Feeding Berkley

Berkley likes food. He eats peas and carrots (just like Gump), chicken, most fruits, green beans, broccoli, sweet taters, etc. And I suppose most kids his age do this same thing. Courtney and I buy this food in the grocery store, steam it, blend it up into goo, and then freeze it in the ice cube trays.

When it's time to eat, we microwave it a few seconds, it turns to goo, and we shovel it into his mouth. Sounds pretty easy, huh?

Well, it was, for about 3 weeks.

Then Berkley wanted the spoon.
Then he hated getting his face wiped off after.
Then he got constipated.
And now, he's not interested in food anymore. So we just scatter Cheerios and ridiculously expensive "puffs" around (more about these retarded things later), hoping he'll pick them up and eat them.

Good try. I think our 9 month old might be smarter than we are.

Selling The House

We're selling our house. I work in Greensboro (30ish miles away), I work a lot, and if we don't move a little closer, I'm going to see Berkley on average 6 minutes per work day. Also, our house is a two bedroom one bath with no central air conditioning.

This is a perfect home for two people with no child. But now Berk is loud, and the window-unit air conditioners are loud, and the TV is loud, and there is literally no where you can go in this 1350 square feet and get a second's peace when people are here.

This house is also old, and we bought it with these idealistic dreams of fixing it up to its former glory and making good money some day. But, what has actually happened is that we've done a lot of labor intensive and very expensive repairs just to make the home tolerable/livable,and we're going to hopefully make a little money on the sale. Not the best planning on the Willis family's part. And now, quite honestly, I don't have time to mess with it. It's kind of fun to upgrade a home, but if I'm honest with myself, it's not THAT fun, or rewarding. It's just a lot of sweat and in the end the the result is something like the bathroom floor looks different. Whoopie.

So, we're moving on up like George and Weezie.

Now that the house is on the market, there's a new reality: keeping the house straight and clean, all the time. Well, most of the time. Well, some of the time. Well, the times when we think maybe someone may want to come see the house, and we're in town, and we're at home.

It's actually really hard to keep a house straight and clean with a baby crawling all over the place, drooling and puking all over everything, and leaving little toys all over the place.

I swear, letting the kid watch Yo Gabba Gabba 30 times in a row never looked so appealing.

And the constant cleaning. In pollen season. Dusting every 3 days. Cleaning the floors over and over again. Not letting a spot of mildew form in the tub. And all so some people can come in and offer us well below market value on the home, pointing out all the shortcomings and things they wish the home had! Super.

So recently, we've backed off big time. We let toys lie around in the playroom. It's a playroom, people will understand. Heck, people with kids will probably like it.

We dust once or so a week. Yes, we have dust in our house. It turns out people and dust can actually co-habitate.

And lastly we let Berk drool and puke and snot on everything without getting out the carpet/upholstery cleaner the second it happens. Because if we did, we'd just have to walk around with that bottle strapped to our waists. 9 month old's leave a trail of "stuff" wherever they go, and that's something else they don't tell you when you sign up to have a baby, or sell your house.

Our Second Child

I'm surprised how often I get asked "When you gonna have another one?" I'm usually eating lunch, or having a beverage with friends, so I usually reply,

"As soon as I'm thirsty again, maybe a little earlier."

But I know what they're asking. They want to know when Courtney and I are going to have another Baby. More specifically, Courtney. She does the having, I do half of the making.

And I might as well go ahead and say on this blog, we're not having another one. We may adopt, but we won't be biologically making another baby. Courtney wants to birth another baby about like she wants to run a marathon, and I want to go through the whole pregnancy/infant/pay for childbirth experience again about the same amount as I want to watch reality TV.

Quick defense of our actions as if I care what people out there in Internet land think of our in-home decisions: we're both only children, like it, would be excited to adopt if we changed our minds, love that other people have multiple kids, and do not plan to spoil Berkley into thinking he's any more special than other kids. Thank you.

So, to solidify this plan, I have had a vasectomy. Now, I'll explain how THAT little jewel of a procedure went.

First, we had to decide to have a vasectomy. And by we, I mean I. Just like Courtney has the baby, I have the snip snip. She isn't even in the room. But we talked it over and decided a lifetime of birth control wasn't worth a 15 minute operation and 2 day recovery. So, I signed up over at Forsyth Urology for a vasectomy.

Of course, since Google exists, I did a little research. I found out there are a few different methods, but then I realized my doc was going to do whatever he did, so I was wasting my time. In my research I found that some men suffer from post-vasectomy pain syndrome. Uh, hold the phone.

What is this "syndrome" and how do I avoid it at all costs? Apparently some dudes who get the snip have aching boys for the rest of their lives. No thanks. I'm out.

But, I went to the meet and greet appointment anyhow. They let me pee in a cup, did a physical exam to be sure it was possible (I have no idea why it wouldn't be) and then we sat down to talk it over.

The doc, who was brand spanking new out of residency, wanted to be sure I knew what I was getting into. I did. He asked all sorts of lifestyle questions, like if I was willing to go without other children, if I understood how young I was, all those sorts of things. I asked about POST VASECTOMY PAIN SYNDROME.

He said is happens to 3-5 percent of guys, and lasts anywhere from a few weeks to forever. I could live with that. So, I scheduled the procedure.

I scheduled for a Friday morning at 8am. I took off a Monday and Tuesday after to be sure I had time to recover. They instructed me to bring a jock strap and gave me a vicodin to take on my way to the procedure. I showed, and damn sure took the pill.

I arrived Friday am and they showed me right back. The nurse had me take my pants off and put on a t-shirt, then waddle over to the OR table. I did so.

Then, she took beta dine or something similar and covered every inch of my nether-regions. Cold.

The doc showed up a few minutes later with another nurse, who was much younger and very pretty. He had said something earlier about how some dudes get scared and their boys go up inside so he has to work them back out before starting the procedure. I wondered if this was her job. It was not. Her job was to hold a cup and catch what he took out of me, and talk to me and tell me what was happening. Chit-chat.

He went to work and injected my boys with some numbing stuff, which felt like a slight pinch, and then went to work. I felt nothing but the pinch. Snip-snip.

Every couple of minutes, he would reach over and drop something into the nurse girl's cup. Plop.

In 10 minutes, we were all done and he had sewed me up. I felt nothing from the procedure. Bliss.

Then, he sent me home. I rode the 2 miles to the house and got in bed. The vicodin had kicked in and I was feeling good. I got in bed and took a nap.

When I woke up, I was not feeling so good. My boy had bled on the gauze inside the jock strap, and they were sore. So I sent Courtney to fill the prescription for more vicodin, quickly. More please.

She did so and I spent the next couple of days keeping the boys clean with a light sponge bath, and riding a med high. They did get sore from time to time, but these sweet ice packs that look like peas really helped. I would just rotate them.

Sleep was easy with the meds, and by Saturday I was feeling like I could walk around easily, sit up, etc. I could have worked if my job was sitting all day.

By Monday I was ready to go back to work. I stayed home and worked just to take it easy. Tuesday I went back to work normally, no meds by script, just a couple of ibuprofen every few hours.

In two weeks, no pain whatsoever. Back to exercising.

Now, 5 months later still no pain and loving it.

Seriously, can I get a minute?

Revelation number 23 I've figured out lately (now that Berkley has more personality and can move) is that there is no more free time when Berkley is awake. I established that a post or two ago. He can do the crawling thing (a little faster than you'd think if you put him down for "just a second" to take a pee). And he can walk around if he's holding onto something.

He also doesn't have depth perception. I know this because he doesn't stop at the edge of things. He just keeps on crawling, right over the edge. For instance I put him on the bed, and he plays for .00016 seconds, and then crawls over the edge, landing on his head. I put him down on the kitchen floor, and he crawls down the little step onto the back porch to rummage through the recycling bin and cut himself on a Coke can.

And, to top it all off, it turns out only people are acceptable as jungle gyms. And if he does find something else to play with/on, I must be watching. If by some chance alignment of the stars, moon and my house Berkley decides to play with something other than my face and I decide to walk into the kitchen to get a Coke (so he'll have something to cut himself with later) he knows.

I can walk out like a Ninja, completely out of his field of view and not making a sound, but he knows. And he lets me know that this is a zero on the acceptable scale, and screams at me. To make life more super fun, teething, colds (which has only happened once thankfully) and anything odd makes this behavior more pronounced.

So a couple of days ago I needed a shower and Courtney was doing something Berkles could not "help" with, so we were in a bit of a pickle. Then, it dawned on me. This kid loves water. So, a few minutes later, Courtney came in to find me in the shower, washing my hair, with Berk down under my feet, crawling back and forth playing in the fake rainstorm created by the shower head.

In my mind, if he's going to be clingy, he's got to be cool with me deciding what "we" do.

Since then, all decorum has gone out the window. Where I used to have "my" time in the bathroom, now it's just a family affair no matter what's going on in there. At least one of us get's a minute.

Now I'm just trying to decide: Is it okay to lock him in the playroom with a recording of me talking? There's a glass door where I could keep an eye on him from the couch, and maybe he'll think I'm there long enough for me to pay a bill or two on the computer.

Vacationing with Baby

So, we just don't do it. I know other people do, and have a great time taking their 8 month old to Disney World, Six Flags, etc. I seem them all sweaty, pushing their giant stroller through Busch Gardens with their 128oz diet coke in the cup holder and I think "how are they going to get that thing on the Loch Ness Monster?" Not for us. Plus, Berkley thinks pine straw is hugely entertaining and is amazed by the cat next door. I don't think a schlep to Cedar Point is in the cards any time soon.

What we do shove him off to the grandparents. He loves it, they seem to love it, so in silly business speak: win-win. We have synergy.

Love you Berk, but you stay home while Mama and Daddy go lay on Caribbean Beaches. When you're older, get ready for summer camp.

Not THERE!

For the record, Courtney and Berkley were doing something in Greensboro today (spending money) and I was able to have lunch with them. Berkley sat in the high chair the entire time and played with puffs.

This post is about another food topic, baby-proofing the house.

If you've read much of this blog or Courtney's Blog, you can see we're not much into catering to Berkley. We try to keep in mind that he's here to compliment our lives. I realize some people have a child in order to provide for that child, make the world better, save the rain forest, win the Boston Marathon, whatever. We just wanted one child to enjoy and complete our family. It's Courtney and I first, Berkley second. Yeah, yeah, call us crazy.

Anyhow, let's keep this ranking in mind as we remember that Berkley is growing up and is quite mobile these days. He can walk around with his hands on furniture, crawl quickly, open and close doors, etc.

So, the baby-proofing has began, and yet here is another thing people don't know when they're day-dreaming about wonderful days in the park with their unborn child. So, here is a list of things you have to do in order to get your home ready for a child. I also decided to include whether we did it, or decided to go the hard knock route with Berk and let him learn the tough way.

1) All breakable things have to be moved out of baby reach. (partial success)
2) Electrical outlets have to be plugged. (We did a few of these. Others have plugs at times, and we figure his fingers are already too big to get in there. Everything he owns is plastic.)
3) Anything that will dissolve (like paper) has to be kept out of baby reach. Drool dissolves paper at 4 times the rate of water. (total failure, but we're improving. Berkley enjoys playing with the paper towel rolls. Sort of like a dog bone...)
4) Floor lamps, and anything that can be pulled over, like a table cloth, have to be secured. (did it)
5) Electronics are super attractive for babies. (we said screw it, he loves the radio/tv area and we encourage the interaction. We're also hoping he'll learn to work the surround sound unit, it's pretty tough to figure out.)
6) Dust must be vanquished every few days. Babies are natural dusters since they're always crawling around, but the dust bunnies that collect in corners, under the bed, etc are rough on the windpipe. (our house is for sell, so it's CLEAN)
7) No poison. So yeah, you have to clean all of the poison out of the places it lives. Like under the kitchen sink, etc. (failure)
8) No outside poison. If you spray weed killer, you have to have a map telling where is is until it rains later. (failure, we're learning fast on this one though)
9) No splinters. (we gave up in 5 seconds)
10) Nothing small in entire house baby could choke on. Since baby puts everything in mouth. (partial success)

This list could go on, literally, forever. But the point is that although we definitely put Berkley second as often as possible, as often as possible is about 3% of the time. A baby is an enormous amount of commitment and work. Your life, in no way, shape or form, belongs to you (or your accouterments) any more, until the baby goes to sleep, which makes 8pm a wonderful, wonderful time of night.

Out to Eat

Berkley has grown quite a bit lately and life is a bit easier. We are still quite the slaves to his nap schedule, but he's down to almost 2 good naps a day, so this means we have more flexibility to go out for longer periods of time.

So, when we're out we often get hungry and want to eat. So, we go to a restaurant. This is more difficult than advertised.

You'd think we could just grab a high chair, plop him in it, give him a toy and enjoy a meal. Ah, no.

Here are the issues with that little slice of utopia.
1) He doesn't like to sit in the chair for more than approximately 4 seconds.
2) Whatever he is playing with he throws on the floor every 10 seconds.
3) He is loud sometimes, and at 8 months doesn't quite get "shhh."
4) Sometimes he's getting towards nap time, and so he wants to be held.
5) Sometimes his teeth hurt, so he wants to be held, and whine.
6) Although he feels great and doesn't mind the chair, and hasn't dropped the toy, the salt, pepper, our food, and anything else that is not okay for him to play with is infinitely more interesting and he wants it.

So, when spending hard-earned money to go out and eat, there is a 7% chance we enjoy a meal, and a 940% chance one of us tends to him while the other eats, then the other gets their food boxed up to take home so he can take the next nap in today's schedule.