Grandmas, Digestion, Lungs, and Back Hair

Well, not too much to report at the root household. The biggest news is that Grandma C left yesterday. Pretty tearful event.

Let me just tell you that I have no clue how single parents do it. It has taken all three of us to keep everything going around here for the past 2.5 weeks. However, a GREAT deal of the load was born by Grandma C. She took care of the baby in the early morning (and sometimes all night and day), she cleaned, cooked, went grocery shopping, on and on and on. We're very thankful that she could be up here for the past month.

In other news, I'm convinced that we didn't really give birth to a full human. We just gave birth to a digestive system with lungs. I took over baby duties at 5 AM. He had just taken 4 ounces of food at 4 AM. I determined he was hungry at 5:30 AM b/c I'm a smart dad...well, I was actually just looking for any way to shut him up and he was acting like he was hungry so I figured, "What the hell."

By 6:30 AM he had taken 4 more ounces. I thought, "Well, that should tide him over until...oh, I don't know....he's 18." Wrong I was.

He never really got settled after that feeding. First it was poo. Then it was gas. Then it was poo and pee. Then it was general crankiness. Then it was 7:30 and he started acting like he was hungry again. By this time, Pappa, who is not a very patient person, is having delusions of sitting on a barstool with nobody bothering him and drinking a cold, cold, Bud Light. That or pulling a Bugs Bunny and putting Junior in a box bound for Antartica.

However, since no bars are open at 7:30 AM, I was fresh out of boxes, and postage to Antartica has got to be expensive, I decided to try to feed him again. Praise Jesus, Mary, and Leroy Jenkins.....it worked! He took another ounce and he was out like a prom date on Mad Dog.

OK, so that's a happy ending. However, let's look back at this. In the span of 3.5 hours he took NINE FREAKING OUNCES! I'm going to have to start fixing him steak and he can fight with Bailey over the bones after he's through with the meat.

Break....baby crying again....

Well, 8:30 rolls around and we had another poo and we took another ounce.

...back to your regularly scheduled exercise in blogging futility....

Random thought for the day: Chest hair and baby hands don't mix well. I'm going to look like I have mange pretty soon. If I could get him to lay on my back and take care of that jungle, I'd be set. Although it wouldn't be the most painless way to have back hair removed.

I can just see Junior laying on my back, pulling out tufts of back hair by the handful while he's wailing his head off and throwing the hair up in the air. Then the hair descends back to Earth, lands on him, adheres to whatever sticky substance is covering his entire body at that exact moment, and he winds up looking like some circus wolfboy.

Pappa out.