Tag: dad

New Father Brogging, #033

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

My kid has become observant enough to comprehend sights and interpret sounds and make associations to them, namely to say she recognizes the bottle, is familiar with the sound of the bottle warmer, and subsequently goes nuclear when she thinks it’s time to eat because clearly she must be starving to death and is wasting away at that very juncture in time.

Needless to say in order to adjust to such behaviors, mythical wife and I try to be as discreet as possible when it comes to pulling bottles from the fridge and getting them to the warmer, so she doesn’t notice, and subsequently begin screaming bloody murder.

I feel like we’ve become something along the equivalents of prisoners, where we have to sneak the bottles around like we’re handing off shanks, and we’ve been practicing trying to be slight of hand when it comes to keeping the bottle out of sight, and since there’s little we can do about the sound of the warmer, we typically have to keep her out of ear’s reach once it starts ticking away for 9-10 minutes.

No, I still have no regrets or unhappiness about parenting, but I do find it greatly amusing the correlations between prison inmates and new parents.

New Father Brogging, #032

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment
baby’s first promo.

Recently, my daughter has begun doing something that makes me so indescribably happy: she comes to me and demands to be held by daddy. 

Since she’s begun crawling, we’ve given her occasional freedom to roam around supervised, obviously so she doesn’t eat dust bunnies or dog fur, and to make sure she doesn’t hurt herself when she inevitably wants to brace against everything, pull herself up and stand, on wobbly feet.  But when there are two adults in the room, be it mythical wife or our nanny, I can go do things and let them be the eyes for me while I try to catch up, or grab a quick bite to eat if I’m in the middle of my workday.

Lately though, my daughter has begun tracking me down to where I stand, and with determination, she military crawls over to me, and pulls herself on my legs and makes whining sounds until I acquiesce and pick her up.  She clearly is wanting to be acknowledged and held by dad.

I’ve stood in the kitchen while she stood in the room adjacent, and she crawled her way to me which has to be a tremendous amount of effort for one who hasn’t really gotten the hang of proper crawling yet.  I’ll spend some time with her in her room, and usually this is where I can kind of relax, dick around on my phone and let her crawl around and play with toys without much concern, because it’s a fairly safe space, but the toys get old really fast, and she’d rather crawl to me and want to play with me instead.

Earlier today, I went into the sunroom to get a run session in during my lunch break, and closed the door behind me since I sound like stampeding elephants when I run on the treadmill.  I could see out of the corner of my eye while tying my shoes that she was crawling to the door, and fussed when our nanny gathered her up because she obviously can’t come in while I’m running, but it was clear where she was wanting to go.

And my heart melts every single time.

Obviously, there’s not a day that goes by where my child doesn’t make me happy, but this is the first time she’s shown a modicum of choice and action, and it just so happens to be choosing to seek out dad.  I love my kid more than anything in the world.

The year-end post, circa 2020

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

This video by Carters encapsulates how I feel extremely succinctly.  I know 2020 has been a historically catastrophic year by any number of measures, and I’m not going to even try and change anyone’s mind who’ve already decided that there’s absolutely nothing at all redeemable about it.  It’s a fair judgment, and there’s tons of justification to where I just have to shrug and agree that such X and other Y really are terrible things, and leave people alone to continue believing that 2020 was the worst year in human existence.

Frankly, if not for the one obvious event in my life this year, I’d probably be right there with them.  But because of said event, there’s absolutely nothing else that could really occur that can make me possibly think that 2020 was anything other than among the greatest years of my life.  Like many, I too know my share of people whom coronavirus has dually affected throughout the year, or had some very unfortunate events or news take place, and my heart genuinely, sincerely goes out to them, and I wish for nothing but the best for them and their loved ones.

But nothing is going to change my perspective on 2020 being a magnificent year, because nothing has been a greater event in my life than the birth of my daughter, right before all the shit really began to hit the fan.  And throughout the remainder of the year, for every piece of horrible, shitty news, note about someone dying, bad day at work, or any other reason for stress and unhappiness, I was always mere steps away from being able to go pick up my daughter and hold her in my arms and will away the negativity.

As ironic as it may seem, and I’ve said it as much, as much as coronavirus and the global pandemic have been devastating to the world throughout the year, it’s inadvertently put me in the most optimal position in the sense that I’ve gotten to work from home since the shit hit the fan, and I’ve gotten to spend a tremendous amount of time more raising my daughter than if the world wasn’t in lockdown and I had to go back to work in the office while my child would be in a daycare, in the hands and responsibility of people I don’t know. 

I don’t fucking want that, even if there were no coronavirus in play.  I’ve been fortunate and I treasure all the time I’ve had and will continue to have being close to my kid, and it’s ironic that I have to thank the selfish stupidity of ‘Muricans for being so stupid and greedy that they can’t or refuse to comply to the behaviors that would’ve eradicated all of this if we just had some collective cooperation.

But outside of my child and coronavirus, 2020 has been somewhat of an eventful year.  Yes, most of it was bad, but not everything was completely putrid.  And as I tend to do every year, I take some notes on a daily basis of the things that happen that are remotely interesting to me, so I guess behind the jump, we’ll take a look back through the year that everyone loves to hate and can’t wait to see end:

Continue reading “The year-end post, circa 2020” →

New Father Brogging, #031

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I’d become so accustomed to carving out a little bit of time to write every single night throughout the month that I don’t feel right not doing so, even if there’s no more German beers to review, and even if it is Christmas, and even if I’m tired because I’ve been up since the usual 6:30 am, and spent pretty much all day entertaining guests and trying to keep up with families, be it virtual or in-person.

If anything at all, this is precisely what I should have wanted to have happen after writing about beer for 24 straight days, is that it’s kind of conditioned me to want to do some writing, every single day, because when the day is over that’s really what I always aspire to accomplish with my brog, in writing regularly while hopefully not becoming too inane or uninteresting.

So I’ll simply say that as it has been the first Christmas of my daughter, I am in very good spirits that she had a pretty good day, slept well, had good naps, ate very well, and had a tremendous amount of gifts for her.  I am floored by all the love that my family is fortunate to receive and that so many people want to lavish my daughter with gifts and other thoughtful gestures, and I feel very lucky to have so many positive persons in my stratosphere.

It makes me feel unworthy of all the consideration so many of my friends and family have for my family and I, and that I will probably be anxious and insecure with the idea that I can reciprocate such generosities adequately.  I can only hope to be the friend, family or companion to those who think of me back to them, and I would like to be the best person in return to everyone who even has even just good thoughts towards my family and I.

Regardless, in spite of the general mass bemoaning of the kind of year that 2020 has been, it was still extremely important to me that my daughter have a good first Christmas.  Mythical wife is often critical and gives me hell about my general apathy and reluctance to do stuff like putting up trees, decorating the yard, and other festive things around the house, but it wasn’t so difficult to do as much this year, because of our general want to have the best Christmas we could under the circumstances we were given.

And despite the fact that we couldn’t see much of our family and friends this year, and there’s still a laundry list of people that my daughter has yet to meet in person, we still made the best of the hand we were dealt and be it virtual and the few people who do have a pass to come to my home, I think we succeeded in having a pretty good Christmas not just for our child, but just a good one in general.

I hope all future Christmases can be as positive for my wife and daughter as this one has been, if not better.

New Father Brogging, #030

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Take whatever I’ve said was the worst thing about new parenting, and throw it out the window.  Because the 9-month sleep regression has been the worst thing to have ever happened.  Seriously, I’m pretty sure I just had the worst night as a new parent last night, as my daughter woke up at 8:30 pm, 9:40 pm, 12:30 am, and then at 2:20 am, not going back down until around 3:30 am.  Needless to say, my longest stretch of contiguous sleep was three hours, as my alarm went off at 6:30, in preparation for the workday.

Seriously though, this takes the case for the worst experience in new parenthood so far, because it’s not like sleep regressions of prior periods where her awake windows just changed, but she would ultimately still actually go to sleep; no, this particular sleep regression is where she sleeps at her usual times, and sleeps for a little bit, it’s just that she wakes up in the middle of the night, wide awake as a Karen on speed, and will not go back to sleep, and repeatedly stands up against the railing and screams, no matter how many times I reset her on her back and try to soothe her to sleep.

When she was still a newborn, waking up in the middle of the night was expected and mostly on our terms, as we set alarms to go off in order to wake and keep her on her feeding schedule, but right now, we have no idea whether or not a night is going to be zero wake ups, one, two, three or even four times waking up, wailing and needing some intervention.  I can go into her room, calm her down and set her back on her side or back, but often times I’m one foot out the door before she goes ballistic, and I’m left feeling so shot, so beaten and just so frustrated with everything that I have a hard time thinking straight, most of the time in which I’m pretty sure I’m not.

Without question, this has been the worst part of new parenting yet.  I know that title is only as secure as the next worst thing about new parenting to come around, but this one feels especially nasty, and it’s put me in this exhausted state of being where I don’t look forward to the evenings anymore, when I might get an hour or three of some time to myself to do me shit, but lately all that’s been encroached upon by an ornery and crying baby most of the time.

And nothing I do, or mythical wife does, is seeming to work during this regression.  No amount of soothing, keeping company or even picking up and rocking gets her to sleep or stay asleep, and it’s only a matter of time before she’s screaming bloody murder and I’m left feeling like a failure clown of a parent who can’t even keep his kid under control.  I’ve never lost my cool or felt so defeated and frustrated as I’d ever felt during the last nine months, and I know I’m far from the only parent to have ever endured this, but I can say without any hesitation nothing so far has been as demoralizing as the nine-month sleep regression.

Although seldom do I want time to speed up while I’m with my daughter, I sure as heck wouldn’t mind if I could just skip ahead to when this regression period is over, and I can actually get some slightly below-average but at least still six hours of sleep, just once.  I’d take explosive diapers and getting clawed by baby nails repeatedly, over this particular sleep regression, any day of the week, because at least I can still have some predictable down time to decompress and get some actual rest from time to time and not feel like a zombie as a result.

Frankly, I feel like this is a fraction of the words I had swirling in my head between the hours of 2 and 3 am last night of an unhinged and exhausted new parent, and I don’t feel like this is really conveying the frustration and rage I was feeling, not at my daughter, but at the horrors of the situation that is the nine-month sleep regression.  Obviously I know that I’m not the only parent to ever endure this, but damn does it suck, and at least I can provide a more accurate and honest reaction to the concept, versus all the clinically sociological explanations of it found all over the internet that make it sound like a minor inconvenience that just needs to be patient through a little while over.

Seriously, this has been the worst part of new parenting, hands down.  The genocidal thoughts that were going through my head throughout the evening that wouldn’t end aren’t even close to being expounded upon by my exhausted words of frustration captured here in my brog.

New Father Brogging, #029

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

It would have been pretty easy for me to do nothing but write about beer all month long and call it a day, but that would’ve been kind of a cop out as far as dutiful brogging is concerned.  Beer is nice, and I’ve been enjoying the fares from Deutschland, but there are still plenty of things on my mind that warrant words, no matter how much I may feel unmotivated to write about them, and when the day is over, it’s more important to me to write out my thoughts than to be lazy, even if it feels kind of forced; this is how seriously I take it to write, sometimes.

Anyway, in this new dad brog, there is one update and there is one observation.  As for the update, things have actually been going fairly smoothly since the last time I wrote about my adventures in fatherhood.  My daughter and I have a fairly consistent routine that’s been making life not too difficult for either of us for the most part, and the days are flying by like leaves in the winter air.  I wake up at 6:30~ish every single day, regardless of if it’s the weekend or not, mythical wife feeds baby, and then I entertain baby until first nap in which I then either really get to work, or if it’s the weekend I nap or sometimes get my jogging out of the way if I’m feeling up for it.  Our nanny takes care of kid for the next four hours on weekdays, or I spend time with her on weekends, and then it’s off to bed by 6:30~ish, to which mythical wife and I try to have some time for ourselves.  Repeat x infinity

However, as we’ve crossed the nine-month mark, naturally nothing stays the same forever, no matter how comfortable it’s been.  And in this particular case, whenever we run into any sort of issue, I can punch it into Google, and the precise query I intended to look up is automatically filled, reminding me that there has been absolutely nothing my kid has done or I have experienced, that millions of parents out there have not already seen.

As indicative in the photo above, that’s my child, standing in her crib.  As her little body and brain have been developing, she’s decided that immediate sleep isn’t something she necessarily needs anymore, and has decided to sit up, and pull herself up to her feet and just kind of hangout in her crib, instead of sleeping.  99% of the time, she’ll spit out her pacifier, piss herself off, and begin crying then wailing, then screaming, which prompts me to have to up and try to reset the whole scenario all over again, before she calms down, I walk out, and then she repeats it 3-4 times, burning us out in the process.

It seems evident that she herself is working things out and is playing a daily game of how many shenanigans she wants to pull in her crib between two naps and bed time, and how much she actually wants to sleep, because since behavior has begun, no two sleep sessions have been alike in how much she fights, how much she wanders around independently and how quick or long it takes before she actually goes out, and for parents like me that like routine it’s been occasionally frustrating.

Continue reading “New Father Brogging, #029” →

New Father Brogging, #028

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Originally, I thought about writing about how teething was the worst thing ever when it came to raising a baby for the first time, but I’m pretty sure my new dad brogs #28, 27 and 26 were probably about the subject of teething, so I figured I’d lay off that topic for a minute.  But it was going to lead up to how parenting for the first time genuinely feels like a bell curve of difficulty, as so many other parents have told mythical wife and I that “it gets easier!” in time, but I’m pretty sure that the people telling us this had long forgotten what the teething experience was like.

Frankly, the first two months or so of parenting weren’t really at all that difficult except for knowing that your sleep habits become more like fragmented shifts, and that your entire life is spent on your tiptoes making sure that your baby is breathing, eating and alive more or less.  But during the daytime, my kid was mostly asleep in the Mamaroo next to me while I worked remotely, and I still have fond memories of simply turning my head and seeing my pride and joy blissfully sleeping while I was trying to maneuver through my work days and pretend like I give a shit.

Once the first sleep regressions hit, the stress ramped up, but settled down fairly soon, once new routine had been established.  As I often say, routine and repetitions are the lynchpins to success, and it very much applies to parenting as well, because once you establish and reinforce, things get easy, that is, until it’s time to scrap everything and start all over again, which I’ve learned is basically the basis of raising a child.

Teething though, that’s stuff of nightmares, made worse by the simple fact that the timeline of it is basically several years, based on the pace in which a child’s teeth begin to come in and grow.  Sure, as they age their pain tolerance begins to develop, but man those first few teeth, and the pain and suffering they put my child through, lord almighty, I’d do just about anything to take that kind of agony away from my kid.  And that’s only four teeth out of the estimate 20 that kids usually have.

But we’re not going to talk about that kind of minutiae of new parenting, as recently was something of a high stress point in my life as a new dad. 

A few months ago, we introduced my daughter to eggs.  It was not a particularly good introduction, as we were met with projectile vomiting, runny diarrhea, and all sorts of skin breakouts.  Embarrassingly, it took more than a day for us to realize the outlier in her diet that suddenly caused all of this, but once we identified that it could potentially be eggs, we immediately took them off the table.

Continue reading “New Father Brogging, #028” →