Tag: dad

2 Under 2: Sleep training, the sequel (#073)

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Looking back at the journey of raising #1, I would have to say that the hardest part would had to have been the teething.  When she started cutting teeth, and the pain and misery sat in, there was pretty much nothing that anyone could to do alleviate it, leading to a helpless failure of a feeling as parents that we can’t take the pain away, no matter how much we want to.

Although we haven’t gotten to the teething stage with #2 yet, I think it would be a safe bet in a few months that I’ll still be in agreement that the whole sleeping thing, is probably going to remain the worst thing about the growth of #2.

Since the literal very beginning, sleep has been a challenge from day one, where upon arrival, her circadian rhythm was all jacked up, where night was her peak awake time, and the daytime was when she would conk out.  Much like her mother, #2 has demonstrated being a light sleeper, that has had a hard time staying asleep once down, and as I’ve written about in the past, every single nap is like going to the shores of Normandy, they’re that much of aggravating battles.

It’s like putting her head down in her bassinet is like plugging a Game Genie directly into her, with infinite stamina codes programmed into them, because no matter how tired, groggy, or even asleep she is when being held or laying in a lap, the second she’s put in her bassinet, her energy bar fills right back up, she’s not only not sleeping, she’s on the fast track to screaming bloody murder.

One night, she literally screamed and cried for nearly two straight hours before mercifully seemingly tiring herself out to sleep, but of course she still woke up like 27 times in the middle of the night and required physical intervention in order to go back down for another 30 seconds before repeating itself again and again.

Another night, she would fuss and require pacification to fade back out, and no less than five minutes afterward, the process would start over again.  I’m fairly certain I got maybe an hour of sleep that night.

We’ve begun sleep training, which is basically to establish a routine that we’ll try to adhere to as carbon copy as possible every single night, with the hopes that she herself will begin to associate the routine with sleeping at a generally set time, and if all goes well, sleeping for more consistent stretches or windows, that can hopefully provide some chunks of downtime for mythical wife and I to feel like human beings again.  Because it’s for this reason alone that we don’t have any semblance of lives right now until she learns to get her shit together, and there are sometimes some days where I feel like I just can’t take it anymore, and in spite of my determination to not cave into the frustration, I just get owned. 

2 Under 2: Sick and tired of being sick and tired (#072)

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I’ll be the first to admit that it goes without saying that I’ve done a lot of complaining on my brog about the rigors and tribulations of fatherhood, twice over now.  That was never my intention, but that’s just the way things have panned out because parenting is really difficult, I knew it would be, but it still didn’t change the fact that things frustrated me, and I got stressed out and fried and all sort of defeated on a regular basis, especially since having a second.

More recently, I had a chat with myself, as I often do because despite the fact that I probably could benefit from formal therapy, I have never taken any steps to explore it, so I end up talking to myself a lot, mostly when I’m feeling frustrated and down in the dumps.  I’ve accepted the reality that over the last few months, I have been irritable and constantly upset, and I told myself just how sick and tired I was feeling of constantly being upset.  

So I rebut to myself, to simply stop.  Just stop being so upset.  Stop it.

That being said, over the last few days, I’ve constantly been trying to coach myself to not give into anger too much, and even if I do get pissed about something, to let it burn as quickly as possible, and talk myself back from the ledge about how much it sucks to be upset and to cool my jets.  

And as easy as it is to say to stop, it’s kind of helped quell my constant frustrations, and much like Peter Pan, I try to think happy thoughts alternatively, and enjoy little things about my kids and parenthood, because in the blink of an eye, this will all eventually be over when my kids grow up, and all I’ll have are memories of their baby years, and I want to counteract as much of the negative ones with as much positive ones as possible. 

Once I got my head out of my ass, I took a video clip of my oldest, walking around in the yard.  Watching her progress from a frail premature baby to this boundless energy toddler marching all over our property is something I want to remember always, and it’s thinking like this that reminds me of the importance to try and capture moments so that I’ll always remember them and be able to relive these days, especially when they’re far back in the past. 

2 Under 2: My second is basically nuclear Gandhi from Civilization (#071)

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

As much bitching and moaning about how hard being a dad is and how much my life sometimes feels like it’s sucking because of my inability to cope with the stress of parenting, when my head is less foggy and slightly clearer, things really aren’t that bad.  I’m sure any dads who might stumble across my brog might interpret fatherhood as being the most arduous thing on the planet, but I have no regrets and I love my daughters and my family, no matter what I say or put in writing.

All that said, as difficult as I might make my second daughter seem, things really have gotten better throughout her brief passage of time on this world.  The crippling colic is still happening, but instead of happening like 3-4 times a day, we’re typically down to 1-2 really bad colic incidents, so with that in mind, I want to jump out of a window less these days than I did on the days when it was worse.

However, if there’s one thing that has remained a constant throughout, is that #2, really, really objects to the act of being put down to sleep, regardless of how much she might actually want or need it.  No matter if she’s a sweet and cooing cherub two minutes prior, shortly after setting her head down in the bassinet and putting her into her sleep sack, when she realizes that I’m trying to put her down for sleep, the fussing begins, ramps up and eventually turns to screaming, which either escalates into colic screaming, or just a whole lot of crying.  Eventually, hopefully, she tires herself out, latches onto the pacifier and then I can turn on the motion to the bassinet, where she eventually passes out.  This is where I exhale a massive sigh, and creep out of the room as quietly as possible.

Attempting to put her down for naps, I’ve begun referring to as going to war, because that’s what it feels like, nearly every single time.  I’ve basically realized that when it comes to sleepy time, #2 basically is Gandhi from the Civilization game series, where he’s nice and peaceful, but the second you deny him the technology for granaries or aqueducts, he goes completely ballistic and is declaring nuclear war on you in two seconds.  

That’s pretty much what it feels like dealing with #2 when it comes to trying to put her down.  Attempting to get her to sleep is akin to telling Gandhi that he can’t have my windmill, and therefore she declares nuclear war on me and screams her head off until I lose the game.

One day, hopefully, this will pass, and I’ll just be able to look back at a post like this and laugh and not want to cry myself from emotional scarring.

2 Under 2: I think the exhaust was installed upside down (#070)

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Without fail, #2’s number twos have been blowing out, at least once a day, for like the past week.  At first, we figured it was just a sign that it was time to graduate her out of size 1 diapers and onto size 2 diapers, since she was blowing the literal shit out of the 1’s, but it turns out that even in spite of the size-up, she’s still blowing out of the 2’s as well.

Now it’s easy to suspect that we’re being neglectful parents, and that #2’s poops are gradually seeping out of diapers long past noticed or something, but I’m actually a very vigilant parent when it comes to blowout prevention, and given how hands-on #2 is, always wanting to be held, she’s definitely pooped while in my arms quite a good bit.

No, #2’s bowel movements are basically like, when you hear it happen, it’s already too late.  It’s almost as if her exhaust pipe were installed upside down, and even if I’m holding her completely upright, when she goes, the poop somehow manages to elevate up the backside of the diaper, and the feeling of moisture soaking through the waistband is an unmistakable feeling.

Literally, this is all happening in a matter of seconds, and there are just some poops where it’s going to blowout no matter what anyone is doing to try and mitigate the damage.  It’s partially annoying given the frequency in which I have to change diapers and outfits on her, and give baths when they’re really bad, but at the same time, it’s partially amusing, because then I get to write about it and use an animated gif from The Fast & The Furious of flames shooting out of exhaust pipes to try and illustrate a proper analogy for the whole situation.

Regardless, it’s not that big of a deal because #1 went through a blowout phase as well, and she would blow the shit out of numerous diapers and outfits, and almost with certainty while riding in the car seat, so I have to chalk this up as kind of a phase or some sort of rite of passage for kids, that their poops just become really explosive for a while.

2 Under 2: the endgame for the girls’ blets (#069)

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Not that I would’ve had any objection to have had a son, I low-key was hoping for a second daughter, for the explicit purpose that I could purchase a set of women’s tag team championship blets for my two daughters to become the lifelong tag team partners they were meant to be.

Anyone who’s seen the modest gender reveal video my wife and I did with a balloon filled with blue or pink confetti, when we popped the balloon and pink confetti rained over my kitchen, you better believe that within at least 3-4 minutes, my mind was already thinking about the tag team blets that I would have to inevitably get for my girls.

It took a few months, but I just so happened to be vigilantly on watch when the day came where the WWEshop dropped these specific blets to the price threshold I was awaiting them to hit before pulling the trigger.  I couldn’t have been more excited when they arrived, and not just because they made mythical wife’s eyes roll like Marble Madness.

Y’see, there actually was an endgame in mind for these blets, and I’m going to share it here, because it’s really going to be a toss-up if my brog lasts long enough for my kids to eventually read this, and that’s even if they’re even remotely curious to want read about dad’s online dear diary for the better part of what will probably be like 35-40 years old by the time they might be curious.

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2 Under 2: No time like the present (#068)

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

About a month ago, I wanted to write a post about how I was embarking on my paternity time for the second time, on account of the arrival of #2.  How I was looking forward to not having to worry about work for 12 weeks, and all sorts of ideas of ways I could be productive and get shit done with no work looming over me.

Well it’s been about a month since I’ve started my paternity leave, and unsurprisingly I have not accomplished nearly as much as I hoped I would prior to the start of it.

Who would have guessed that juggling two kids would consume so much of my capacity, even without having to worry about work?  Pff certainly not me.  In all fairness, our Disney trip consumed nearly two weeks of my leave, since it encapsulated a Tuesday through a Wednesday, and trying to accomplish anything before or catch up afterward just weren’t going to happen.

But going into my paternity leave, I made goals of accomplishing several tasks:

  • Refinance my home: rates are crazy low and with a second child in tow, refinancing my mortgage to try and bring down my monthly payment and free up some cash sounded like a tremendously good idea
  • Look for a new job: the cat is out of the bag by now, and most everyone knows I’m quite unhappy with my job, and would like to seek out a new one now
  • Explore the possibility of upgrading to a larger car: my car of two years and less than 15,000 miles is already too small for the size of my rapidly grown family, and I would like to capitalize on the potential of the also-hot used car market, and try to trade in my car for maximum value, so that I may upgrade to a larger vehicle
  • Yard work: there are some shrubs I want to get rid of, and some general cleanup I’d like to do around my driveway and walking paths, as well as reclaim some of the wild land in the field adjacent to my home, while the poison ivy is wilting and the snakes are going into hiding

So nothing too lofty, provided there’s a reasonable amount of time to do them, but therein lies the biggest problem – there’s just simply never any fucking time.

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2 Under 2: How can I lose myself when I’m already lost (#067)

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

What I’ve been doing recently is that I have decided that between the time in which #2 goes to bed which I’m really hoping is closer to 11 pm and not 12 am, and no later than 1:00 am, that is declared me time.  Time in which I will not be job searching, not researching potential cars, and I will not be doing absolutely anything at all unless it is self-serving solely for me, which is to say that it’s become the only time in the world I’m granting myself to actually do some fucking writing.

The good news is that it is providing me some time to actually do some writing, even if it is coming at the cost of the sleep that I most certainly would benefit from getting more of as well.

However, the bad news is that so far, it’s often times the time in which I’m in not the best of head spaces when I finally sit down in my office and have two fucking seconds where I’m not handcuffed to a child or doing something that pertains to the kids.  But on the flip side, I frankly think my writing is sometimes better when there’s a little (or a lot of) anger behind it, because fewer truths come out than when raging on the keyboard.

One thing that was often suggested to me when I was becoming a new parent, was the importance of keeping hobbies and having time to unwind, so that you don’t lose yourself or your personal identity to being just a parent.

Thinking back to all the times I’ve heard or been told such a bullshit suggestion, I’m inclined to believe that these people either don’t have kids, or weren’t in similar circumstances in which I’m in, with two kids under the age of two, while both myself and mythical wife work full-time jobs and have no immediately available family or support system remotely close by to lend a helping hand, all while being in the middle of a fucking pandemic.

Needless to say, I’m not “losing myself,” because I’m already fucking long past the state lines of where my general life has been left behind and lost.  I have absolutely zero time for myself, every single day of the week, and the only reprieves I have are maybe an hour every weekday, where there’s a small overlap where the nanny reprieves me of duty from #1, and #2 is still sleeping, and then the late night time at the end of the day in which I should be catching up on sleep but instead I’m so pissed and resentful at my lack of personal time that I’m hate-staying up until 1:00 am.

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