DaD DnD

     In early December, something miraculous happened, which would change how I saw my life.

     That's right, my old dungeonmaster told me he was gonna start taking college courses, and wouldn't have much time to plan out our games!  This changed EVERYTHING.
     Long ago, when I was a douchebag, (so, high school era,) I tried to be the DM for a Dungeons and Dragons group.  I was awful, and had no idea what I was doing.  In fact, I'm pretty sure you guys don't know what I was doing, either, so let me explain.

     Dungeons and Dragons is a game where you and some other dweebs get together and play fake battles on a grid, using paper, pencils, and dice.  Among these dweebs is one king dweeb, who is called the Dungeonmaster.  The Dungeonmaster/DM/King Dweeb is in charge of all the enemies everyone fights, is in charge of placing helpless citizens in tall towers to be saved, is in charge of filling treasure chests with gold pieces and magic doohickeys, and is in charge of placing dragons in front of said chests.
     The game is pure storytelling, at its best form.  Everyone participates to create a story where everyone is a hero (or a total a-hole to each other, but hey--whatcha gonna do?).  So, when my good friend, King Jared of the Dweebs, announced that the sessions were gonna be taxing on him, I did my best not to jump out of my seat and shout, "AND MY AXE!"  (Roll a 12-sided die for damage!)
     So, I took over responsibilities.  I figured, Hey, I'm at home all the time anyways.  I bet I'll probably even enjoy making these adventures.  As it turns out, I was way way WAY beyond right.
     Sure, it's hard to actually write out my ideas when I've got a baby strapped to my chest, who demands that I never sit down, and never stop bouncing, or else he'll attack with sonic damage (sorry, king dweeb here; that means he'll scream until my ears bleed).  But when I'm just walking around doing household chores, I've discovered that my thoughts can't help but think about the fantasy world I hope to immerse my buddies in every third Monday at my place.
     I've had two sessions so far.  I've been nervous each time.  I'm hoping the players couldn't tell that only half of my sweat was from the infant's warm, heavy snoring into my shirt.

     This experience...probably ranks embarrassingly high as far as my "best moments of Woody's life" listing goes.  They fought my monsters, we celebrated their victories, we laughed at their failures, and I totally tricked them all with a duplicitous character that they had come to trust in the couple hours before she stuck a poisoned sword into Jared's back!  Take that, ex-king dweeb!  There's a new DM in town!

     If there's a lesson here, (which there should be, considering I need a conclusion,) it's this: As a parent, your hands are often incredibly full.  But your mind is free to wander, as long as you don't forget to do all those things that keep your baby alive.  So, why not fill your mind with imagination, with stories, or with fantasy worlds that you get to share with people you know?

Losing it: a common theme for parents everywhere

     I've been a dad the better part of three months, and I think I'm handling it just fine.  I don't feel like my social life has been stunted, but there are several things about myself that sure are signs of me going crazy.  But isn't that part of being a parent?

#1: Reading Batman in "baby talk"     

     So, right now, at the prime age of crazy young, this kid should hear language, not for specific decoding, but for general comprehension of feeling.  He needs to learn that sounds have meaning, but he doesn't need to know what all those meanings are.  He's still working on his name.  And apparently, (and this truly disappointed me,) "baby talk", when you talk in a high register, is easier for them to understand.  Now, I don't want to read Dr. Seuss to him yet, because I might as well be reading an entry from the Encyclopedia Britannica.  It's all Greek to DanPar.  So, I just read aloud whatever I usually read.  And so, for the last couple weeks, I've been reading Batman.  Cutesy Batman, as he faces off against cutesy villains, who take cutesy hostages, and, well, you get the point.

Tortured past superhero + cute positive happy baby voice = Dad's going off the deep end

#2: Being okay with poo     

     Diapers are disgusting.  Well, let me tell you, that's the first misconception that you get over in the first week of being a parent.  Because babies are on an all-liquid diet (it doesn't work, he's almost doubled his weight!), their poo doesn't smell too bad.  It smells more like oatmeal that's beginning to turn.  And because in one month, I'd changed literally hundreds of diapers, poo is no big deal; the only difference is that we need to clean him up a little better.  (Also, in one instance we had, we needed to wash the curtains before they stained.)  Poo no longer being gross is my second point to show you that I am losing it.




#3: Getting angry at a baby     

     If you're going to list off all the different ways that a 2 month-old can get on your nerves, it's actually not going to be a long list.  He can't go off and rob a liquor store, he can't say mean things behind your back, he can't even go to college just to drop out and start a doomed-to-fail band in your basement.  But babies don't need a long list.  They need just one item, to get you where it hurts; to make you feel inadequate, to make you lose sleep, to make you unable to think about anything else.  They can cry for no obvious reason.  Little baby DanPar can cry for hours, no matter what I do.  I'll change him, feed him, bounce him, talk to him, lay him down, read to him, and he'll just keep on crying his head off.  And all babies have a powerfully sad and unique cry.  DanPar's special ability is crying until he's out of breath, and continuing to cry even when he's out of air, as if he refuses to inhale until his unknown needs are met.  Babies are a lot of work.  But there's nothing wrong with taking 20 minutes to go do something else and make sure you don't lose your temper.  It's insane, but yes, you can get mad at something only 11 pounds, wearing a fuzzy onesie.
(Quick note here: Two other things that babies can do to get on your nerves: pooping on your curtains, and grabbing your hair with an impressive baby death-grip.)


#4: Realizing that you created a human     

     So, babies.  I used to think of them as human larvae, and still do on most days.  But every once in a while, I'll realize that this baby is totally human.  He's here.  He's even getting a personality (which, unfortunately, doesn't like the music I listen to).  He's learning to play.  He sticks his tongue out when he tries to smile.  He holds his pacifier in his mouth when he wants it, or spits it about a foot away when he doesn't.  He looks at me when I'm talking to him, and when we fly around the house, he'll find some things fascinating.
It's crazy that babies are humans.  And it's crazy every moment that I realize that this baby is 50% me.




#5: Not knowing which of you your spouse is talking to     

     Quick fifth one here.  My beautiful wife Jessi, who keeps me sane more than she knows, calls our baby "honey".  Well, that's also MY name.
     So, when I hear her say, "Honey, can you help me?", I come running.
     Then, "I need you to let me dress you," I slow down, but hey--I wear PJs and t-shirts every day; it could still be me she's talking to.
     And finally, "Don't you want a fresh diaper on?"  That's when I stop.  Hopefully, by the time I have to hear that from my wife, my son will be a multinational philanthropist who found an efficient way to desalinate ocean water and quickly transport that water inland to people in need, from a start-up business with a few close friends.  (Jessi and I discussed it, that's what we're shooting for.)

4 baby power-ups!

     So, earlier this morning, I thought about how nice it would be if I didn't need to burp my kiddo every single time he ate.  So, I kept on thinking about that, and I came up with a few power-ups that I wish I had, as a parent of a 2-month old.

The Babylfish                       

     When you have a baby, who just sits there most the day, you REALLY wish that you could talk to him.  Something that I learned from the Sims: you can improve your desire for social interaction by talking to a baby!  Something I was disillusioned to find out: no, you can't.  The baby will look around with incomprehension, even as you try to explain to it why you've never played Final Fantasy VII until now.  With this power-up, your baby will understand what you say, and sometimes even nod.  I spend every waking minute with this little guy.  That's all I ask for.

The Dadelfish                       

     Allow me to quote my son from yesterday, as I was holding him.  *Ahem*.  "Waaaaaaaahhh!!!  Oo!  Oo!  Waaaaaaahhhh!!!"  Don't you wish that you could have a fish wriggle inside of your ear and translate that incessant screaming into, "Hey, my dear father, I'm beginning to feel a tad peckish.  Be a good man and thaw out some boob juice, could you?"  Or, "I hate to be a bother, sweet father, but I've kicked off my socks again, and now my feet are cold."  Or, "Excuse me, father mine, but I've been thinking about mother, and how much of a better snuggler she is than you.  So yeah."

The "Say Cheese"                
      I have probably about a thousand photos of my son.  None of them are smiles.  The closest I've gotten to getting a smile is my little guy sticking his tongue out.  (I'll add it to the comments; it's a pretty good picture.)  But sometimes you just want the little bugger to give you a truly gleeful smile, to make you feel like you're doing this whole "parenting" thing correctly.  And it wouldn't hurt if you got to snap a couple pictures of it, and show off to your family how awesome you are at this whole "parenting" thing.

The Rip Van Baby                 

     In the last two months, I have not slept for 4 hours in a row.  It's because of this little guy.  4 hours is a big stretch for him, too, and it's a lucky night when we get that much sleep.  So, this last power-up (for now, these are too much fun to make) is a magical power-up that makes your baby SO TIRED that he sleeps for a whole TWELVE HOURS.  Can you imagine what that means, as a parent?  You're free to do whatever you want!  Everything that you've missed out on by taking care of this little human larva is yours!  You can do just about anyZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....

Before DanPar

     My kid's great.  I'll be honest, I'm pretty sure he's cooler than 19 kids all put together.  And trust me, I know something about kids.
     Second grade, specifically.  Before our little bundle of joy came to the world, I was an ESL teacher for little 8 and 9 year-olds.  It was my third year of teaching, and I was just figuring out the right way to teach.  I had read a lot of material, and after a while, it came into my skull that kids need to have a procedure.  It expedites learning. it makes them feel more secure, and it shows them examples of how to behave, every day.

     ...that said, what are you supposed to do if you're an 8 year-old kid who came in to learn some English, only to find that COMMISSIONER GORDON NEEDS YOUR HELP BECAUSE POISON IVY IS TAKING OVER DENVER?!??!??!??!?

That's right, y'all.  My classroom was in the Aurora, Colorado Batcave.  And when I, from my pocket, turned on a projection screen that shined the Batsignal, everything changed.  Kids screamed with delight, and then they screamed because Commissioner Gordon (starring my brother) began to tell them what they needed to do.
     Of course, it was all educational, and we used prepositions to find the plants that were hiding across Colorado.  But man, I had them in the Bat-palm of my Bat-hand!

     But there's something changing about today's society.  Women are finding themselves better and better work, and my awesome wife Jessi just so happens to have an awesome job.  She's a civil engineer, and it makes significantly more than an ESL teacher at a charter school.  (Plus, she did love her job more.)  It was fair, and we both agreed that I'm definitely stay-at-home material, with the bonus of having experience with kids.
     So, almost exactly a week before DanPar came on the scene, I resigned my job.  They had 3 months' warning, and I knew that they'd find someone probably more effective than me.  But I was just finding my stride.

     No hard feelings towards my boy; being a Dad is so much more than being a teacher, if you ask me.  And just last week, I went back to school to show off the greatest 2 month-old on the planet.  And you know what?  My replacement still has the sign above my old room, proudly proclaiming, "The Batcave."

Dad Skillz: How to feed a baby and play videogames all at once!

     Howdy, and welcome to Dadmaster!  I'm Woody!  Life is awesome!

     I'm a dad!  An awesome stay-at-home dad, and it's really great.  My kiddo is a little over 2 months old now, and I have to say, life has changed.

     But not TOO much.

     Yes, there's a new life that my wife and I created.  (Mostly my wife.  I helped.)  Yes, he needs to be fed, changed, lifted, held, and taught how to someday do all these things on his own.  But honestly, I'm still me.  Life is still happening.

     And let me give you one of my proudest achievements as a dad.  I am a genius.  And I have discovered how to play videogames with one hand, while feeding the kiddo (DanPar the Magnificent) with the other.
     We're not talking point-and-click videogames, either.  (Although there's nothing wrong with that.)  We're talking FPS.  Borderlands, specifically.

     Sure, it gets a little crazy, especially not being able to strafe or back up, or, you know, pause, but I am telling you TODAY, that Borderlands so far ranks at #1 for videogames to play when you just had a kid!

     So, follow along, as I tell you about life as a stay-at-home dad.  Trust me, it's a lot of fun!  (And if you're lucky, I'll post a picture of my little DanPar!

Enjoy life!

-Woody