Reptile show
Posted: March 3, 2011 Filed under: Dangerous Book for Boys 1 CommentFor the past few months, a fantastic lady in my ward has been organizing group field trips for moms and kids. It’s great because I get a chance to talk to other grownups, and the Bwun loves running around with other kids. Also, I can’t resist showing jr off. She’s really too cute. Anyway, this week – yesterday – we had a reptile show scheduled at the Monte L. Bean Life Science Museum.
I’ve been to the museum a lot of times; I volunteered there for a while my freshman year (it was for a class). I thought the Bwun would have a lot of fun seeing some live animals and a lot of stuffed ones. He’s two; he probably can’t really tell the difference. Maybe. So I got him hyped up about seeing a lizard (“wizard” or “shiddard” in Bwun-speak), snake, and turtle. I was just guessing about which reptiles they’d show us, but I was right on all three counts.
The show was supposed to start at 11:15, so by 11:12 I managed to get both kids in the car. Sweet jr was sweetly asleep and the Bwun was excited to see the wizard. The parking lot at the museum is designated as a faculty lot, but there are some visitor spots. I pulled into one not far from the entrance and was less-than-delighted to be informed that I’d have to go get a permit from the museum receptionist. Picture this: you’re two. You’ve been hearing about the lizards and snakes and turtles for a few days, you get out of the car and go through the museum doors and– WOW! This place is amazing! There are animals everywhere! And a gift shop right there with TOYS! Now picture being dragged immediately back out of the museum to the car. It wouldn’t be pretty. (I avoided that by letting the Bwun stay inside with some of the other moms and kids who had already arrived, but if we’d come by ourselves, it would have been a sure disaster. Poor planning on the museum’s part, I think.)
I have to remind myself that the Bwun is only two. He’s little. He doesn’t have a long attention span. And to try sitting still while there were tons of animals around was really hard for him. When the museum employee came out with his reptiles, the Bwun wanted to go right up and stand next to the guy instead of watching from a few feet back. I can’t blame him. Also, it was “nap time.” The Bwun officially does not take naps, but there are days when he definitely does. This should have been that day. Instead, I had to try holding a crying jr (who unfortunately woke up just as the show started) while catching the Bwun by the wrist and pulling him back to sit with me. It usually ended in him throwing himself on the floor and sulking or, more embarrassingly, screaming.
We did make it through the reptile show, finally, and I figured I’d let the Bwun run around the museum for a little while. Well, it was a nice idea. Or maybe a really terrible idea. I was still holding jr in one arm, and carrying her carseat, the diaper bag, and our jackets in the other arm, trying to make sure the Bwun didn’t grab anything he shouldn’t. The museum has a kid’s play room so I decided we’d go in there, where at least I could sit down and let the Bwun play with some toys. After some more dragging, sulking, screaming, and plopping on the floor, we made it to the play room. There was one chair, occupied by another mom, who was texting while her girls played. The Bwun used to be – at least I think so – fairly good about sharing toys, mainly because he tends to watch other kids rather than interact with them. But, of course, this time he wanted to take the girls’ toys and be right up in their space. It must be so much easier to be a bad parent and not care what your kid does.
The major downfall to our trip was that I had a lot of homework to do, and we couldn’t spend much time at the museum. Getting the Bwun out of the museum was a nightmare. I had to pick him up and try carrying him in one arm, and jr-in-carseat, the diaper bag, and our coats in the other. As if that weren’t challenging enough, he was in complete tantrum mode. He was doing everything in his power to get out of my arms and he came pretty close. I kept having to stop and put the carseat down, grab ahold of the Bwun some new way so he couldn’t escape, and pick the carseat back up. It was a long process to get from the play room to the exit. And I was angry. Very angry. Again, I kept trying to remind myself that the Bwun is only two and this was not a fun experience for him (being dragged home, I mean), but he was fighting me tooth and nail and I wasn’t really excited about going home to take quizzes and write papers anyway.
Once we made it out of the building, I got to enjoy the stare of the people in the parking lot who turned to see the Bwun screaming, “HELP! HELP! HELP!” I did manage to get him into the car, but when I went around to put jr in, the car next to me was parked so close that I couldn’t even open the door, much less get the carseat in. Oh man. It was a moment, for sure. In the end I put the carseat in the passenger seat and very carefully maneuvered my car so I had enough room to get jr in properly.
By then the Bwun had apparently gotten over the worst of it, because he calmed down enough to let me know that he threw my jacket on the floor. Thanks, son.
On our way back to the house, the Romgi called and said he was done at school for the day. I was maybe a little too eager to have him come share in the misery of the Bwun’s tantrums. Luckily for me, the Romgi is a much more patient person than I am, and he took the Bwun grocery shopping. And…the Bwun slept the entire time.
I was ready for a nap, too. Maybe some other time.
Postpartum – A Father’s Perspective
Posted: February 28, 2011 Filed under: Brothers Karamazov 2 CommentsNot long ago, the wonderful Roni blogged openly about the troubles of being a new mother. I’ve had some time to think about what she said in her post, and I thought it might be helpful to get the perspective on the stresses of becoming a new father. While I don’t shout Roni’s battle cry of “HABERMAS!” I do write this, much as she did, in the spirit of open and frank discussion about the difficulties and triumphs of becoming a first-time parent. Also, I am not an expert and never will be an expert on child rearing. I only know what I do from my personal experience, and the experiences of others may well be different.
Let’s get this out of the way, becoming a father is nothing like becoming a mother. I’ve heard it said that a woman becomes a mother the second she finds out she is going to have a child, and a man becomes a father when he first sees his child. I could not agree more with this statement.
I remember that Roni said she felt a little disconnected from the Bwun when he was born. She had known him for nine months as the little guy inside her. Then, he was always close and always quiet. She said it was hard to make the connection between the child inside that she had grown to love and this wriggling poop factory that we now had to deal with. For me, on the other hand, actually having the baby to hold and care for was completely different than being able to feel him kick every now and then. Seeing him born made him real; it made him a part of my world. I think perhaps nothing shows this difference better than our first reactions to seeing the Bwun: I knew that I loved him and would protect him with my life because he was the most beautiful child I had ever seen, Mika took one look and said “Bleh!”
For me, the hardest part of being a new father was not dealing with a new child, but dealing with a new mother. As Roni said in her post, she honestly felt like she was doing a horrible job at being a mother. The baby would cry (as babies are wont to do), laundry needed to get done (it is because of poop, people), and there was little to no sleep. No matter how often I told her that I thought she was doing a great job, and no matter how often I told her that part of the reason I married her was because I thought she would make an amazing mother, it did not seem to help. I still maintain that despite the apparent uselessness of these comments, these were important things to say.
Also, it was important for me to remember that nobody really knows what they are doing when they become a parent. No matter how many parenting books we had read, no matter how many episodes of “Super Nanny” we had watched, and no matter how many childbirth education classes we attended, nothing could ever really get us ready for such a huge change in our lives. Case in point, it took both of us 15-20 minutes to get the Bwun dressed the first time. It doesn’t take me that long to get him dressed now when he is literally kicking and screaming. We’ve been at this parenthood business for 2 years now and I still feel like we’re shooting from the hip. This is normal. This is part of being a parent. It is interesting to note that none of the fears that Roni and I had about becoming a parent came to light. I didn’t think our child was ugly and both of our children do love her.
My advice? Just keep doing the best you can. Let your baby know you love them. Let your baby mama know you love and support her. In the end, that is really all you can do. Also, remember that things get better; the crazy postpartum hormones wear off and the baby starts to be interesting. Is it hard? Yes. Is it worth it? Definitely.
tl;dr: hardest part of being a new dad is dealing with a new mom.
Happy Day You CAKE!
Posted: February 27, 2011 Filed under: Dangerous Book for Boys, Importance of Being Earnest 3 CommentsEvan has heard the song “Happy Birthday” quite a few times this past week. He not only got it as often as he wanted on his birthday (which was VERY often), but he also went to a birthday party. You throw in that my father’s birthday party was not that long ago, and this is the result:

