Rules for single Dads
For the last 2 ½ years, I have been the single father and sole caregiver of a very healthy, vivacious little blonde-haired, blue eyed bundle of girlish energy. I have learned some things that I suspect women know instinctively.
Guys, however, are not so fortunate. We need at least a “Heads-Up” before we can be expected to handle such a formidable challenge as raising a child single-handedly as it were.
Now I’m not saying I haven’t had help. I’ve had lots of it - from family, friends, and occasionally strangers I’ve met in the baby aisle at Wally-World.
Here are a few things for guys who may find themselves in this situation to remember.
1) When you are in the bottle/formula aisle for the first time, with no female of your own to rely on for answers, stand around reading labels, comparing products, and storing the information away for later and try to look ridiculously helpless. Trust me guys, it won’t be hard. Sooner or later, a mother, or better yet, a grandmother will come along. Don’t be shy, ask for her advice, or even downright help in choosing the right bottle for your baby. Listen to her advise on formula too. My Doctor had me use a particular formula for my daughter because she didn’t have a mother and no access to the nutrients that newborns get from breast milk, so that wasn’t a hard decision for me at all. The bottle however, I still shudder when I think of the trauma choosing the correct bottle for my daughter was.
Then there’s diapers. Guys you have no idea how many varieties of diaper there are. I know, you go there, or went there with your wife when your kids were little and it was no big deal. Let me tell you, that was because the only things you were thinking at the time was, “How much will this cost,” “ How much longer is this gonna take,” or/and “Look at her!” I know. I’ve been there with the first three. When I walked into the diaper aisle for the first time, it was “Oh My GOD! What do I do now?” Panicking, I looked around until I found a young woman with like, 12 toddlers in tow, and explaining my situation, asked her for her help. “How much does your baby weigh?” she asked, I said, “I don’t know, like 5 ½ pounds?” She looked at me for a minute, then deciding I was definitely lacking in the brains dept., she asked, “ Is your baby a Premie?” Knowing that she was indeed premature, I exclaimed, “Yes! She is a premie! Thank you!” She looked at me, “Well, calm down, I haven’t helped you yet. You have a lot to learn, don’t you? Look here at the packages, it tells you the diaper size and how many pounds the average baby is for that size, see?” I saw. They had cleverly placed the information I needed right there in plain sight! Why hadn’t I noticed that before? Amazed at my new discovery, I went to hug the nice lady. “Don’t touch me, bub,” she said, pushing me back, then towing her tribe around the corner, she turned back to me and said, “Good luck.”
Later, while talking with my sister, between her laughing and gsping for breath, I found out that it’s considered bad etiquette to hug a strange woman in Wal-Mart. Who’d have thunk it?
Car seats - These devices are not made for men to deal with. Read the instructions carefully. I know that violates guy code, but in this case its necessary. If you can, you may want to practice on a doll first. Get the idea in the living room of kitchen. Guys I’m not kidding, you have got to know exactly what you are doing by feel, from putting your little bundle of terror into his/her seat, to buckling him/her in. Meanwhile, little Johnny/Janie is going to be wriggling, crying, holding all of his/her toys, or so small that you’re afraid you may lose him/her in that huge car seat. The other main obstacle to happy-happy, joy-joy in car seating your kid is that back seats of automobiles are not built for a man’s shall we say, bulk? Yeah, that’s a good word, bulk. I’m not fat, I’m bulky! Sure, ok. I had a Lincoln Town car when my baby was little. Guess what? The back seat was exactly 2/3 of the size I needed to fit in there comfortably to attach my little angel to her safety seat. I can imagine the engineering crew up there at the acme car seat company snickering. I think they did this on purpose. I would kind of do an off hand pass of the baby into her seat, then while bracing myself on the seat with my off hand, I would fish around in there amongst my baby for the various straps, buckles and snaps needed to make her safe enough in the car for us to make a five-minute trip to the local convenience store. Meanwhile, I know that I’m under a time constraint, and as I miss that left-side strap for the third time, the twinges in my back are telling me that time is fast running out. Finally! After 3 ½ years of buckling the child into the car, I can stand up. No I can’t, my back is stuck. I look like a capital “L” upside down, waling around the driveway, cursing and rubbing my back for another 2 years, until I can straighten up again. Once we get to the store, the whole thing happens in reverse. After a couple times of this, you learn to plan your trips. To minimize the back aches. After a couple of hundred years of reaching in, placing and removing your child, you forget about back aches, you become an automaton, much the same as a lot of the mothers I’ve seen out there, inserting and extracting their very own little bundles of back pain, into their cars.
Fords law states that it is mathematically impossible to create a car which actually comfortably fits an approved safety restraint seat for small humanoids, and makes it easy for apes like us to attach and detach said small humanoids.
Colic - Colic happens guys. It happened to my child, it will happen to yours. You will begin feeling sorry for the little guy, holding him or her, patting, petting, bouncing and eventually crying with him/her, About the time you begin pounding your head on the wall and screaming out your despair, it will dawn on you to call for help. Now listen to this next piece of advice carefully: DO not bother to call your ex. She will only laugh and hang up on you. This is a rule. It is a rule of human behavior. Exes are cruel, God made them that way. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be your ex, and you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Go get some Karo syrup and some anti-gas medicine for children. Give little-bit a dose of the gas stuff, then follow it up with a nice bottle of formula, milk, or cola, whatever you deed your precious little bundle of….er…baby, mixed with Karo. About a teaspoon for 8 ounces. Then start burping said kid. It’ll come up eventually, and after 2 or 3 days of being awake and crying hysterically at each other, you and your baby can get a little sleep, you both deserve it. There is a “Guy Code” out there that men never cry. Generally this is true enough, or at least we tend to hide the tears, but guys, let me tell you, spend two or three days alone with a crying, screaming infant and you will break down.
Diapers, again - Never, ever put a finger down a diaper, sight unseen. You will regret having done so, and I guarantee you, guys, that whatever you use to take it off of your finger, will not remove the smell, or the memory of baby crap under your fingernail, even the stuff that’s strong enough to take off skin will not remove the smell.
On a related note. Say, after a year or two, you’re walking across your living room, or sit down on the couch. You will notice what appears to be a chocolate crumb. You will be tempted, and may even automatically pick it up. Guys normally find little crumbs like that and automatically put them in our mouths, usually surreptitiously, because we know that it’ll gross out our women-folk and we don’t need the lecture again. Gentlemen, I’m here to tell you that if you do place that little morsel in your mouth, it will break you forever of the habit. If your little bundle of joy happens to be 2 or 3 by the time this happens, and is nearby, you’ll hear a tiny, cutesy voice, saying, “Ewww, Daddy! Gross!” You will immediately find that as it melts in your mouth, not on your hand that it is indeed, “Ewww, Gross.” Please see the paragraph above pertaining to hand cleaning, but substitute the word “Mouth,” for the word “Finger.”
Language - A rule of child rearing, “If you say it, you will hear it repeated. If you do it, you will see it repeated.” Guys, those of you who’ve had the benefit of raising your little one with a partner, know that you can defer much of the embarrassment onto your significant other, or her family. If, however, you bear sole responsibility, having your little sweet angel sit up in church on Sunday and tell the Pastor, “Dammit!” in a clear, loud voice, just as he’s making an altar call is not a pleasant experience. Neither is it pleasant when you and your child are shopping at the grocery store, and the buxom young lady you’re been noticing comes near, and your little one who has never spoken a clear word in his or her life looks at you and utters these words, “Wow, Daddy! Look at them Hooters!!” You must understand that although they may not be able to speak clearly at present, they understand more than you think they do, and they have memories, and at night, when you think they’re sleeping peacefully, they are in fact, practicing.
There are so many other things I’d like to say, and so much more to cover, but I think this gives you an idea of what it’s like, and ladies, I bet it gave you a good chuckle. So, for now, I bid you adieu. (Besides, she’s getting up from her nap.)
