’s cute, you’ll like them). Brace yourselves for mostly average, generally uninteresting minutiae, occasionally peppered with obscenities and obvious jokes.

You’re welcome, world.