Four Months a Dad

Spread the diaper in the position of the diamond with you at bat. Then, fold second base down to home and set the baby on the pitcher's mound. Put first base and third together, bring up home plate and pin the three together. Of course, in case of rain, you gotta call the game and start all over again.

--Jimmy Piersal, on how to diaper a baby

Yesterday my daughter turned four months old. I've been a dad for four months, and I have to say that there is very little to compare to holding this little bundle and trading smiles and silly noises. I love to just hold her in my lap and make faces at her. She'll laugh a big, open-mouthed laugh, and I swear, she's the cutest thing to ever grace the face of the earth.

I still continue in my quest to be the world's best dad, and I think I'm doing a fair job. She's healthy and happy, and that's the whole point -- raise a healthy, happy baby. In fact, she's extremely healthy. She had her four-month checkup (and shots!!!) yesterday, and she weighed in at 19 pounds, 3 ounces and 27 inches long. She's big, but she's proportional. I feel like once she starts sitting up and crawling that she'll drop some weight, or at least level off in the weight gain.

She's started vocalizing, and it's the sound of angels. She has such a sweet voice, even when she's gurgling.

I hold out hope, as all parents do, that she will continue to be healthy and happy. I also hold out hope that I won't screw up too bad as a parent. I don't think I will, but there's always the possibility. Stay tuned for breaking developments.

Fatherhood!

There's no pillow quite so soft as a father's strong shoulder.

--Richard L. Evans

Wow. I've been a father for three weeks, and I'm just now getting time to write something about it. It's been an exhausting time, but rewarding beyond explanation.

I suppose I should get the preliminaries out of the way first:

Camille Grace Saunders, Born June 5, 2005, 8 pounds 2 ounces, 22.5 inches long.

There's just something different about being a father. It's not something that I think I can put into words. It is an exciting thing, yet scary at the same time, to find yourself entirely responsible for the health, well-being, happiness, and upbringing of a brand-new human being. I still secretly wonder if I have the knowledge to be a good father. I really hope that I do. I really just want to live up to the example that my dad set when I was growing up.

I must say that Camille has been an extremely good baby. She sleeps well, she eats well, and she cries only when she's hungry or needs her diaper changed.

The thing I'm happiest about is that she's an extremely cute baby. I know it's not something that I should worry about, but I really did worry about having an ugly baby. There's nothing worse than parents with ugly babies. They're justly proud of their progeny, but it's hard to be complimentary to a parent whose kid is a halloween mask with legs.

I've gotten more sleep than I expected, and I am happy about that. It helps that Leila's breastfeeding Camille. I don't have to get up for the feedings, since I'm not equipped for it.

Finally, I'm experiencing a love that I never knew existed. I love Leila with all my heart, but the love for a child is different than the love for a spouse. I guess that I have experienced a love of such intensity in my love for Leila, but there's something slightly different when you love your child. Knowing that you're responsible for her changes matters, and makes you want to be the best person you can be.

Lord knows, I am trying to be the best dad ever. I sure hope I succeed.

The Year of "Little One"

A baby is God's opinion that the world should go on.

--Carl Sandburg

As of midnight last night, this officially became the year of "Little One". "Little One" is our first child, due to be born on June 5. We refer to "Little One" as "Little One" because we have made the rather uncommon decision to not find out the sex. Some may think that this is strange, and not conducive to being prepared. Leila and I, however, have no real preference on the sex of our child (and so what if we did?).

Our main argument is that there are so few good surprises left in life, why shouldn't we just let this one happen on it's own. This is our first foray into the parenting world, and I have a feeling that the surprises that "Little One" will leave us will be nowhere near as pleasant as the surprise of finding out the sex upon birth.

Both of us are extremely excited about the forthcoming birth of our first child. I have to say, Leila is an absolutely gorgeous pregnant woman. She's also got a mother's instinct that cannot be denied. My fervent hope is that I will turn out to be as good a father as she will be a mother. I do not doubt my desire to be a good father. In fact, one of the only things I asked for specifically for Christmas was a book or two on being a good father. My worry is in the execution. If I screw up a program at work, I can go back and fix it. I'm pretty sure the same does not hold true for being a parent. I've got one shot at it, and I can't blow it.

All anxiety aside, I can't wait to become a father. My only question is what do I do if it's a girl? Not that I don't want a girl -- I truly don't have a preference. It's just that I have experience with boys. I used to be one. I have exactly zero experience with little girls. Plus, I'm pretty sure that a little girl will grow up to become a teenager who'll want to date. I'm also pretty sure that she'll want to get married. Scares the bejeezus out of me. But it's all part of parenthood.

All in all, I can't wait. I'm loving Leila being pregnant. She's absolutely glowing (and I didn't really know what that meant until she became pregnant!), and aside from the nausea, she's doing very well.

What a year it's going to be. The year of "Little One"!