we’re like a biblical plague

So Desi has been in the house for 10 days and we’ve already gotten him sick. I knew this would happen when I started feeling my through hurt the last day in the hospital.

Tree and I tend to play parasite ping pong, then Noah came, and with the addition of Desi I guess we can now play doubles. It’s good to know that we’ve informed him that he’ll always be safe with us, his new family, as long as he can weather the minimum of one-per-season cold that I get, and then spread around the house.

Last night was awful. Tree and I had been dealing fairly well with the less sleep thing, but last night was bad. Desi had gas, and I suppose starting to feel the cold too. He was miserable, and was sure to let everyone else know about it.

Upside, Noah spent his first night in underwear. He woke up around midnight to use the bathroom, and made it the rest of the way through morning without incident. This would be more exciting if he had pooped in the past two days though. He pees fine, but he will run around demanding a diaper to poop in. He simply doesn’t understand the idea of popping in the toilet. He will openly admit to preferring to poop standing up, hiding behind a curtain like that ghost kid in Three Men and a Baby. That’s a not a joke. I’ve actually caught him standing behind a curtain, with that blank stare cats have when they poop.

Today I’m back at work, Tree’s first day alone with the boy. Noah is at school. Personally, I’m envious of the woman. She’s probably sitting at home right now with an unconscious kid on her chest, watching Arrested Development on Netflix Streaming, dozing in and out of consciousness.

Meanwhile I’m here, at work, working my fingers to the bone. Yep. Busy, busy, busy.

bullard baby watch 2010 is back on! and now it’s over.

image

“I’m having pretty strong contractions baby.”  That’s what she says to me at 7:15 am. 

“It’s not August 5th yet.  That’s against the rules.”

That’s how the morning started.  I’ll fill in details later, as typing on my phone is annoying.

So, Desmond Gregory Bullard was born at 10:05 this morning, after 3 hours of all-natural labor.  6lbs 6oz. 20 inches long.

There you go.

with a graphic like this, do i really need a title?


Yesterday, at about 5:30 Teresa informs me she may be induced today. There’s a few tests she needs to do, (Something about low fluids. Can’t Jiffy Lube take care of that?) and if she tests positive for them, they’re going to go ahead and pop the baby out. This is a little disconcerting on a few fronts. The first, of course, being the health of the baby. He’s measuring 32-33 weeks along, despite the fact that he measured 36 weeks last week. (week week week.) So perhaps he’s shrinking? That’s no good. I never saw Benjamin Button, how did it end?

The over all idea is that if she is low on fluids, he’s far enough along that having him out in the ‘real world’ is better than trying to um…I don’t know, top her off? I honestly have no idea how this all works.

Then of course, most importantly, how this all affects me.

I’ve spent some time in contemplation, thinking about how this will change our lives. You’d think having a second kid isn’t such a big deal, since you’ve already had one, but for some reason, it is. I’ve already forgotten most of infant care. I think it’s something along the lines of “don’t support the head” and “shake when crying.” Maybe, I don’t know if that sounds right.

Here’s a great example of how my life is already changing. I’m trying to write this post, and Tree informs me that we need to “go” to the “doctor” to get “tests” to see if she’s going to be induced right now. Gah! I never get any ME time!

Real quick, since I know this is going to be a big deal use #BullardBabyWatch2010 for Twitter trending topics. And keep your eyes here for all updates.

i never said i was perfect

It would appear I have made a monster.

Over the past couple of years Tree has yelled at me a few times about how I tell Noah to clean himself while he eats. I simply try and help him from spreading his mess any further than it needs to be. If he gets spaghetti sauce on his hands, you might as well have him wipe it off, lest he wipe it all over his face, shirt, table, etc. Nothing wrong with not making a huge mess every time you eat. Only a crazy person would take this little bit of guidance and turn it into a personal mantra.

Well, leave it to my son to blow things out of proportion.

It’s come to the point where he’ll throw a fit if he gets things on his hands. The first time it snowed this winter we played outside until he tripped and landed hand first in snow. He burst into tears about his hands being wet. “Clean it off!” he cried.

Today he and I took a walk through our neighborhood to investigate a small patch of woods. We walked about 3/4 of a mile (which is 10 miles in toddler units) to a little wooded area between two subdivisions. On the way there he talked about how he was going to find dinosaur skeletons. He was very excited. Then he saw the woods. “Those woods dirty daddy.”

I managed to get him about 15 feet in before he made us turn around due to his concerns about getting his shoes dirty. I’m not making that up. He refused to go any further.

Tonight as I put him to bed, we talked about our day, and when I asked him if he enjoyed our walk, his only comment was about the woods being too dirty. “Someone should make the woods clean daddy.” Again, this is a direct quote. I have to get him out of this mindset, cause all my hopes and dreams of exploring the woods and camping with my son could easily be destroyed if he’s a neat freak.

If only his dirt phobia could be molded to get him to pick up his LEGO…

Speaking of going to sleep, my son has figured out each and every method he can use to delay his loosing consciousness. It used to be “I’m scared.” but that doesn’t work very well any more. He still uses it no doubt, but we brush it off pretty quickly now. So he’s expanded his repertoire to included “I don’t like my pajamas” to “the tags are scratchy” and he’s even learned to utilize his toilet training to delay sleep. He knows we can’t just ignore a “I need to go to the potty” so he uses it to get out of bed. I swear, this kid is either going to use his manipulation skills for good and become a hostage negotiator, or he’s going to be the leader of a huge cult. Hey, Tom Cruise has to step down at some point right? (Bazing! Scientology joke! Let’s see if I get sued!)

I guess it’s a good thing we’re having another one. Maybe we can raise that one right. I mean, if you look at my family you can see that my parents didn’t get it right the first time. My oldest sister is insane, but by the time they got to me, they spat out a well rounded, funny, good looking super human.

Also, I’m super humble. Like, the most humble guy ever.