Another Baby Grrl! Labs™ Delivery — Credits

Hol and I (and BBG!) have been very fortunate that we’ve been able to spend just about all day, every day, together for the past three months. But, like all good things, our Summer of Joy has come to an end. Hol has returned to work this morning and I have become a SAHD for real.

I do, however, get to ease in to my new role — on Wednesday Frankie returns (this time with Grandpa Andy!), then the day Frankie and G’pa Andy leave cousins Isa and Joaquin show up with Uncle Diego and Aunt Annie to visit us and Annie’s family here in the STL, and about a week after that Aunt Kelly (aka Joshua’s Mama) shows up to stay with us for a couple of days. So, I’ll be a stay-at-home-but-not-alone-dad for a couple of weeks.

Meanwhile, Sabine, though she will certainly miss having Mom at her beck-and-call, will continue to keep busy refining her whole “Cute? Who? Me?” act throughout all this.

Another Baby Grrl! Labs Delivery — Credits

Note: This is some Granparent-grade sh*t. The rest of you have been warned.

A Baby Grrl Labs! Delivery — Credits

Keepin’ it real… real poopy.

An image of BBG!’s first ink (she sat for it like a sailor — tho she did cuss like one too).

And a video that made me smirk in a not unkind way. Enjoy?

Baby on wash-board? Not.

1. Hol regifted… she gave me the same baby I gave her for Mothers’ Day.

2. This is the least clothed (and most asleep) most of you will ever see me.

3. Did anyone think they’d ever see the day when I posted a picture of me a. asleep b. with a baby? c. asleep with a baby? Me either.

4. A couple of weeks ago I was holding Baby Sabine’s arms above her head and waving them from side to side and coaching her to encourage “all the party people in the house” (i.e. me and her mom) to say, “Hhhho!!!… Ho! Ho!… Now somebody screeeaaaammm!!!”

That is, I had thrown her hands in the air, was wavin’ ‘em like she just di’n’t care and was saying, “Somebody say, ‘Hhhho!!!’” etc. And, ho and be-ho-ld, she let out a little “hhaeow…”. Hol and I were both all, “Wha’?!? … Wha’!?!” Had Sabine just said her first word? At a month and change? Was her first word really “ho”? Did Daddy really just do that to his baby daughter? Really? Awesome!

Needless to say, we chilled ourselves out quickly, acknowledging what all you are likely thinking: Babies don’t talk at a month and a half. It is very likely that it was just her first semi-formed, semi-intentional bit of baby babble that dovetailed nicely with Daddy’s little hip-hop class.

The funny thing is, while she doesn’t do a lot of babbling yet, “hhaeow” has in fact turned out to be her babble of choice. So, it was with great joy that I received the most awesome and wonderful Fathers’ Day gift this morning. After Hol returned from walking the dogs and relieved me of the monkey on my chest, She sat in bed with Sabine while I took a shower. I came out of the shower to find Hol talking with BBG like we do —mixing in higher-level stuff like “who’s toes are these?” or, “who’s got poo-poos?” with the odd, “hhaeow” to let her know we’ll work with what she’s got— when Baby Grrl responded with a “hhaeow” of her own.

I looked at Hol to ask if I heard what I thought I heard to find her welled up with the tears of joy she gets when moved by her love of BBG (something I love to see more than just about anything these days), she turned to me with a slight smile… “She just said, ‘ho’.”

Grandma Lench - better known as “Frankie” to grandkids - arrived Thursday giving BBG! A third minion to do her bidding.

This sh*t is bananas. B–A–N–A–N–A-S!A Farce In One Act.

In which our hero, springs from bed at 6:45 AM from a relatively good night’s sleep (relative to his wife who now take the entire night shift, traveling to-and-fro from the domicile’s newly occupied crib) anticipating his turn on the “Morning Shift” of coddling and entertaining one Baby Grrl!™. He begins the day, as he does most, by heading downstairs (passing Club BG! on his way and glancing in to see his wife and child neither asleep nor awake in the glider) for a small glass of orange juice, a banana, and —most importantly— to make coffee. Having made the coffee and poured his juice, Chris turns to break one banana from the bunch and notes that it may —may!— be a bit green. (It should be noted here that Chris is colorblind. The specifics of said colorblindness would be a bit much to go in to here but suffice it to say, it makes it difficult for him to tell the difference between say the dark yellow of a ripe banana and the light green of an unripe banana.) Undeterred, Chris, still our hero, takes the banana upstairs along with his glass of juice (He’ll return for the coffee later when he gets his morning bowl of cereal). Upon arriving back upstairs, Chris has the following exchange with his wife, hereafter referred to as Holly, who, it should be noted, is not colorblind but is at that moment in a specific state of dopiness reserved for those just woken after too brief a slumber and/or those who have just taken a massive bong hit.

CLUB BG!, 7:05 AM

CHRIS ENTERS, ADDRESSES HOLLY IN GLIDER WITH A SLEEPING BBG! ON HER LAP.

CHRIS [Holding up the banana and asking this question about something other than infant excrement for the first time in weeks]: Does this look green?

HOLLY [Groggily through slitted eyes]: Ummmmm… yeaahh? I guessss… a… a little?

CHRIS [Hopefully though not without a barely discernible anticipatory hint of exasperation yet to come]: Can you see it?… Look. … Is it green? … or is it yellow?

HOLLY [Still groggy. Eyes still half open.]: Ummmmm… yeahh. It’sss… kiiinda… green? …

CHRIS [With a soupçon of impatience now definitely having made an appearance]: Should I eat it?

HOLLY [Still the just woken, sleep-deprived mother of a one-month-old. (Who, it should now be noted, does not do bong loads.)]: Ummmm… Sssuuure.

CHRIS [Only wanting to eat a f*cking banana so he can move on to drinking some coffee before he has to take over the care of the aforementioned infant and about to lose his sh*t]: Okay. Would you eat it.

HOLLY [You get the idea]: Sssure. … If I really wanted a banana.

SCENE

You had me from the first time Wrath66 posted about babies, fatherhood, etc. Now 7+ days have passed since your last post. I know there’s probably not much to talk about since all they do is sleep, eat and sh*t; but you gotta give me something. Make up something for god’s sake. I need something. Thanks.

Well, d.b. — if those are your real initials — you’re right. Babie don’t do sh*t. Except sh*t. Sure she’s had her first bath, multiple car rides and stroller strolls, made countless endearing yet involuntary movements with both arms and legs, and cuted us senseless with the occasional (still without intent) smile. Sh*t she’s done more astonishingly cute sh*t in the past seven days than I thought was possible for one person to execute and for me to not only tolerate but encourage and embrace to the point of embarrassing myself — even when there’s no one around but me and the perpetrator. I’ve done my first “solo” with her. (2 hours!) She now sleeps in her crib. She’s also worn countless cute oufits in hopes of getting them on her before she grows out of them with each passing day (and, truth be told, because there’s sometimes a bit of “overspray” that squeaks out around the edges.) And speaking of her literally getting too big for her britches, we’d been thinking she’d bulked up to her presumed due date weight — about 8 pounds and change — when we took her in for her one month visit and she blew our f*cking minds! This kid tipped the scales at 10 pounds 2 ounces! Wha?!?

And, guess what? I’ve got over 1,200 f*cking picture of this kid on my iPhone alone! I don’t even know what’s on our actual camera. I’ve got video footage that I probably won’t see for months much less edit into something to post here. So, yeah, I’ve got material.

But, you tell me how I’m supposed to post it from this position:

Dad multi-tasking with his new laptop.