Old Duffer Dad

Welcome to Babyland

2005-01-02T13:15:00.000-08:00

S______ is lying in Old Duffer Dad's lap in the Chair; her perfect miniature hands touching his; perfect teeny fingers grasping his thumb. It's Book Time. Percival the Catepillar. See how her face lights up when she sees the shiny bumblebees or the lizard's sparkling tongue. Her hands awkardly reach for the book, touching the glimmering cut-out sections, which are soft.

But after a while both of them seemed to be plumb tuckered out and lean back in the Chair for a nap. It doesn't get much sweeter than this, reader. Sometimes, if he's still got any strength to spare during the course of a day, the Old Duffer is able to grab his current book (The Cave by Jose Saramago) and read while S______ sleeps on.

You could say that things have moved along since that fretful first day. Things flow now, much of the time. Bottle feeding, whether with the real deal or Enfamil are just fine by S______.

Since the last post a few months ago, we can report mounds of poop and gallons of pee and and drool and farts galore (much more on each of these topics soon).

S______ likes to lie on her back and roll around on the rug, but then gets frustrated at not being able quite yet to turn over. Old Duffer Dad likes to roll around with her, his old weary head near hers. She always laughs at him. As long as he can keep her laughing all seems right with the suffering world.

Why ODD can barely turn over himself, let alone stand back up, what with all the goodies and single malt scotch over the holidays.

Today

2004-10-20T08:24:00.000-07:00

Can it really be? Can today really be the first day that Old Duffer Dad is home solo with the baby, from beginning to end? The answer is yes. Though his wife's been giving him some time to adjust by getting into the city during the day, she's NEVER been gone as long as she will be today--from 7:30 am to (approx.) 6:30 pm.

And there have been some hairy moments. It's the feeding thing. The Old Duffer just doesn't have a real functioning nipple on his chest and little S______ sure knows which is which. She'll turn her head back and forth; she knows no.

Until the hunger pangs take over in the afternoon and she gives in, he's lucky to get a couple of ounces of mom's milk inside of her. She's pissed and any number of strategies to distract her haven't fared all that well.

But when S______ smiles at the poor old Duffer, fumbling along, loving her with all of his heart, he knows it will somehow all work out.

Basket Case

2004-10-20T07:50:00.000-07:00

10-10:30 am--the wail that never seems to diminish and sounds from the depths of her; tears the failed Duffer wipes from her eyes...along with his own...until acceptence of an ounce of milk, some cuddle time and sweet sleep (hers). He's a basket case.

No She Says

2004-10-20T07:35:00.000-07:00

After her morning sleep (and too sleepy for a feed from the breat this morning) S______ wails and wails at the first attempt at a bottle. Old Duffer Dad feels defeated but realizes that it will probably take hours until she'll accept the plastic substitute--let alone its contents from a fumbly source.

Joy

2004-09-25T14:19:00.000-07:00

The countdown is on. In less than a month Old Duffer Dad will find himself home and not alone. The wife returns to Corporate and her sister's interning at the American Museum of Natural History, where ODD worked for several years in the Photo and Film Archive before his change of status to full-time Dufferhood.

He has come a long way, the Duffer has, but there's still a long ways to go. Never an end to the ins and outs, the million and one variables of childcare, especially for one who has begun from zero. Yep, one thing's for sure: ODD still has a long way to go. But let it be said, as this is the time to be saying it, the Old Duffer has shown a modicum of progress--he can give S______ a bottle (which, thankfully, she will accept); slap a little Desitin on that rashy bottom; change a diaper with the best of them, and even negotiate a onsie, a truly harrowing challenge.

Most of all, though, Old Duffer Dad has fallen in love. He's been given charge of a little bundle from heaven and accepts this responsibility with gratitude and humbleness, with a joy in his heart.

Sweet

2004-09-15T11:17:00.000-07:00

The sweet moments are piling up. S______ in his arms, her little face looking up at the Old Duffer with those big blueish/slate-gray eyes--the final color to be determined (green, they think, as he and his wife both have them--though his are, officially, hazel). Comforting S______ in the deep of the night while she's nestled in the crook of his arm, fending off another colic onset. Holding her to his chest and bouncing about, the one sure thing to soften the blows of the occasional discomfort of being born into a strange new body and a stranger new world.

Rest

2004-09-04T14:27:00.000-07:00

Changing diapers, as all new parents must come to learn, is life itself. Babies are intensly focused pee and poop machines extraordinare; set on hyper-drive, the little darlings don't seem to take any breaks. Throughout the day, all through the night, those mangy fluids come forth like an endless super-saturated dream that dreams forever. There are surprises during changing that are beyond belief. Just when you thought it was safe and you were ready to put on the diaper--"Oh my god, a gusher!"

At the moment the Old Duffer is passed out on the couch. His wife's resting with S______ in the bedroom, while her sister is crashed in the loft. The Commentator, as well, bless him, is resting in the all-purpose Baby Chair, for he is no less sleep-deprived.

A Note to the Reader

2004-09-01T10:28:00.000-07:00

At this delicate juncture, with S______ born into the world, it's become apparant to the Commentator, as well as to Old Duffer Dad (goes without saying), that a note to the Reader is deemed necessary. The communication wished to be expressed is one which relates to a state of mind, if you will, a demeanor, perhaps, or something along those lines.

What the Commentator is trying to say, though fumbling terribly, is something to the effect that ANY words heretofore produced on this blog, each and every ghostly digital impression, are made manifest from an undeniably and overwhelmingly abundant, sleep-deprived consciousness. Surreal to the max. Especially after four feedings/changings a night. All night teamwork at it's finest.

To the legions of Readers of this blog, which include Gwyneth Paltrow (hi Apple!), the Cox-Arquettes (cuchee coo, Coco!), the little tennis darling of Andre and Steffi (watch that baseline, Jaz!), and Jason Lee's little Pilot Inspektor, we hope that you will remain with us, even comment from time to time about your own experiences, as this adjustment to a semi-hallucinagenic state of mind grows with every night's feeding and changing (detailed soon).

The Old Duffer really appreciates your continuing support and invites everyone, especially first-time fathers, young and old alike, to give us your two cents (or even a quarter) of wisdom and experience in the strange range of Fatherhood.

It

2004-08-24T11:13:00.000-07:00

S_______ born: August 25, 6:43 pm, 7.4 lbs, 20"... yippee. (for the darker side of this event see ODD's Secret Diary).

Oh

2004-08-07T13:38:00.000-07:00

Oh, you might want to know. Old Duffer Dad's attractive sister-in-law has moved into the spare room to help with the baby.

Waiting

2004-08-04T10:19:00.000-07:00

Old Duffer Dad's wife is lying back in the big cozy rocking chair, waiting. She's huge. They watch her rippling belly in amazement. Was that a little hand or foot? The Princess is due any time. The suitcase for the hospital sits by the door. When will the contractions begin? Wait, wait. Nature takes its course. The stroller is waiting, the Baby Bjorn's ready, the porto-baby shower can't wait to be occupied; diapers are lined up, waiting to be sacrificed; creams and lotions dying to be used.

Where did the time go? The baby shower ended on a high note, with ODD's wife smashing a colorful pinyata while everyone cheered. What a pinyata has to do with a baby shower is anybody's guess but she really had a swell time. While the gals whooped it up with their fancy catered foods and baby gifts, Old Duffer Dad was taken out by some guy friends for drinks. Lots of drinks. How many Dewars did the Old Duffer have? Enough to make George Plimpton proud. ODD had met the great man at the Explorers Club in New York, and he had promised to read one of the Duffer's unpublished novels. A couple of weeks later he had the nerve to die, suddenly. God rest his soul.

Clueless

2004-07-01T05:40:00.000-07:00

Athena, one of Old Duffer Dad's cats, has taken to sleeping on the baby-changing station with its soft, curved sides. She's also grown quite fond of sleeping inside the new crib, which is awaiting it's Princess in just a few weeks. Judging from her recent behavior, Athena has probably settled in for another good 6-8 hours of post-morning/late afternoon/early evening sleep. This does not discount, of course, nor diminish in the least, to be sure, the full 7 hours of sleep she enjoys every night with ODD and the wife on their bed. For the moment, though, Athena is delighted with her new-found sleeping spots, with no clue as to the changing of the guard.

The Benefits of Regular Exercise

2004-06-24T13:23:00.000-07:00

All moves towards the Final Push in a couple of months and Old Duffer Dad is mighty glad that he's not the one pushing. The Old Duffer is blessed to have a wife 20 years younger who's smart and beautiful and strong. "Keep those Kegels comin', Honey," he says, in his new-found role as "coach," following the Bradley approach to natural childbirth, all the while knowing that strengthing that muscle has another beneficial effect.

A husband is the best person to know what condition her (Kegel) muscle is in. Can she squeeze and hold your penis during intercourse? Don't criticize her, but encourage her to exercise regularly. (from Natural Childbirth the Bradley Way by Susan McCutcheon).

"Squeeze, Honey, squeeze."

A Gene Most Foul

2004-06-24T07:54:00.000-07:00

At the moment Old Duffer Dad has enough on his hands fixing up the apartment for his little Princess. Piles are everywhere. Mounds--drafts of unpublished novels and plays, Dramatist Guild Newsletters, old newspaper articles, his special books, lots of ephemera; a funny Mulder with Alien Invader toy, a Rosie Doll from fhe time he went to the show, even ODD's Barnes & Noble ID from a stint in New York. But the Princess is arriving and her Palace must be ready, such as it is, in a modest three flight walk up.

The Princess, of course, shall remain at home at all times under Old Duffer Dad's strict tutelage, never to mingle with the most foul genetic mutation ever unleashed on our chaotic planet, known as "boys", until at least the age of, say, 30?

Almost

2004-06-20T11:25:00.000-07:00

June 20th, Father's Day. Old Duffer Dad has gotten two Father's Day cards and even his own father wished him a happy Father's Day. One card was from his wife and one from an old friend. Sweet stuff. Old Duffer Dad almost feels like a father, let's get that straight, but he knows that he's not a real father yet. Even if he did feel the little one cruising inside his wife's belly last night.

Fluids

2004-06-07T16:40:00.000-07:00

Old Duffer Dad has held in his hand for the first time terrifyingly miniature objects--baby shoes and socks, as well as something called "onesies." He sees no way that any living creature's feet could actually be small enough to be delivered into them. He must fully realize that humans begin their long strange trip as itsy bitsy beings who don't even start out with a proper neck, for God's sake.

Old Duffer Dad touches his own cragged neck, which he himself can barely hold up sometimes, the weight of the world being what it is, with terrorists ravaging the earth. He has ominous inklings of what lies ahead, all enfolded into a single word that lights up every available brain cell still capable of firing in the throes of Dufferhood--fluids. Fluids he cannot imagine yet knows that he will soon be one with. Fluids that are probably better left unspoken of, because they will be something unspeakable.

Perhaps Old Duffer Dad had better relax with a scotch.

Therapy

2004-05-28T06:28:00.000-07:00

Has Old Duffer Dad, a soon-to-be first-time father at 52, ever held a baby in his life? Nope. Has he ever had the pleasure of changing a diaper? Nope. Does he know a gosh-darned thing about raising a child? Not in the least. And will he be home in a few months as the primary care giver when his wife returns to Corporate? Yep.

Old Duffer Dad has heard that there are something like 9 different "kinds" of poop to be deciphered.

Old Duffer Dad has come to learn about breast pumps and other strange devices by visiting baby stores with the wife. The Duffer's eyes glaze over while the wife seems to be in a dream; a kind of ecstasy.

Old Duffer Dad has felt and seen the little kicks of his daughter from placing his hand upon his wife's ever-expanding belly. The little gal's doing sommersaults. She's busy in there. She's got things to do.

Old Duffer Dad is going to have a daughter. Due in August.

"There's her vulva," said the technician. Which settled that.

Now Old Duffer Dad won't be going into therapy.