I haven't seen a topic along these lines, so I figured I'd start one. Considering how many of us at TRF are new or fairely new *smacks self for bad pun* parents, bring forth faire stories of your wee ones, and advice you might have for rennie parents-to-be :D
My contribution- Lessons of a First-Time Father
Fathers-to-be or future fathers-to-be, heed my words now: there are things you must know that no one will teach you. I give unto thee the fruits of my experiences over the past 3 months...
* Babies are smarter than they appear. This is true in all things, but especially true when it comes to tactical planning. They plot when the most effective time to ambush you will be, and strike without warning. Be aware that they can, as I have discovered to my dismay, spit up three times their own body weight when you are dressed in finery for an interview or meeting, reach into a compressed reserve tank and find even more poop to hose you with while you are changing their diaper, and possess stealth pee that can soak a changing pad and onesey in 1.3 nanoseconds, yet not be visible until you go to put the new diaper on and make the infamous splash-down. Seriously, these are not freak accidents of coincidence, they plan this stuff. Prepare to have them wait for the most inconvenient time possible- probable while camping after running out of supplies in Patrons, or while at the precise geographical point of faire that is farthest from any privy- to unleash.
* Babies carry compression tanks somewhere inside them. This may seem far-fetched, but it is the only possibility that I have come up with to explain how a 15 lb infant can project bodily material further than a 220 lb athletic frat boy in the midst of an epic kegger. Projectile vomiting is nothing, projectile pooping is where it gets REALLY scary. I'm not sure if it holds true with all babies, but ours has a range of about 1.2 meters. Fully-clothed showers and emergency laundry sessions will ensue. They also seem to increase pressure and quantity in direct proportion to the value, washability, and replaceability of your garb. Outfits that can only be dry-cleaned, cost something close to a car payment or more, and happen to be the ONLY outfit you have with you... yeah, record yardage and quantity shall ensue.
* Babies are second only to kittens in their expertise of the Cuteness Defense. If anyone else in your life demanded in screaming tirades that you feed them, carry them around, wipe their butt, change their clothes, and basically ensure that the world revolved around them, you'd smack the biscuits out of them... either that, or you have some VERY weird fetishes. Babies can pull it off with their secret weapon, the coo and giggle. My daughter is currently doing this next to me as I type as a prelude to the "STOPTYPINGANDLOVEONMEDAMMITORISHALLFEASTUPONYOURSOUL!!!" screaming session when she realizes I am not holding her. This cuteness also seems to have an affect on the neural network of the brain that centers on memory, because you forget all about the sleepless nights, poo-dodging sessions, getting peed on, the screaming that convinces you that you inherited a particularly obnoxious banshee with an overabundance of enthusiasm for her job, and the ten frillion dollars you spend on things that they either outgrow in thirty seconds, or who's sole purpose is to be urinated and defecated upon and then discarded. Militaries around the world have tried, and failed, to duplicate this pacification technique.
* Beware the cheese. Yeah, I know, this sounds a bit weird, but apparently the upper digestive tract of an infant can turn milk into cottage cheese in under a minute. This may not sound like that big of a deal, but when it is projectile-horked all over you (see above), you will never be able to look at cottage cheese again. Related to this is the Poop of Doom, which I will cover later.
* You will need a second job to keep her covered. Between diapers that are priced as if they were made of sentient nanofiber and the clothing that she will wear maybe twice before she outgrows it, you will spend as much covering your child as you will putting her through college. It never ceases to amaze me that you spend so much money on garments who's sole purpose is to be peed and pooped on, and then discarded. Garb only increases this, as you will spend a butt-tonne of money making or buying an outfit in October that they will have outgrown by November. If you have girls, this will only increase exponentially when she hits her teenage years and the subsequent Fad of the Month period kicks off. So, the phenomenal costs of clothing your infant will be good training for later in life.
* Beware the Poop of Doom. There is something that all fathers will encounter at least once in their lives that can- and has- reduced the toughest, most hardened SpecOps veterans and hardened cops, firefighters, and medics into shuddering shellshocked hollow wrecks of men who will actually devolve into saying "Eeeeew!", probably for the first time in their lives. It is the Poop of Doom. It isn't so much the consistency and appearance of the poop- which resembles week-old guacamole- nor the smell- roadkill combined with sour milk- it is both of those combined with the physics-defying quantity of it and the propensity of the baby to fire off second and even third volleys of it whilst you are still in mid-cleanup from the first. It is the Shatterer of Souls, the Unholy Event, and it WILL scar you for life. My first encounter with it was made worse by the fact that it happened on fajita night. Guacamole will never be the same again.
* You will discover your inner caveman. Og no like when bad people make baby scream! Og SMASH BAD PEOPLE! This will probably help you get into character for Barbarian Weekend, but in general society it is problematic at best, and conducive to spending quality time in the local pokey for aggrivated assault with a burp cloth more likely :D
* Explosives- the cornerstone of proper parenting. You know what, on second thought, I'll keep that particular lesson to myself. Suffice it to say that you will need a stress reliever. Find one suitable to your particular tastes
Have you and Dave Barry thought about writing a book together?
LOL, Excellent!
Breandan,
In another 27 months, she'll be in the middle of "The Terrible Two's" --- make sure you update your list at that time. ;) ;D
Take Care,
David Baldock
Oh, it won't take that long... just wait until she starts eating actual FOOD!!! You think the poop is bad now??? Aaaaahahahahahaha!!! ::)
Yeah, what Rani said.
As for the cost of clothing.... dude, you have only the faintest of ideas. I survived my two grown daughters AND now have a faire working teenage stepdaughter. Thank gods her mother sews garb.
Ok, so here's one from TRF last year:
I've got an 11yo daughter going on 17. She's a little (little is relative, she's almost 5'7") jock and Daddy has always bought regular t-shirts, basketball shorts, etc., you know the unisex type clothing. Her garb usually consisted of an inexpensive costume from the costume store during halloween. Though Breandan "thinks" he knows of the pains of buying clothes, it is only just beginning, and God forbid he ends up with a daughter that grows like mine. Suffice to say, Daddy is not real excited at the prospect of buying garb for her.
On to faire...On Saturday I wander in to Ravenswood and pick up a few odds and ends, nothing major, and as I check out I notice there's a rack of bodices marked way down on sale. I was flying solo at that moment, so I simply filed it away for future use. Faire was a blast, had a great time, and I head out to the campgrounds after cannon to find my daughter pouting over the tatters of the costume which lasted a grand total of a day. "Hmm," I think to myself "maybe I will take her and look at bodices tomorrow at Ravenswood". After a night of good old fashioned faire debauchery, I rise on Sunday morning and kilt up for faire. At this point, my daughter tells me she doesn't want to go to faire (and being marginally intelligent I deduce it's because of the lack of garb) to which I respond with my normal kindly father-like advice and tell her "get your weed puller up, we bought a ticket and you're going!". Yes, I sometimes speak to my daughter like this, no, don't judge me. :) Of course, she also has no idea that I am considering spending money on her.
Momma has her own plan of travel for the day so I drag the kiddo with me and our first stop is Ravenswood, ostensibly because I needed something. I tell her "hey there's a rack over there wil stuff on sale, go take a look." She heads over and I give her some time by herself, long enough it appears that one of the fine young ladies working has asked her if she wants some help. I actually hear my daughter say "my Dad told me to look but I probably won't be able to get anything". "Muahhaaha, victory is mine" I think and I continue to meander through the store. When the salesmaiden steps away, I catch her eye and motion for her to come over where my daughter can't see us and tell her "Look, I don't have a lot to spend, but I'd like her to be able to get a bodice, if you can help her pick one from the rack she likes, we'll get it". She nods and goes back to work. A little later I wander over and the kiddo is gushing about this bright red bodice which she has tried on and I so I ask her if she thinks we should get it. Her eyes go about as wide as coffee saucers she says "really?" and I tell her "sure". Salesmaiden begins to help her get out of the bodice and asks her what she will wear with it when my daughter explains that this is her first piece. "Well we can help you with that right now" says salesmaiden. Suddenly I realize my plan is going horribly, horribly wrong as I don't have the money for a full set of garb. Now I am thinking after making her day, I am going to have to crush her dreams once again. Here I am signaling the salesmaiden from behind my daughter with like a horrified "no, no, no money" look and she looks at me and says "Don't worry, I promise it will be fine. Just give me 15 minutes and come back." I try as tastefully as possible to again explain that I don't have that kind of money and she literally shoes me away.
Resigned to my fate, I wander off to find a beer and I begin thinking how I am going to explain that while I can get the bodice, I can't get anything else today, and since I am sure she'll be wearing it at the time, she'll have to make the trek of shame to go remove all her glorious new garb. I finish the beer, and get another to properly steel myself and go back to Ravenswood where they are just finishing up and out walks my daughter, of course blowing me away in the bodice and a new skirt and top. I slam said second beer and tell my daughter how awesome she looks, and she is grinning from ear to ear. I steel myself and start "kiddo, you look awesome, but I don't think I can..." at which point the salesmaiden says "That will be $140 m'lord" and I am stunned. "$140 for what, just the bodice right, I thought it was on sale?", I say. "No, no, for all the pieces." She says. I ask again "Seriously?", and she replies "yes" again. I whip out my debit card and pay on the spot as my daughter is dialing her mom on the cell phone to tell her the news. I can say I honestly almost cried as I told the woman "thank you" because my daughter was so honestly thrilled with it all.
I know this comes off damn close to an ad for Ravenswood, but maybe it should. After the way we were treated by their staff, they will be my first stop during every trip to faire. My only regret is that I can't for the life of me remember the salesmaiden's name, though I will recognize her on sight. The best part of that whole day is that I could do no wrong by my daughter. One thing you new fathers of daughters will learn very quickly is this: when something is wrong you are "Dad" (or sometimes worse) but when everything is right in the world you are "Daddy". I was "Daddy" the whole day and most of the next week too! :D
WOW, Lech... i didn't think you could string that many words together and have it sound half arse intelligent! :D Just kidding, bro.
It really made your day making your youngin happy, didn't it? i wondered why you looked so geeked out when i saw you later that day. Good job, man! ;)
*Off topic, Ravenswood gets nothing but praise in my book*
Its only because I am at work and can't drink at work! Don't you have some Lokie to make?
Quote from: Mead Swilling Lech on July 23, 2010, 01:59:47 PM
Its only because I am at work and can't drink at work! Don't you have some Lokie to make?
3rd batch going into the bottle tomorrow night.
Great stories! Little boys do pretty much the same things when in diapers, they just have 'fountain streams' that decide to go off when a diaper is removed lol. *Wow! Look at that arch!* :D
Fraser, exactly how many bottles of Loki do you have now? My goodness it seems like that is all you and Jake have been doing lately. :)
Quote from: Bonny Pearl on July 24, 2010, 10:15:03 AM
Great stories! Little boys do pretty much the same things when in diapers, they just have 'fountain streams' that decide to go off when a diaper is removed lol. *Wow! Look at that arch!* :D
Fraser, exactly how many bottles of Loki do you have now? My goodness it seems like that is all you and Jake have been doing lately. :)
Well, we are at 4 gallons and still have 4 to go. We'll be done next weekend. ;D
Wow!
lol...too funny
Breandan, my advice for the clothing issue: thrift stores and garage sales are your friend! Also, if you know people with babies slightly older than yours, hand me downs are wonderful also! don't spend tons of money at fancy department stores!
There is never a lack of entertainment when you are a new parent!
doesn't help that she' a little over three months old and already wearing 6 month clothes >.<
The baby I nanny for just turned 7 months old and has been wearing 9-12 and regular 12 for over a month already. They are the only sizes that are long enough for his lankiness. I wonder where he gets his height from as both parents and their families are all short.
I learned when mine were little that the "Child of mine" clothing from Wal-Mart or Target are great for long babies.
Okay
From the grandfather files, that's right, I have a grandson (Drake) who is 8, and a granddaughter (Addison) who is four. Here are some of the things to expect,
A piece of birthday cake fits inbetween two books on the bookshelf if they try hard enough.
A splash, followed by "Uh Oh" is not a good thing.
EVERYTHING can fit in the toilet.
Questions like "why does poo poo float?, and "her boobies are bigger than my mommies" will come in a crowded but quiet place, always.
The dog will eat anything the child will eat, and they both like to share.
Marcos
yeah, oops and uh-oh are never good, or long periods of quietness!
"long periods of quietness"
THIS x10!!! You know the saying "an officer should never worry when his soldiers are bitching, but if they're not, he should be very concerned", well, it applies 100 times more to kids.
-At some point they will possibly decide not to garb. This will probably be after you've spent some money on garb for them. Thankfully he's at the point we can trade stuff between ourselves.
-You will probably have to have a talk after every faire visit. It will probably start like this: 'You know that word you heard? Don't say it in public!'
-Get use to looks from people who think you've abandoned your kid on a bench or left them to wander around unsupervised. I got the 'Look O' Death' from a lady after I went quickly to the FoF area to get more gatorade for my slightly dehydrated son (He'd already sucked down a mug of water). I was gone no longer than 5 minutes, they were at a picnic bench eating & had I been the least bit worried about him I'd of sent DD. I wanted to tell the lady that my young daughter knew the ins & outs of faire better than she did & to back off!
Breadan, you are obviously using disposable diapers.
All three of my children (youngest is now 30) were raised on cloth diapers. Can you imagine the joy of scraping the green goo off the diaper and then rinsing off the worst in the toilet and then depositing said smelly cloth in the diaper pail for later washing?
We tried a diaper service for the second child (only Son), but after a month or so of shelling out a vast amount of money, decided to go back to the old scrape and squeeze method.
Oh yes, remember changing Son's diapers. He would wait until the old diaper was off and cleanup completed and then as the cold air hit his "sprinkler", it would rise up and deliver a fountain. He actually giggled when this happened.
Remember youngest Daughter being able to pack some really green and noxious goo in the place where Dad hesitate to scrape. I think the Wife thought it was funny.
On a related note: bought Daughter an expensive gypsy garb at TRF about 10 years ago. Next morning, Aunt Flow arrived apparently unexpectly, and $200 down the drain so to speak.
We have the best of both worlds, we use G diapers