Meet My Daughter, She’s a Poop Wizard
All Smiles After a Huge Poop
My daughter's favorite pastime is standing up, grabbing onto a table leg, squatting down and unleashing a poop while she grunts, groans and turns red in the face. Usually, she performs this feat while meeting people for the first time. It seems like whenever we have guests over, that's when she decides it's time to poop, as if she's been holding it in all day, storing it up really good, just hoping that somebody new will come by so she can fill the room with the fresh aroma of poop and entertain our guests with her look of anguish and strain as she attempts to push a brick out of her butt.
"Would you like to meet my daughter? Yes, that's right. She's the little girl who is currently filling her pants with a load of crap."
D.
Home from the Hospital
Baby J. and I in the Hospital
I started thinking about our trip home from the hospital, after Baby J. was born. It was probably the second most terrifying experience I've had as a driver (the first would be a time I had to take Baby J. in for a check up, and we were experiencing heavy snow and high winds). It was also a crazy experience. My wife and I both realized that Baby J. was our baby, but to think the hospital was actually going to let us drive away with her? The idea was absurd. How could medical professionals actually entrust us with the safety of a baby? What were they thinking? Sure, we'd read all the books. We'd studied up on everything there is to read about babies. We received all the advice we could have ever wanted from a hundred different people. But that's hardly preparation for having a baby. Shouldn't I have needed a medical license of some kind? At least a PhD., right?
And yet, there we were, driving away from the hospital at a brisk 15mph (I didn't want to go too fast until we were in a less trafficked area), my heart racing like I'd just run a 5k, glancing every 1.3 seconds into the rear view mirror to make absolutely, positively sure that my 3 day old daughter was still in the car. She was there all right, snug in a giant pink winter coat, sleeping soundly, while my wife sat next to her, probably sharing a lot of my thoughts.
Boober in Her Pink Coat
I know everyone goes through this, but that was the day I stopped feeling like I was 12 years old. Ever since my twelfth birthday, I haven't really felt like I've grown up. Sure, I kept getting bigger. I moved out of my mom's home. I got married. Started a career. But none of that ever felt real. It was always like I was still a little kid playing house with my cousin at my grandmother's, like all the cooking, and going to work every day, and paying the bills was make believe, as if at any moment, I could close my eyes and then upon reopening them, I'd be back home with my backpack and a bag lunch about to stand outside and wait for the school bus to come.
But that all changed when Baby J. arrived. Watching her delivery, holding her for the first time, falling instantly in love with the most precious thing I'd ever seen, like the grinch, my heart suddenly grew three sizes that day, until I was barely able to contain it within my chest. She was my boober, a tiny little, 7lb. 7oz really wonderful responsibility that made me realize I could never go back home again, and more so, it made me realize I'd never want to, because for as long as I live, Baby J. is my home.
D.
What’s with nicknames?
My Boober
After spending these last 9 months with my beautiful Baby J., I've come to realize that I'm addicted to giving her nicknames. Does everyone do this with their baby? One of my favorite nicknames for her is "Boober". Why Boober? Because I'm a big fan of Fraggle Rock of course. But it doesn't stop there! Some of my better nicknames include:
- Bubba
- Junior Jumble
- Sugar Boots
- Honey Bunny
- Baby Bear
- Pumpkin
- Punky Monkey (which I should add was the nickname my mother gave me as a child, maybe that's where this all started...)
The reason I bring this up is, I used to worry that all these nicknames would result in a one year old who had no idea what her name was. Somehow, I lucked out, because from an early age she responded to her name.
If anyone out there reads this, let me know some of your favorite nicknames that either you had as a kid or that you've given to your own kids. I'm curious if I'm the only one who overdoes it in the nickname department. I'm also curious if anyone else has ever been called "Punky Monkey".
Back when I was called Punky Monkey
D.
