Intimacy and Oreos

People at church don't like to say SEX. They say intimacy or marital intimacy instead.

What does this have to do with anything? How about the BEST FAMILY TRADITION EVER?

I've heard women complain that men like to go to sleep after "intimacy". Never been my thing. Well, our new tradition with all that extra energy? I head to the store and buy 2 packages of Oreos and we scarf it down. Regular for me, Double Stuf for Chris.

Yum!

In Praise of the SAHM

Awhile ago I wrote a lighting-rod post that sent most of the world atwitter about my vision for Samantha's future.

In light of the responses from my friends and family, all of whom are stay at home moms (I know men read this blog. Where are your replies?), I've had many experiences that make me very grateful for what they do. Both growing up and now.

My mom's favorite job was and is being a mother to her children. Due to how much care I required as a child, I don't expect my life would have turned out the same if she had not stayed at home to look after me. I was born with a moderate case of what is called Goldenhar Syndrome. In my case, it caused the soft palate of my mouth not to form completely, caused dermoids in my left eye as well as my left eyelid not forming correctly. It caused other issues that are becoming more of a problem now like an extra pie-shaped vertibrae wedge crammed in my neck that causes scoliosis. But as a baby and most of growig up, my back was the least of the worry. Due to the soft palate, feeding me was a chore and took a long time. It was also very uncomfortable. My mom spend a huge amount of her time just feeding me (you moms know it seems like your always feeding your baby as it is.) And keeping my eye lubricated until I had surgeries to make a soft palate in my throat and reform my eyelid. With this done, I could eat and blink, but still had many surgeries and doctors appointments up until I finished high school. It was my mom that carted me around to them, fought with the doctors and insurance companies, and made sure I had the care I needed. There's no way with all she had to do that she could have tackled a career successfully at the same time, and I'm grateful to her for that. We have a close relationship partly due to the things I've been through.

I've gotten a closer view on the day-to-day workings of being a SAHM by watching my beloved and "filling in" for her as primary caretaker on weekends. I'm ashamed to say it, but full appreciation for what she does all day didn't kick in until we started our new schedule of me being primary caretaker on Saturday and Sunday so she can get other stuff done. After about 4 hours, I'm very tired, getting a headache and wanting to pass her off. It's not like she can even walk yet. One of the things Chris and I used to talk about was me being a SAHD. We never seriously considered it, but talked about it. I can say now, the thought of it scares me to death. I get jealous of the bond that Chris and Samantha have being home together all day, but she is patient with Samantha and making sure her needs are met each and every day. I feel a sense of guilt for saying it, but coming to work and knowing that I won't have diaper duty till the evening and feed her every 3 hours and comfort her when she's fussy 10 times a day is something I sometimes find myself looking forward to.

I hope this doesn't come across is dumping a job I don't want on my wife. I love my daughter more than anything besides Chris. But Chris is able to provide something that I'm not ready to provide at this point. So I bring home the bacon. Raising children is the most important job in the world for both mothers and fathers, and I'm glad that Samantha is able to spend the days learning from her mother. One of my friends at work said to me once, "why would you entrust the raising of your child to someone else?" I agree with this completely. Kids need a parent at home. I think the maternal instinct usually makes the mom a good match for this job.

So to all you SAHMs (and SAHDs) out there, thank you for doing an important and sometimes thankless job. I know sometimes husbands and the world don't act in a way that makes it feel like your doing something more important than having a career. But when I think of my role as a father and as a software engineer, I know the world won't remember me for being a software engineer. the chances I'll make a human-condition changing contribution to the field are very slim. I know my work as a father is what will truly help make the world a better place. Thanks for dedicating your lives to our most precious trust from above.

Thank you, modern medicine

A few weeks ago, the doctor prescribed Samantha Zantac to control reflux. This didn't really work, and she hated it. See my facebook profile for a video of the experience.

The doctor then changed her to Prevacid. And our lives have changed! We sleep at night now. Here's Samantha's new schedule:

Go to bed at 9 after drinking her Enfamil AR. We give the formula at night to reduce reflux.
Wake up at 1:30 - 4:30. Feed her another bottle of Enfamil AR.
Wake up for good at 5-7 AM.

Chris and I switch off nights. Tonight, for instance, Chris will give her a bath, get the Enfamil ready, feed her and put her down on her wedge (another prescription to control reflux.) Then she will wake up with her if she wakes up before 4:30 AM. I will wake up with her if it's after 4:30. Then tomorrow night we'll switch. Etc.

So far it's been working out great. I don't feel like I'm living in a constant haze. Mom's happier, Dad's happier, and baby is happier.

Samantha's Divine Role

I read in the August Ensign here about a woman who has the gall to go out and work to save the family's business, and prays for forgiveness for straying from her divine role.

Her divine role, maybe. But maybe not somebody elses. Thinking that every man, or every woman has a divine role identical to every other man or woman reminds me of the beginning of the movie "Antz" when the baby ants are hatching and being declared "workers" or "soldiers" and having a pick or sword put in their hand.

Proclamation on the Family notwithstanding, which I believe makes allowances for deviances to the generalities it presents, when I look at Samantha I don't see a future mother and housewife. Maybe she'll choose to be that. I mean, I really want grandkids. But what I see now is a little baby with the potential to choose her own path and find out for herself what God wants her to do. I've read the YW carriculum a bit and it seems pretty bent on pigeonholing our girls into the one officially santioned divine role. I hope that changes a bit or her teachers present the material with a more broad perspective. Either way, we'll have talks frequently about it as she grows older.

The Joker

Samantha Joy has pretty bad reflux. The doctor has us giving her a Prevacid tablet in the morning, and half a tablet at night. It's really just medicine packed in a sugar substrate. Not like adult pills. They dissolve very quickly in her mouth. I'm on duty from 4:30 AM till 7:00, so I will frequently give her the AM dose. I put the pill in, and she kept trying to push it out. Once it dissolved, she wouldn't swallow and was trying to get the spit out of her mouth. Eventually she just barfed out her mouth and nose. Yay. I cleaned her off and got Chris up and we tried again. This time we gave her half, then once she was done with that half we gave her the other half. It was messy, but most of it went down. The rest was all over her mouth. I didn't clean it off right away, and it dried. With the white around her mouth, I thought she looked like the Joker. I picked her up and sat with Chris and we laughed and laughed at the clownface she had.

Then she gave us a really big grin and beamed at us while we laughed. I felt bad that we were laughing at her misfortune when she probably thought we were playing with her.

But that smile... it melts my heart. She's got me wrapped around her finger.

Pacifier

I tried sucking on one of Samantha’s pacifiers the other day to see what was so great about it.  It was strangely comforting.  Do they make an adult size?

BIG NEWS about Samantha

OK, that was just to get you to read this. Samantha is almost 5 weeks old and is doing TERRIFIC. If she would sleep through the night, we would have the perfect baby.

So Chris and I had to work out a schedule for getting up with baby since I have work. The schedule we came up with is that on Sunday through Thursday nights, she wakes up with Samantha from 9:30 PM to 4:30 AM. I get up with her from 4:30 AM to 7:30 AM, after which I go to work. On Friday and Saturday, I get the long haul. So far it’s worked, though it’s meaning Chris has to sleep on the chair most of the night since Samantha only seems to like to sleep if she’s being held.

She is wonderful… but soooo needy.

After i got home from work today, I fed Samantha. After which I decided it would be a good idea for her to taste her first few granules of sugar… and blechhhhh! She barfed all over me. Now, a few weeks ago this would have grossed me out. But I have gained a immunity to baby barf and poop. It makes me think about what a putz Andrea Yates’s husband really was (she’s the mom that drowned her kids a few years back.) Apparently the guy NEVER had changed a diaper. I was a little scared since I had never done it either, but it’s soooo overrated. At least so far.

My Baby, a poem.

Baby, the first time I saw you

The doctor was cutting mommy open with a scalpel.

The little bits of hamburger on his hand but a hint of what to come.

"Those aren't baby kicks!" the doctor shouted above the din "It's a cauturizing device giving you shocks to move your muscles!"

The physician brought out the crowbar, and I felt a surge, knowing you would soon be in my arms.

Crying, they pulled you out into the bright cold world, purple face, blue hands, and body dripping the lifeblood of the mother.

And now I spend each day with you. And feel your soft skin.

And smell your curdled poop.

SLEEP BABY! DAMN IT, SLEEP!