Having a baby

I am a bit unsure why i have come of all paternal and also why dispite
a spell checker i have no control over my words.. Anyway I am on a sort
of .. roll and due to my vast intelect and creative mind have decided
to alert those would be "fathers" to think twice before ending your
nightly meetings with your monkey.

Lately I haven't had the opportunity to pour out some of the creative
juices brewing in my brain but tonight you are all blessed with my
beauty.

As my dear mother used to say.. "thank you lord for making my hole"

opps Me*

As my dear partner in crime and sarcastical mentor Bob600 would say..

"Scotchmen in snow play HARDBALL" I wish to share my final entry for
tonight.

The past 6 years of my life have been a whirlwind of activity and
emotional buzz with enough stimulus to counter the effects of three
large Quaalude's. I don't really know what sizes Quaalude's come in,
but using my imagination, I see them being roughly the size of clay
pigeons.

In 2002, I was partially credited for bringing new life in to this
world.
I say partially because as much as I'd like to take full credit for
this event, my wife did play a small part in the conception.
Albeit small, it was a vital role. It's not easy to find a dead horse
to have sex with. Please don't take that out of context. It's actually
very easy to find a dead horse to have sex with.

So we begat life. Gabrielle Rose was born on 19th Feb. The diameter of her
head, much like my giant quaalude, was the size of a clay pigeon.
Fortunate for me, I managed to keep my head forward of the happenings
down below. But as hard as I tried not to peak, I just couldn't help
looking. No disgusting analogy can do the event justice. But just in
case, let's try a couple!
* Like watching a bloody melon squeeze through two cuts of swollen, raw
sirloin.
* Like watching the insides of Chicken Cordon Bleu squirt out, except
instead of cheese and diced ham, it's a giant, slime-covered ham that
blinks. BLINKS!
If I haven't yet deterred you from having children, please read on.
Since that day, life has been nonstop fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants (if
you can even find them amidst a pile of vomit-ridden burp cloths and
seedy-mustard-shit nappy rags) action. They tell you that your life
will take a serious change once the baby arrives.
That statement doesn't do justice. Social life? Out the window.
Personal time? Out the window. Subscription to the amature wives? Out
the window. My wife threw them out the window.

Then there's the sleep. If you're anything like me (shaved shriveled),
you cherish sleep. You love sleep. People make fun of you because
you're in bed at 9:30 on a Saturday evening. But you don't care. YOU
LOVE SLEEP!

With a baby, you kinda' forget what it's like to have real sleep.
Before you had a child you lived a sedentary life with the occasional
excursion. Nothing too taxing on your system.
Now, you're up all day bouncing the baby and holding the baby. Feeding
the baby and rocking the baby. Changing the baby's nappy and trying to
figure out why the baby is crying.
WHY IS THE BABY STILL CRYING?
"Give it milk!"
I GAVE IT MILK!
"Check her nappy!"
IT WAS DRY!
"Burp it!"
I DID BURP IT WHAT IS GOING ON?
"Calm down. Babies can sense tension!"
I DID THAT, TOO! HOLY SHIT HER FACE IS TURNING RED AND SOME SORT OF
LIQUID IS SEEPING FROM HER EYES! CALL THE DOCTOR!

What I'm trying to say about sleep is that once you have a child, there
are no more opportunities to make up for lost sleep. And guess what
happens to you when you don't get enough sleep?

You turn in to a whiny, irritable bitch. I mean really. A bitch!
Lately, my wife and I have been on each other's last nerve.
"'Don't hold the baby that way?'

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" "You think you have all the
answers!"

"Don't rub the nappy-rash cream in! Just smear it you prick!"

You can spend an entire day pissed off at your significant other and
not know why. I don't know why I hate your guts right now, but I do and
it's because you did something to piss me off and it had something to
do with the baby.

And babies are selfish! I bet no one told you that one, either. All
they do is think about number one and the parents instantaneously
become mere providers. Mummy = milk jugs,

Daddy = Good at holding me.

During a late night session with Gabby, I was using all means to get
her to sleep.
This is a common tactic employed by parents; do any and everything you
can to get the baby to sleep.
Whisper in their ear. Bounce them. Rock them. Turn off the lights. Turn
on the lights. Play music. Turn on the television. Pacifier! Swing!
Sing? Cradle! SNUGGLI? CARSEAT? CAR RIDE? LATE-NIGHT WALK? WHY ISN'T
ANY OF THIS WORKING?!

Over the course of a few minutes her eyes would slowly close and relief
would come over me. At the first thought of putting her back in her
crib, her eyes would pop open as if to say, "HAHA dad! Fooled you! I'm
WIDE AWAKE!" So I'd grit my teeth, beg and plead to god for my child to
fall into a deep slumber. One that would keep her comatose for 8 hours.
Okay, I'm lying. I actually prayed for 8 days. Is that wrong?

At that particular moment of trying to rock my daughter to sleep, she
fixed her giant blue eyes with mine and formed a smile. It was a
toothless smile; gums from ear to ear. A bit like my bank manager after
he asked me to repay a loan.
My heart melted and my disposition changed. This kid has me wrapped
around her tiny little finger and I'm not ashamed to say it. I don't
care what you say, there is nothing more rewarding than to see my child
smile - and there's no way to truly understand that unless you have
your own.

Amidst all the confusion, chaos and lack of intercourse, your child
will use a smile as a beacon of light. It will remind you that despite
your superior intelligence and ability to provide, even on a fledgling
level, you're merely a puddle of smitten goo in the palm of your
child's hand.

And I guess what I'm trying to say is that it doesn't take much to
completely change your life. And you can't truly understand the joy
of having a child unless you have one.

But I wouldn't recommend having one