What a difference 3 and a half months make

I was looking at pictures of Desi when he was born, the other day. He looks like a totally different person, now.

See for yourself.

Here is a picture of Desi about 20 minutes after birth:

And, I took a picture this moring:

Same goes for me, actually.

Here's me when Desi was born:

And, now:

Good and Bad.

Our tax guy, Tom, recently informed us that we're getting a nice tax return, this year!

Oh, and our fridge broke on Monday. New one arrived, today. Guess where our tax return went. Nothing like spending money you didn't plan to.

There's no easy way to say this...

Desi pooped on me.

He had a blowout, today, while in his bouncy chair. I changed his diaper and figured, since it was time for him to have a bath, and it was time for me to have a bath...let's have a bath.

We were having a blast in the tub. It was his second time in the big bath tub. The first time didn't go so well. We were doing fine until he had one of his crazy head bobs that plopped his face straight into the water. He didn't like it. He was about 1 month old.

He does well in his baby bath, and he does well in the shower with one of us. Today, was the first time in the tub since the face plopping incident.

Things were going really well! I just ordered a fancy reusable swim diaper and plan to start taking him to the gym pool with me during family swim time. This was practice of sorts.

He quickly learned how to smack his hand into the water and splash everywhere. He was taking in the sites of the bubbles and he was enjoying having his head wet...which he usually cries during.

Then, on my belly, I feel bubbles. "HAHA," I say to Shaundar, who is in the bedroom. "Desi just ripped a big fart on me!"

Then, I notice the yellow slime rising to the surface, by way of my stomach and chest hair, getting caught all along the way. Needless to say, I was pretty grossed out. I called Shaundar in to turn on the shower, to which Desi and I quickly migrated while Shaundar washed out the the tub.

We're both clean, now.

Get away from me, you filthy paparazzi!

I stink

I seem to have discovered a new cologne.

First, I should remind you that I am currently spending all day with the baby.

Today, I went to the store because we were out of milk. Shaundar was home, so I left the baby with her. They were both napping.

It's a chilly out, so I grabbed a sweater.

At the store, I stopped in the beer section, as I often do. While I was perusing the different brews, I noticed a funny smell. It smelled like sour milk. It didn't take me long to figure out that this smell was coming from me...even though I was wearing a sweater over the shirt that I wore with the baby. In fact...I was even wearing a new shirt. I put on a clean shirt and a clean sweatshirt before I left. THE SMELL WAS COMING FROM MY SKIN! Ew.

I wonder if I can market this stuff. Ode to Baby Barf.

Off work for a month!

That's right. Starting tonight, I am off of work for a month!

This is one of the reasons I LOVE Microsoft. Not many companies offer paid leave even to moms. Microsoft offers paid leave to moms (3 months!) and goes even further giving paid leave to dads! This is NOT FMLA time. I am able to use that, as well. If I wanted to, I could take 4 months off. Unfortunately, I can't afford the 3 unpaid ones. Still...I will be getting paid for 4 full weeks, to stay home with my baby and spend some quality time with him while he's little.

And...I'm off!

Candidate for my Paternity Leave

I start my Paternity Leave on Wednesday. Working for an awesome company like Microsoft, I get 4 weeks of paid leave to be home with my son!

Shaundar sent me an e-mail, today. Subject line: Candidate for you to review. I open the e-mail to find this:

Desi takes a beating, today

We had 2 little accidents, today.

First, I get home. Shaundar and Desi are on the couch. I lean over the back of the couch to say Hi! From the stairs behind me, I hear *BA-DOOM, BA-DOOM, BA-DOOM* as Quincy races down the stairs and quickly jumps up on the couch to greet me...in the process trampling the baby. Don't worry, Desi is fine. More shocked than hurt. But, I am glad we have a Boston Terrier and not a Great Dane.

Then...in the evening, during our night-time play time, we were practicing sitting up. Des was on his butt, and I was holding him by the hands. He did one of those crazy straighten my entire body moves that freak us out and at the same time threw in a head fling backwards. Put the two together and he bonked is head on the carpeted floor. Again...more shocked than hurt.

Tomorrow, we'll work on falling down the stairs.

The Mom Song

All you mothers out there will appreciate this one.

PEPS peeps

Here are some pics from our PEPS group.


PEPS stands for Program for Early Parenthood Support. It's a group of new parents that get together to discuss new parenthood. It's also a great way to make new friends.

Some more Michigan pics

A bird's nest. Woo Hoo!


Penguins...fake penguins.



Desi and Aunt Jennie

Desi and Aunt Jennie, again.

Desi and his Great Grandma

Desi and his Grandpa.

Grandma

Desi yawning on Grandpa

Sleeping on Great Grandpa

Shaundar, Des and moi.

Anti-Family establishments

I know you're anxiously awaiting more Michigan pics, but I haven't pulled them off the camera, yet. I'll probably do that tomorrow. We have PEPS (and LOST) tonight.

For this post, I have a complaint.

Last night, when we arrived back into town, we trekked down to Tacoma to pick up Quincy, who was staying with Kate and Dan. We wanted to take them out for dinner for dealing with our, ummm, special dog.

When we lived in Tacoma, one of my favorite places to eat was the Ale House. 64 beers on tap! And, apparently, they now have a very good, and reasonably priced, order of Chicken Wings on their menu. My favorite meal in the world is beer and chicken wings.

Well, apparently, since we have left, the Ale House has made itself a "21 and up" only restaurant.

In Washington, nobody under 21 is allowed in the bar. I am not sure what the law is specifically. Meaning, I don't know what distance from the bar is required. But, many places have a Bar section (21 and up) and a restaurant section (anyone). The Ale House used to have one of these sections. Not any more.

I was quite disappointed. I mean, logically, I figure someone over 21 can still sit in the family section. But, by making themselves 21 and up, they have just refused entry to those packing kids. Namely, me and my friends.

So, we went somewhere else. A new restaurant called Wingers. Apparently, they have a happy hour. BUT...the happy hour is ONLY in the bar. Again, we have Desi with us so we can't sit in the bar. I complained about this to the owner who tells me that I can order happy hour drinks from the bar and take them back to my table. But, I can't order happy hour food and bring it back. At first, I thought denying Happy Hour to people with kids was a way of making sure people didn't drink too much before driving their kids home. But, this policy totally eliminates that. Now...I can drink a lot, but not eat anything. What?

It's not just Tacoma. Now that we have Desi, we can't go out to some of our (my) favorite places unless we find a babysitter. The Beveridge Place, 21 and up. Matador, 21 and up. Celtic Swell, 21 and up. The list goes on. What is the logic here? I understand not allowing kids in bars. But, some of these places (Beveridge Place excluded because it pretty much is just a bar) have full restaurants. Complete with seats a great distance from the bar.

Anyway...this ticks me off. I'm on the verge of writing a letter to someone. Don't know who that someone should be. Maybe the President. I think it's bogus. I enjoy me some happy hour. But, I'm not to happy, right now.

Another quick video

Kinda unrelated to Michigan except that it happened here...but, here is a video that's kinda cute. Basically, Desi is tired and cranky and wants to cry. But, he also likes playing with Daddy. The video doesn't capture the best moments (the ones that made me go "Get the camera!") but, it's still cute. You can kinda see the cry/laugh transition.

Michigan

We're about half way through our trip to Michigan.

Desi did well on the plane. He only fussed a couple of times, and when he did, it was short and quiet. The guy next to us commented that he was a good traveler. A flight attendant, who briefly held him while I set up the stroller, threatened not to give him back.

It is very clear that Desmond loves his great grandparents. Here is a quick video of Des and Great-Grandpa Pankow. I apologize that it's sideways. I stupidly forgot that video doesn't work like photos (IE: I can flip them later) until I was done. But, I liked the video too much to delete it.




We met up with Aunt Debbie today to go out to St. Claire Shores to see Great Grandpa-Zettel. We busted Grandpa Zettel out of the hospital he was in and hiked it over to Aunt Debbie's daughter, Jennifer's, place where we hung out for a bit with them, Sarah, her fiance, Alex, and Caleb, Jennifer's son. Got all that?
My dad got into town today. On Monday, courtesy of the very wonderful Uncle Brian, the 4 of us (Des, me, Grandpa, and Great-Grandpa) are having our photo professionally taken. Who knows when the next time will be that 4 generations of Pankows are in one place together.
We were also going to take some time to go see Shaundar's grandfather outside of Ann Arbor, but, sadly, he passed away the week before we got here. Shaundar's Aunt Jennie (frequent commenter on the blog) is in town handling his affairs, so we will trek out there tomorrow to see here.

Here are some pictures to tide you over, for now.


Great-Grandma slipped my kid some booze, or something.

With Grandpa

With Great-Grandpa

With Great-Grandma

Playing on the floor with an 80 something year old Great-Grandpa.


Shaundar, Jason, Grandpa Z (with Desi) Sarah and Jennifer

Des and Caleb

With Great Grandpa Z

With Aunt Debbie

With Great-Grandpa Z...and, hat hair.

Parenting Myth - DEBUNKED!

Often, when you don't have kids, people love to tell you about how you will feel when you do have kids.

"You'll understand when you have kids," was (and still would be if I still heard it) one of the most annoying things someone could say to me. Many things I heard about "Parenthood" I thought were bogus. "You'll understand when you have kids," was the reply.

Well...I am here to debunk some of those rumors. Starting with this one:

"When you're a parent, grossness takes on a whole new meaning...almost nothing grosses you out. Spit, barf, poop...piece of cake."

BOGUS! This is a total lie.

I am here to tell you...I am a parent. Here is a list of some things that still gross me out:

1) Spit-up
2) Vomit
3) Poop

The way some people have talked to me, they can swim in baby poop and not be affected. I'd like to see them try. Because, when Desi has a blow out, I want to bring the hose in the house and wash everything off before I let my hands anywhere near that yellow runny mess. Unfortunately, I can't do that, so I go through about 25 wipes and a couple bath towels to get him cleaned up, all the while trying not to gag at the smell and the fact that I have poop on my hands.

Then there is the spit-up and vomit. Desi has already managed to ruin quite a few of my shirts. I don't mind that my shirts are ruined...what I mind is the fact that now, all I can smell is sour milk mixed with stomach acid.

Now...many baby books have talked about how skin to skin time is important. Because I want to be a good dad, I will frequently lay Desi on my chest without a shirt on. People that know me are aware that I have a sweater on under my shirt (ie: I'm a hairy dude). Being a parent, I now know a new grossness. Baby vomit in my chest hair. TMI, I'm sure...but, necessary in debunking this rumor.

So...for all you non-parents, whenever you are told by a parent that you aren't grossed out by anything, anymore, tell them to stuff it. Because...even with baby, even after changing diapers, even after getting barfed on...every time, I still think it's gross. Bleh.