Love and children

Love and children.

I didn't fall in love with DanPar at first sight. The first words he heard from me were, "Man, that is one goopy baby." But what I don't often mention is that I said that, because he was gray, and after the entire ordeal of labor, I was just trying to lighten the mood, especially because I was worried he wasn't going to turn out all right. Babies aren't supposed to be gray, right?

That's about the feeling every new parent has, right?

One of the best parts, staying at the hospital after his birth, was when they measured his temperature, and it seemed a bit low, so they took him for a few hours. We could finally sleep. Not exactly what new parents are supposed to think, right?

Well, that's how things started with my son. He was a weird-looking thing that we were now in charge of. Luckily, in my head, as soon as we took him home, he turned from inconvenience to joke. We would laugh about how I had to stay up reading Batman to him. We would watch him squirm in his alien body, and we'd laugh at how crazy this whole thing was. That's when I made a decision to laugh at all the times he drove me crazy. This, by the way, was a magical decision. It's the reason I started the blog.

The feeling is mutual, DAD.

So, he came into this world first as an inconvenience. Not great, but not unusual for new parents, especially with a tough delivery. Then he became a joke. That was progress, but it certainly wasn't love yet.

But he became something I had put a lot of time and effort in. I started going the extra mile. At first, I took him to the library storytime because he was REALLY cute, and I needed to show him off, and also because I had nothing better to do. But eventually, if we missed a storytime, I would clear out a space on the floor, grab a few books, and we'd have our own storytime. I realized I had memorized all the songs from storytime.

I knew all the toys he liked. I knew where he liked to have tummy time. I had fallen in love with my kid over his first few months without even realizing it. And that's when I became a parent.

I think one thing's for sure. I needed other people. I needed my wife to be there with me, or else I wouldn't have had anyone to laugh with. I needed our families to look after the kiddo for a few hours, or even for a couple minutes. And heck, I even needed all those strangers looking at me, JUDGING ME (at least as a new parent, I assumed they were), because it made me want to be on my best behavior. And even in those showy circumstances, I faked it, and I maked it. And now I find myself singing little baby songs to other people to talk about what I'm doing, even if the boy is miles away. Why? Because I have the sweetest little guy in the world, who has a big smile on his face when he hears me come into his room in the morning, who holds up his arms for me to pick him up when he's feeling sad, and because he's my boy.

And nothing will ever change that.

DanPar's first No-shave November!

Regarding the month or so since my last post:
I've been programming a game. It's gonna be awesome. My stand-in character is Dadmaster, and it's pretty awesome.

Gonna be so awesome! (Hype hype hype hype!)

Here at my residence, we have house rules for "No-shave November", or what some call "Novembeard", or what those manlier than I simply call "November".
The rules:
-You can shave your neck. Nobody needs that.
-You can trim for comfort reasons. Some of us have mustaches that love venturing northward into our nostrils.
-If it's a straight up competition, you start out clean shaven, and on December 1st, beards are judged by third parties for thickness, coverage, and length.

Now, DanPar this year is one of those manly men who doesn't shave AT ALL. So, here are some pictures of possible outcomes:

The "before" picture

The wolfman

The sheriff

The Dali

The evil twin

The friendly mutton chop

The hobo

The Renaissance man

The sensei

The Super DanPar Bro

The whiplash

Personally, I'm just hoping his facial hair comes out a lot less...colorful than his head hair. (I just keep telling myself it's Bronco colored.)
Good luck to all you hairy monsters!
-Guy who totally teared up at the end of Wreck-It Ralph...twice

Note to self:

Mom spit can remove any smudge.
Dad sweat? Not so much.

Anyone else looking forward to cooler weather?

Getting my flu shot!

Receptionist: "All right, we're all done here! You and your boy can go!"
Woody: "Well, I saw you give a few of those other kids some suckers."
Receptionist: "Oh, yes. Is your baby old enough to have hard candy?"
Woody: "Uh, well, he isn't..."

I can't believe I'm considered an adult sometimes.

Your new desktop picture!

Fits on 1920x1080 screens!

You know it's the cutest picture ever.

Why resist?

Buying a ball for the DanPar!

One of DanPar's contemporaries/cousin-in-laws/just-cousins-maybe, Jaxton, is six months older than him. His first word? Ball. (Jody, if I'm wrong, sorry!) But you know what? My boy didn't even have a ball! So, yesterday, I went to the store to remedy that.

 But in the kids' section, I found balls for nine bucks. Like WHAT? That's the price of a legit soccer ball, yo! Kids' toys are crazy marked up!

So, that wasn't happening. But one aisle over, and what do I find, but an eight-pack of plastic practice baseballs! And in such a fun neon color! Oh, and for half the price of one stinkin' toy ball.

So what else was I gonna do?
I think I made the right choice.

Outtakes!

The best news from the doctor ever!

Gee, Woody, is DanPar actually really big?
Haha, nope! He's still below average on everything size-wise!

Well, golly, did they find out he's not truly a redhead?
Haha, nope! Cheeto hair is what my boy will always have!

Gosh, does this mean what I think it means?
YOU BET YOUR FACE IT DOES!!!

"Well, he should pretty much be eating whatever you guys are eating."

THAT MEANS...

So, to me, this is one of the things that makes him more of a person. Still not walking, still not talking, but MY BOY AND I CAN SPLIT A QUESADILLA, and that means a lot to a food-loving dude like me!

Also, audiobooks are wonderful. I can't believe I'm going to have to start watching for foul language soon, though. PARENTING AHH

The overly sensitive rubber duck

    Bathtime's tough. So, to help out, we got a duck that lets us know when the water is too hot! We've been informed, though, that those things are pretty much useless. I swear, this duck tells us it's way too hot when it's right around tepid.

     So, we came up with a few alternatives that would mean just as much for this touchy ducky!

DanPar, improver of memes!

Ancient Aliens Guy!

Sudden Clarity Clarence!

Grumpy Cat!

Ridiculously Photogenic Guy!

Dadmaster Bistro #2: Fiesta Chicken Kiev

Let's get cooking!

     Once again, I have taken the challenge of cooking a meal using only the microwave? Why? Because I used to be incredibly lazy. My idea of a meal was a quick quesadilla and two packs of ramen noodles. All in the microwave. I'm not going to say that these skills were at all unique. But are they useful? Yes. And I'm proving it AGAIN.

     So, once again, we return to "The Microwave Guide & Cookbook", an ancient tome that still refers to this household device as a "microwave oven" and tells you to use a "power level" that is not just the highest setting. (Which is probably somewhere upwards of NINE THOUSAND!!!!!!! "What, 9000?!" )

Let's cook

Fiesta Chicken Kiev!

Isn't Kiev the capital of Ukraine?

     This was gonna be good.  Because it seemed a little lacking in veggies, I made a nice salad to go along with it, with hardboiled eggs.  "But Woody," I hear you saying ALL THE WAY FROM WHEREVER I AM RIGHT NOW, "I thought you were only allowed to use the microwave!  And now you're saying you hardboiled eggs?"
     Yep.  10 minutes on high, covered in water, with a tablespoon of salt.  Let sit 2 minutes, put in cold water, and peel.  HARDBOILED EGGS IN THE MICROWAVE WHAT NOOOOOOOOWWWWWWW???

*~*~*~*~*~*

The Recipe:

So, looking at this recipe, it calls for monosodium glutamate. Apparently, it hadn't fallen out of fashion to call for this questionable ingredient. Luckily, I just so happened to have some "steak seasoning", where the first two ingredients are salt and msg!

*~*~*~*~*~*

The Result:

I know. It looks ugly as sin. I know. This is just a picture of the leftovers. But trust me, it didn't matter. The entire dish resembled orange lumps with lumps on them.
So, cooking meat in the microwave makes me nervous. Especially thick meat. Especially chicken. But I checked it several times, just to make sure that I wasn't going to foodally poison Jessi and myself.
Also, if you haven't crumbled Cheez-its (or some generic version of it) on chicken, you are missing out. This is a strategy that I knew about in college. Oh yeah.
But!  How did it taste???

*~*~*~*~*~*

The Reaction:

     This time, I was unable to hide the fact that the chicken was cooked in the microwave. "This is completely ridiculous," Jessi started, but finished with, "but this is really good."
     The hardboiled eggs also turned out perfectly. I know, I know, I'm not sure it counts as boiling them either. But in the microwave, it's timed for you! You don't need to worry that you might accidentally forget about them and ruin your college roommate's saucepan by boiling away the water and cooking incredibly hard hard-boiled eggs in their shell! (Sorry, Curtis!)

What say you, old picture of Bachelor Woody?