Welcome to week four of The Newbie’s Guide to One Funny Daddy!

I remember studying Buddy like he was some ape in the wild. Every little thing was a new thing to both of us. He still continues to amaze me. And now it is so cool to watch Bean develop as a completely different little person. This whole process is just as incredible as it is terrifying. In these posts, you can see I was just figuring that out…

Just when that little devil has me wanting to skip town to Costa Rica, the flu quarantines me to the guest room for three days. I miss my wittle family. I guess I’ll unpack my bags.

I think Wifey has proven once again that women actually may be tougher than men. She has fended off the flu while nursing a cranky kid, all on relatively no sleep, taking nothing but vitamins for four days. She beat it. I didn’t. Which leads to the argument that women are actually smarter than men, too. At least this man, anyway. 

Just a warning ladies; Buddy can’t see past 18 inches yet, but put a boob within a 6 foot radius of him and he lunges at it like an 11.5 lb panther! He has definitely discovered his rooting instinct. Hold him at your own risk!

I’m starting to equate taking care of a baby with fixing a leak. If you can find and fix that leak when it’s small (recognize the kid’s hungry, tired, etc.), you’re all good (baby stays calm). If you ignore the signs, and the leak lets loose (baby goes apeshit), you’re gonna get all wet. Just pay attention to the signs, and you shouldn’t need to call a baby-plumber (in-laws) to fix your shit-show.

Buddy’s senses are really starting to develop. His eyes are tracking moving objects. He’s reaching out to touch things and swinging his legs in attempt to roll. He will even mumble “responses” during our conversations. Not to mention, he has the boob obsession of a fifteen year old. They truly do grow up so fast!

I have developed a simple three-tiered ranking system to immediately judge the severity of a #2 diaper fill-up. It’s called Butt, Nuts, or Gut? Obviously, the bigger the load, the farther it spreads. If you’ve got poo on the belly, well, that’s what we call “a bad day”.

To spoil or not to spoil by picking up Buddy when he cries? That ’tis the question. I’m not sure what the right answer is? But if it means no crying, I’d put a starving mongoose in my undies while standing on one foot and singing a Justin Bieber song.

I had a “HOLY SHIT Moment” last night after realizing that I am an expert at NOTHING! What will I be able to teach this kid? I’m no star athlete. I’ve never built a house, nor rebuilt an engine. I have A.D.D. and the only things I’m good at are art, music, and making a fool of myself. I was reminded of something that I seem to forget… I’m a NERD!

There are two men in this house now. One of whom only sleeps 5 hours a day, drinks his meals, drools in his sleep, and sharts in his britches repeatedly. The other is a 3 month old baby.

Buddy is a little stubborn with a bottle. He prefers it straight from the tap. I explained that big boys love bottles as they get older. Glass ones. I told him about the time Daddy drank so many bottles that he woke up in a stranger’s swimming pool wearing nothing but a Batman t-shirt and some floatees! That MILKER LITE makes some “babies” crazy!!!

I would like to know what a baby that usually just giggles when he’s awake, laugh his little ass off about while he’s asleep!? Does Buddy even know what laughing is yet? What is he thinking about? The time I dropped my guard and he peed on me? The time I stubbed my toe on his crib so hard I nearly shit my pants? What’s so funny!?

I have read conflicting articles that state a child’s long term memory develops at either age 1, or age 5. That’s quite a gap in theories. I wish I knew for sure. Then, I would know how long I have to get my act together.

Prior to Buddy, some of my proudest moments included winning a fastest beer-bong contest, sneaking backstage at Ozzfest, and almost eating the 4 pound Big Ethyl Burger. Those moments have since became Buddy’s birth, him rolling over, going to sleep without crying (sometimes), and farting louder than a grown man. My, how perspectives change…