the new dad from a to z
copyright 2010 by Dan Consiglio. All rights reserved. Printed in China. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of reprints in the context of reviews. For information, write Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, an Andrews McMeel Universal company, 1130 Walnut Street, Kansas City, Missouri 64106.
E-ISBN: 978-1-4494-0049-1
Library of Congress Control Number: 2009939463
www.andrewsmcmeel.com
Cover design by Ren-Whei Harn
ATTENTION: SCHOOLS AND BUSINESSES
Andrews McMeel books are available at quantity discounts with bulk purchase for educational, business, or sales promotional use. For information, please write to: Special Sales Department, Andrews McMeel Publishing, LLC, 1130 Walnut Street, Kansas City, Missouri 64106.
to lauren, lily, lucy, and sam. for teaching me.
introduction
Parenting books can be frightening for expectant dads; I nearly had a panic attack two chapters into one of mine. I remember thinking two distinct things at the time: (1) I cant possibly do all these things theyre suggesting, and (2) Would I be a bad dad already if I set this down and watched the Cardinals game? The jury is still out.
But the point is, things dont have to be so complicated and scary. Most guys just want the straight dope from someone whos been there: Will I ever sleep again? Will I be pooped on? What the hell is a Onesie? You get the idea. Thats why I wrote this book. Because when you break it down, parenthood is not as impossible as you might think. In fact, its pretty fantastic.
a
is for anxiety.
If youre reading this, have a penis, and have a pregnant significant other or boarding pass in hand to fly to a distant foreign country to pick up a small carbon-based life form, you should be riddled with the stuff. Thats the first thing to expect when youre expecting: to be scared shitless. Are you scared shitless? Congratulations. But remember, you were also really nervous the first time you got high and stole candy, and that turned out pretty cool.
b
is for breastfeeding.
It seems like such a wonderfully natural process: a brand-new baby searching instinctively for its mothers milk. How pure, how uncomplicated. And dogs make it look super easy. Fair warning: it will not be easy. After living in liquid for nine months, a toothless baby attempting to latch on to a dry nipple is like a dolphin playing a harmonica: there are lots of miscalculations and weird, guttural sounds. But when the little one manages to log on to the dairy server and establish that miraculous connection, its truly an incredible sight to behold. Even if it does clearly signify the end of your co-ownership of your wifes breasts.
c
is for coffee.
You say you love coffee? You have no idea what its like to love coffee. Not until you have kids. Its a whole different world. Until you have kids, you just like coffee. Are we cool on this?
d
is for diapers.
Most pending parents (OK, fathers) fear the soiled nappy more than lack of sleep, college tuition, or colic. True, they dont really know what colic is, so whats to worry about? There are even classes offered by hospitals specifically to help newbies learn the intricacies of changing the baby. What a joke. It will take you exactly one diaper change to realize its the easiest thing youll do as a parent. The smell, however, could trigger a coroners gag reflex. Breathe through your mouth and, whenever possible, ignore the full diaper until you can hand off the child to someone else. Then play dumb and claim that your allergies have you all kinds of stuffed up.
e
is for epidural.
Men dont beg and plead for four-inch-long shots in the spine. At least, men who arent Chuck Norris dont. But thats exactly what your better half will do. After nine months of nausea, backaches, hip pain, heartburn, and hormones as inconsistent as the Mets of the nineties, she will ask anyone within earshot to stick her with a ginormous needle in her largest cluster of nerve endings. Its a beautiful ending to the miracle of pregnancy. And a final reminder that there is no way you could ever do this.
f
is for free time.
You will have less of it. Far less. Shockingly less. But you will use it with force and focus. You will become a cyclone of productivity, a partially domesticated Tasmanian devil complete with whirlwind sound effect and wagging tongue. During your newborns afternoon nap, you will cook, clean, write, phone, e-mail, spackle, paint, build, run, lift, and create absolutely lights-out photo albums worthy of national attention. Until the second kid comes along and then you just give up and snack.
g
is for gifts.
Accept them. From everyone. Birth announcements do more than announce the birth; they send a not-so-subtle message that in return for said announcement, you will be expecting some type of useful new baby thing, such as an ExerSaucer or Wii game console. Anyone on the mailing list bubble gets an announcement. You may feel a little awkward accepting all these gifts, but if your wedding taught you anything, its that gifts are cool and you dont pay for them.
h
is for help.
You are not expected to be Superman and Supermom. Know when to ask for help and dont be ashamed to do so. Heres a helpful guide: If you pour steaming coffee into his bottle, its time to ask for help. If you take Baby for a drive to tire him out and you fall asleep, its time to ask for help. If you cry watching Baby Einstein videos, its time to seek immediate psychiatric care.