Nov 30 2016
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The Manly Myth of Maternity Leave

By Parenting No Comments

The first 1-3 weeks as new parents might just be the hardest three weeks of your life.  On top of now being 100% responsible for another human, no your dog doesn’t count, you’re getting barely any sleep, you’re no longer allowed to play Xbox in your underwear, and work happy hours are now frowned upon to put it politely, or if you have an imagination, try saying this in your wife’s voice, “you’re fucking crazy if you think you’re going to that.”

As humans, we tend to resist change, but your first baby will inject more change into your life during the first 1-2 weeks of their existence than Obama promised throughout his entire 2008 presidential campaign, and you better adapt, adjust, and accept it because that baby is here to stay.

No matter how many parenting books or crappy daddy blogs you read, nothing can prepare you for these first few weeks as a new parent, except maybe Hell Week as a Navy Seal, I imagine that would prepare you for just about anything.  You will be challenged mentally and physically, but the first thing to be tested will be the perceptions you’ve created about parenting over the last 9 months.

It’s a little known fact for most first time parents with a penis, but maternity leave is NOT a 2-3 month vacation for your wife.  This is the one that really caught me off guard, let me explain.

Thoughts from Tom’s Man Brain:

Disclaimer: Some thoughts are exaggerated to create a point. I’m not this big of a dick in real life. I think.

  • I had to work 8+ hours today and sit in an hour of traffic on my way home.
  • You got to watch Gilmore Girls all day while an infant massaged your nipples.
  • I had to sit through 5 conference calls, and pretend to be interested.
  • You got to watch Gilmore Girls all day while an infant massaged your nipples.
  • I went to Taco Bell for lunch and had to wait 27 min for my food. I was starving.
  • You got to watch Gilmore Girls all day while an infant massaged your nipples.

I could go on, but I think you get the point.  My saving grace was the below article my wife shared with me, with the message, “This is 100% how I feel.”

Cure your stupidity and read the whole thing.

Another Disclaimer: No, I’m not being paid by your wife to bestow this wisdom upon you, but she should pay me.

A Day At Home With A Newborn

Written by: Sarah O’Grady

Originally published at: www.escapingnewyork.com

If you’ve never spent a day with a baby (but are considering it) you might want to use this as a what-to-expect guide. Or, as birth control.

My husband (“Bless his heart”) sometimes calls/texts/emails me from work to ask me to do something, or call someone about something or other. Normal husband and wife stuff, really. But when you’re home on maternity leave with an unpredictable, not-yet-on-a-schedule newborn, something as simple as “make an appointment for the exterminator,” or “call that business connection I hooked up for you” becomes an impossible task.

Case in point: Here I sit, typing this with one hand, and holding a pacifier in this fussy babe’s mouth with the other hand, while I use my right foot to rock the carseat she’s pseudo-napping in. That leaves me one foot left to, I don’t know, tap dance.

So here goes. Here’s a glimpse into what it’s really like to be home with a newborn. I warn you, it’s a long post, but then again, anyone who’s ever done this parenting shtick will understand why. And if one more person says, “You should nap when she naps!” I’m going to go postal on that motherfucker.

8am-noon: This time frame consists of me attempting to take a shower 47 times. But every time, as soon as my big toe hits the tile, baby starts crying. And so I step back out to soothe her, try again, and we do this until I give up, remembering that no one is going to see me today anyway. In fact, there’s probably a better chance of a zombiepocalypse than of me being able to get out of this house looking and feeling presentable. So with one leg shaved, I throw on yoga pants and slap on some deodorant. Ta-da!

Noon: Baby starts to whimper, making that familiar motion. You know, the one that says “I’m going to eat my fist, or the first thing that happens to fly by my face… maybe a mosquito, or a dust mite… but I’ll keep turning my face and opening my mouth until you whip that boob out and get the milk party started.” I halt. I was on my way to the kitchen to make myself lunch, but baby comes first.

12:30pm: Baby’s fed. She (loudly) pooped through the last fifteen minutes of it, so now I’m going to change her. Aw, she has hiccups. Isn’t that cute!

12:33pm: Why. Is. This. Baby. Flailing. Around. On. The. Changing. Table. AAGGGH — she just peed as I was swapping out the dirty diaper for a clean one! Now I have to change her… and the changing pad… She’s lucky she’s cute.

12:35pm: Who designs baby clothes?! Why is it impossible to get these things over her head? Is her head unusually large? Are these clothes too small? I feel like I’m trying to birth her through a onesie. This is insane. But it’s such a cute outfit I’m putting her in… her third of the day. No wonder I have to do laundry 16 times a day. Ok, we finally got it on. Adorbs!

12:36pm: Really, Gemma?? You choose NOW to barf?? ALL OVER YOUR ONESIE?!

12:40pm: Fourth outfit of the day. She’s wearing this hoodie towel and she’s gonna like it. It passes for boho baby fashion. I should take a selfie and post to Instagram. Such a trendsetter! #iheartbabies.

12:45pm: Awesome. Of COURSE I assumed after she spit up the equivalent of a large Jamba Juice all over herself there’d be nothing left to evacuate. But now it’s time for me to change into a hooded towel.

1:00pm: Why am I so hungry? Oh that’s right, I didn’t eat lunch yet. Or breakfast. Damnit, mommy brain. Ok, now is the perfect time for baby to go down for a nap. Let’s just get her wrapped up in this swaddle and turn on the Rockabye Baby Pandora station. (Bonus: early exposure to Pearl Jam is sure to be good for brain development, right?) Ok, she’s asleep! Winning!

1:14pm: Before I eat, I should gather up all the laundry and get that started. There’s so much goddamn laundry. Where does it all come from??

1:30pm: Ok, now I’m going to eat lunch, for real. (Rummages through fridge, finds leftovers to microwave.) Why are there no clean plates or forks? Ugh, I meant to empty the dishwasher from last night. Ok, better do it now while the babe is asleep.

1:40pm: Aaaaand my window of opportunity to eat lunch in peace like a normal adult just flew out the window. She’s awake. My god, does she have some sort of sixth sense? Was she sent here to earth to starve me to death?

1:43pm: Of course she’s hungry again! Well guess what; two can play this game. I’ll figure out a way to perch on this stool and nurse her while I eat these leftovers.

1:45pm: Awesome idea. I just dripped teriyaki sauce in her eye. FML.

2:00pm: I’m such a bad mommy. When’s the last time I did tummy time with her? We should do it now, so I don’t have guilt. Can you imagine if I delay her development because I forgot to put her on her tummy? Tiger moms everywhere are cringing.

2:10pm: That worked well. She HATED tummy time. Now she’s screeching like a banshee. And she spit up all over the play mat. So there’s another thing to wash. Add it to the list.

2:15pm: Text from hubby. “Did you call that guy yet? You should call him.” Good thing you’re texting me and not standing in front of me, dude, or I might dismantle your bones one by one.

2:25pm: Attempt call to exterminator. Hang up on lady twice, because baby is screaming in my face and woman can’t hear what I’m saying about ants in the laundry room. This isn’t worth it, I’ll live with the ants.

2:30pm: It must be almost the end of the day, right? Please tell me hubby will be here soon to relieve me of these duties called parenting. IT’S ONLY 2:30?! THROW ME FROM A TRAIN.

2:31pm: I feel guilty when I get frustrated with all of this. So now I’m going to hold my adorable baby and rock her and tell her I’m sorry for getting annoyed and wanting to do anything else other than hold her and kiss her face all day.

2:35pm: Except I’d really like to send a couple of emails. I have to reply to a couple of things regarding some project opps. And damn if I didn’t promise that one new client that I’d get them a quote by this Friday. What’s wrong with me? I’m an idiot. I’ll be lucky if I even get a shower by Friday.

3:00pm: Baby slept on my chest while I typed with one hand and sent a couple of emails. Now I should try to call that guy back so hubby doesn’t think I’m totally inept. Except baby just started stirring.

3:01pm: Full frontal meltdown.

3:05pm: I may need someone to stage an intervention. Why is this baby so fired up?

3:10pm: WHAT IN ALL THAT IS SACRED HAS HAPPENED TO MY SWADDLE SKILLS?? HOW DOES THIS BABY GET OUT OF A SWADDLE WITHIN SECONDS OF ME WRAPPING HER? WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME? I’m starting to think those kids on “16 and Pregnant” are more qualified than me.

3:15pm: Need to call my bestie. She’s on maternity leave too… need to kvetch about my inability to swaddle. And hemorrhoids.

3:35pm: Awesome call with bestie. She always knows what to say. Ew, why does this child smell so badly? Um, why is my arm all wet? UGH. Baby pooped through clothes. And swaddle. At least she poo’d on my not-clean arm. Other arm still smells like Aveeno from my half-shower.

4:00pm: Well now’s as good a time as ever to get laundry out of dryer. Since we have no more clean clothes for baby anyway. Guess I should do another load.

4:15pm: Did I ever eat lunch? I can’t remember. I’m starving. Must stop in kitchen at some point soon and get a snack before I die.

4:20pm: Ok, I’ve finally got this baby swaddled. We are ready for a nap! Annnd of course my breastfeeding app just alerted me that it’s time to feed her again. Awesome. I am the worst planner ever. And the worst mom ever, clearly, because it only took me an hour and a half to swaddle a 5-week old. I’m not cut out for the big leagues.

5:00pm: It’s 5:00?? Already? Where has this day gone? Did I even let the dog out today? And what am I feeding this family for dinner? I don’t even understand how it’s possible that it’s 5pm. I want to crawl in a hole. But I’m starving. And I have nothing to make for dinner. Damn you, world!

5:05pm: Call the hubby. Meekly ask him to pick up Chipotle on way home. Feel like failure of a wife and mother. How is it I haven’t left this house all day and the only human who remains fed is the baby?

5:43pm: Baby FINALLY drifts off to sleep, after I build a contraption with a sound machine, strap it to the carseat, swaddle her so the binky is held in her mouth with the swaddle blanket. Because if that binky falls out, apeshittedness will be reached.

5:45pm: Hubby and son walk in door. Baby is sleeping so peacefully, you could put her on stage at a Foo Fighters concert and she wouldn’t wake up. I look like I’ve been through the meat grinder. Hubby looks at me, looks at baby, and says…

“So what’s the problem? She looks pretty content to me…”

End scene.

 

Written by: Sarah O’Grady

Originally published at: www.escapingnewyork.com

Nov 11 2016
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Election Wisdom from Mike Rowe

By Politics No Comments

Off The Wall

Hey Mike. You’ve been very quiet. Everything OK? I just wanted you to know that I voted for you. I was also hoping you might explain what the hell happened on Tuesday, and say something to make me feel better about my fellow man. Thanks,
Carol Savoy

Hi Carol

Last Friday, my dog posted a video that featured a man licking a cat with the aid of a device that’s designed for the specific purpose of making it easier for people to lick their cats.I’ve been silent ever since, because frankly, I couldn’t think of a better way – metaphorical or otherwise – to express my feelings about this election cycle. The entire country it seems, has been preoccupied with finding a way to lick a cat without actually putting their tongue on it.

cat-lick-largeToo oblique? Too weird? Ok, how about this analysis:

Back in 2003, a very unusual TV pilot called Dirty Jobs, Forrest-Gumped its way onto The Discovery Channel and found an audience – a big one. For Discovery, this was a problem. You see, Dirty Jobs didn’t look like anything else on their channel. It wasn’t pretty or careful. It took place in sewers and septic tanks, and featured a subversive host in close contact with his 8-year old inner child who refused to do second takes. Everyone agreed that Dirty Jobs was totally “off-brand” and completely inappropriate for Discovery. Everyone but the viewers. The ratings were just too big to ignore, so the pilot got a green-light, and yours truly finally got a steady gig.

But here’s the thing – Dirty Jobs didn’t resonate because the host was incredibly charming. It wasn’t a hit because it was gross, or irreverent, or funny, or silly, or smart, or terribly clever. Dirty Jobs succeeded because it was authentic. It spoke directly and candidly to a big chunk of the country that non-fiction networks had been completely ignoring. In a very simple way, Dirty Jobs said “Hey – we can see you,” to millions of regular people who had started to feel invisible. Ultimately, that’s why Dirty Jobs ran for eight seasons. And today, that’s also why Donald Trump is the President of the United States.

I know people are freaked out, Carol. I get it. I’m worried too. But not because of who we elected. We’ve survived 44 Presidents, and we’ll survive this one too. I’m worried because millions of people now seem to believe that Trump supporters are racist, xenophobic, and uneducated misogynists. I’m worried because despising our candidates publicly is very different than despising the people who vote for them.

Last week, three old friends – people I’ve known for years – each requested to be “unfriended” by anyone who planned on voting for Trump. Honestly, that was disheartening. Who tosses away a friendship over an election? Are my friends turning into those mind-numbingly arrogant celebrities who threaten to move to another country if their candidate doesn’t win? Are my friends now convinced that people they’ve known for years who happen to disagree with them politically are not merely mistaken – but evil, and no longer worthy of their friendship?

For what it’s worth, Carol, I don’t think Donald Trump won by tapping into America’s “racist underbelly,” and I don’t think Hillary lost because she’s a woman. I think a majority of people who voted in this election did so in spite of their many misgivings about the character of both candidates. That’s why it’s very dangerous to argue that Clinton supporters condone lying under oath and obstructing justice. Just as it’s equally dangerous to suggest a Trump supporter condones gross generalizations about foreigners and women.

These two candidates were the choices we gave ourselves, and each came with a heaping helping of vulgarity and impropriety. Yeah, it was dirty job for sure, but the winner was NOT decided by a racist and craven nation – it was decided by millions of disgusted Americans desperate for real change. The people did not want a politician. The people wanted to be seen. Donald Trump convinced those people that he could see them. Hillary Clinton did not.

As for me, I’m flattered by your support, but grateful that your vote was not enough to push me over the top. However, when the dust settles, and The White House gets a new tenant, I’ll make the same offer to President Trump that I did to President Obama – to assist as best I can in any attempt to reinvigorate the skilled trades, and shine a light on millions of good jobs that no one seems excited about pursuing. http://bit.ly/2fG1SxI

Like those 3 million “shovel ready” jobs we heard so much about eight years ago, the kind of recovery that Donald Trump is promising will require a workforce that’s properly trained and sufficiently enthused about the opportunities at hand. At the moment, we do not have that work force in place. What we do have, are tens of millions of capable people who have simply stopped looking for work, and millions of available jobs that no one aspires to do. That’s the skills gap, and it’s gotta close. If mikeroweWORKS can help, we’re standing by.

If not, I suppose we’ll just have to find another way to lick the cat.

Mike

(The original post can be found below.)

Dec 23 2015
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Diclegis…God Bless You.

By Finances, Parenting One Comment
Morning sickness might have you throwing up last night’s dinner, but there’s no need to throw up last week’s pay check too.

 

Pharmacist: Alright sir, your total comes out to $743.36

Me: Ummm, I think my wife is just going to have to suffer for a few more weeks.

Pregnancy is expensive.  I knew this going in, but I figured the bulk of the costs would stem from the pregnancy itself.  Most health insurance plans have a “pregnancy co-pay” up front that covers a few doctors visits and a couple of ultrasounds before the delivery.  Then, they hit you with the big bill, hospital fees, doctor fees, epidural fees, delivery fees, etc.  I wasn’t expecting a large bill for anti-nausea/morning sickness meds.  Not forking out $700 for nausea meds might have been a wise financial decision…but it definitely was NOT the best “supportive husband” decision.  I vividly remember the look of terror on Kialy’s face when I returned home without the Diclegis.  Follow along at your own risk.

 

So here’s what happened.  Kialy started experiencing morning sickness around the 13th week.  She wasn’t throwing up (at first), but she was extremely nauseous, and working the night shift sure wasn’t helping.  Thankfully the onset of this morning sickness coincided with one of her scheduled doctor’s visits.  During the appointment, her doctor recommended trying out Diclegis, and she conveniently had a free week’s sample.  The Diclegis starting to kick in after a few days and the nausea disappeared, but after a week she was out of samples so we had her doctor order a prescription.

When I went to fill the prescription I was shocked to find out that our insurance didn’t cover it, and on top of that, they wouldn’t accept the $30 coupon I had, without her doctor filling out a ton of paperwork, and last, it was going to cost $700+.  So naturally, being the cheap ass that I am, I left with free prenatal vitamins instead.  Once she got past the initial shock of me coming home empty handed, it really wasn’t that bad.  She called her doctor up and asked for more free samples, and I picked up 3 weeks worth of samples up the next day.

The reason I wanted to share this story is because it’s easy to just accept that pregnancy is expensive and shell out tons of $$$ without even thinking twice.  And sure a lot of it is expensive, but you have to know when to call B.S.

If your wife has bad morning sickness, here are a few pointers that could help you save some $$$:

  • There’s nothing magical about Diclegis.  All it is, is unisom and vitamin b6, both drugs you can get over the counter, but Diclegis IS time released so you take it once or twice a day and your covered.
  • There are plenty of alternatives out there.  Be sure you check your insurance before having your doctor call in a prescription.  Zofran is another popular morning sickness drug that is covered by most insurance providers, and it doesn’t make you sleepy like Diclegis.
  • Ask your doctor for FREE samples!  They have tons of this shit just sitting in a closet in their office.  They are usually more than happy to hand the stuff out like candy, unless they’re hoarding it for themselves… and well, if you have any leftover…you know what the going rate is…
Dec 16 2015
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A Trip To Mexico, $3,500. 6 Pregnancy Tests, $36. Becoming a Baby Daddy, Priceless.

By Finances, Parenting, Potpourri, Projects No Comments
Learning that you’re going to be a father for the first time is an exhilarating feeling. Here was my immediate thought process.

 

OMG babe I am so excited!
Are you sure I’m the father?
Holy shit I’m going to be a father.

It truly is an amazing whirlwind of emotion.

I have been wanting to start a “personal” blog for quite some time now, but it seems as though every time I get a good idea for a witty domain main and blog topic, Netflix releases a new season of House of Cards…How do you compete with that?  Now that Kialy is almost 20 weeks pregnant, in true procrastination form, I figured NOW would be an excellent time to document this journey.

As a warning to my readers, I have never done this before, so please do not hold me accountable for any parenting mistakes you might make as a result of reading this blog.  In fact I hope you will be able to learn from the many mistakes I am sure to make.

“A smart man learns from his mistakes. A wise one learns from the mistakes of others.”

 

My goal for this blog is simple.  Inspire more people than I offend.  I figure if I set that bar low, I am sure to succeed.  I would also like to use this blog as evidence to my children in the future, that their father was once a pretty cool & witty dude.

I’ve always been fascinated by the internet’s ability to connect people.  It’s amazing how open people are willing to be in the hope that they might connect with someone, somewhere…No i’m not talking about Ashley Madison…  This blog is my attempt to be open in the hope that I am able to connect with others who have gone through or are currently going through similar experiences.  I also hope that when you’re bored at work and tired of hitting the refresh button on Yahoo’s home page, that you’ll find entertainment & inspiration in this blog.

Enough of the sappy stuff…

 

For those who don’t know us, I figured it would be beneficial to share some details to help set the stage for the many blog posts to come.

My wife Kialy, pronounced “Kylie”, and I have been married for just over a year.  She found out she was pregnant back in September, the day after my 26th birthday.  She’s a labor & delivery nurse, which is comforting knowing she knows what to expect when you’re expecting…see what I did there?

walking married

Now me on the other hand, am not a nurse, and have a hard time pronouncing most prescription drugs.  My degree is in accounting, but I have spent the last two years in software sales.  My true passion is music.  In college I played guitar in the band “Airplanes,” and I still operate a small home recording studio, working with local St. Louis artists.  I’m sure that’s all about to change!

In fear of giving you enough information to steal my identity…I’m going to end it here.  Be sure to subscribe to my weekly news letter to stay up to date with all of my posts!

-Tom (pronounced, “Tom”)

For the story on how the name “Mandoula” came about, be sure to visit the “About Us“ page.

 

Shower Thoughts