New Dad Syndrom

So why is it that Dad’s are the bumbling idiots of the parenting world? I don’t know but I have a theory. (Of course I do) As men we are out of our element. We realize on some deep spiritual level that babies are way too important to just handle the typical man way: Throw out the instruction booklet and just play around with things until you figure it out. Or better yet take it apart and see how it works. No, suddenly the proper way to do things is VERY important. Its not just the baby.. that would be enough to set us back I am sure -but it’s all the stuff that surrounds the baby, its car seats and baby cribs, strollers, bouncy seats, mobiles, swings, cradles, breast pumps and playpens that pushes us over the edge…. at least it was for me. First lets start with trying to get the car seat in the blazer at the hospital:1 HOUR, 4 nurses, 3 family members, 2 crumpled instruction booklets (English and Spanish version), an Owner’s manual to a 2000 Chevrolet Blazer and the hospital maintenance engineer!That’s what it took to get the car seat properly installed into the back seat of Faith’s Blazer …and balanced. Oh it has to be balanced! LAWS YES! If you don’t get the little bubble exactly in the center of the little doohickey then the center of gravity to the whole contraption will be cast out of whack and the baby will be tilted too far one way or the other and at the first stop sign her eyes will pop out of her head! -I DON’T KNOW WHY but it HAS to be balanced! It says it has to be so it has to be! I have never taken so much for granted in my entire life! “Just because it says so” is a perfectly acceptable answer now. Never has been before but is definitely now! I mean if you don’t do it and the thing (what ever it is) falls and breaks your kids arm then the CPS will come revoke your Dad card, take the child away and stamp your forehead “LOOSER”. Consider this: growing up I would willingly take a beating for the following:Me: “Why?”Mom: “Because I said so!”Me: “That’s not good enough, I have to know why or I’m not gonna do it!”Mom: beating!Case in point: Mom was changing a bulb one time on a lamp in the living room. I was six. “Don’t stick your finger in the light socket, I will be right back.” (in hind sight that WAS a stupid thing to say around a six year boy) “Why?” I said. “Just don’t” she said and went to get a new bulb. 7 seconds later- SCHIPOW! And I was screaming (words I wasn’t supposed to know) and my finger was throbbing! Result: beating. I had to know why! Just had to! –Not anymore. Don’t insert tab B until tab A is fixed with screw G. OK fine! Sounds reasonable. “Stick your tongue out the left side of your mouth and tighten washer nut onto the spindle jiggit.” –Good, fine, I don’t have a clue what’s going on here, just tell me what to do next!I learned this lesson putting together the baby bed even before Helen was born. I just did what I had always done if it was constructed properly then I should be able to look at the parts and just tell how it goes together! I got finished… got it all together with only 3 extra bolts and one extra tab B thingy, no prob! Its all together! Looks great! Then Faith set her teddy bear in it and it collapsed right on my foot. WHAMDAGGLE! After surgically removing a tab C for my big toe I took out the instructions! After all poor teddy had severe trauma to his noggin region and an eye button had popped off and was wedged into slot E. The thought of that being my baby broke me. I suddenly found myself reading instructions!After the baby got here though everything got even more serious! After you hold that precious little tender tiny breathing creature suddenly your feet seem incredibly clumsy and for the first time without a police officer present you actually wonder if you can walk in straight line without stumbling. So now there are no chances taken and I find myself reading all the instructions in English and in Spanish and making sure 5 times that its together exactly the way the baby product factory tested it. I was never a big supporter of animal testing until that day at the hospital when I pulled out of the parking lot with that little delicate angel in the little piece of molded plastic in the back seat. At that moment I hoped they had strapped baby monkeys by the dozen in that thing and drove them off cliffs until it was perfect! (I wonder how you get baby monkey poop off upholstery.)So this was the beginning to the end of my active brain. Before long I was just a instruction wielding buffoon I even started using the little dinky tools that came in the packing thinking I didn’t want to over torque anything. I know, I know “pathetic” but super gluing a baby swing together suddenly seems dangerous for some reason. You’re holding some cheap little piece that snapped off because you looked at it wrong and in your male brain you know that you could JB Weld it tonight and tomorrow set the whole swing on fire, tie it to a paint mixer and drop it from a B-52 from 30,000 feet and the only recognizable piece you would ever find in the rubble is the little JB Weld patch! But then you glance at your little darling infant and the phrase “Why chance it” flashes across your mind and you toss the whole thing on the curb and go buy another $80 swing instead! -Buffoon! Oh I have much more proof:I was the first one to make the baby cry from pain knocking her head against the car doorframe then I scared her to death almost dropping her off the changing table. Then last month I was holding her in Best Buy when she leaned backwards right out of my arms and right onto a computer keyboard with her head! She typed OwYYYY! and screamed for 10 minutes while everyone in the store including Faith stared at me with that “You’re lower than pond scum maggots and should be taken out into the parking lot and flogged!” look. Then Faith took me out in the parking lot and FLOGGED ME! Have you ever been flogged? It’s not pretty.Just recently I was trying to be nice and make up all the bottles of formula for the day and put them in the frig before I left in the morning. Two days in a row I was a hero for making my sweet beautiful wife’s day so much easer by taking on this 5 minute chore! I was so proud of myself and quite deserving of praise I might add. Then the night of the second day Faith was very perplexed by the fact that Helen was drinking like a maniac and still seemed to be hungry. I mean she couldn’t eat anymore she was spitting up with every burp but still wanted more. Then she just casually asked about the formula and we discovered I had been using half of the amount of formula as I was supposed to for that amount of water. I had cut her caloric intake in half! Since then I have gotten half portions for supper every night.You think that would be enough. You know that I would loose my baby privileges altogether but in some ways women are just as stupid as us men because for some reason they are convinced we can do better. – AND WILL! -Nope! Just last night she walked in while I was giving Helen a bath and asked why I was washing her (and I was scrubbing good too) with baby lotion? You would have thought I would have noticed the lack of suds but evidently I am a complete idjit! I used to be smart. I don’t really know what happened but I think it started with the surrender to the instructions.