Keeping Malachi

This past weekend my wife and daughter went to visit family in South Carolina, leaving me alone with my one-year-old son, Malachi. It's significant because this was my first time watching him by myself  over an extended amount of time.

In the past, I have watched my daughter, Grace, who is 4, with my son for an entire weekend, and I have even traveled with both of them by myself. But to keep my son... with no other sibling as a playmate (distraction)... for a weekend -  well that was a task in itself.

When I first pitched the idea to my wife I said it would be a breeze. I joked to her, I'm gonna 'learn em' about what a man does this weekend.  But nothing could be further from the truth.

My brave proclamation was shot down almost immediately, when Malachi refused to eat the specially prepared breakfast I cooked for him. He began pointing away from his food and at the chocolate muffin bread my wife baked prior to her South Carolina sojourn.

Malachi eat your biscuit and eat your eggs. He began shoeing my hand away after each attempt. Then the tears came. After the tenth attempt and tears from both of us, I caved in and gave him the chocolate bread.

Since it was raining we were mostly confined to the house for the whole weekend. Malachi began a 5-room reign of terror, where he began emptying out the contents of the desks and cabinets in various rooms.

No, that belongs to your sister I yelled! No, that's your mother's crochet yarn, you can't play with that! Not the iPad! That's expensive!

After he calmed down a bit, then it was time for a nap. Malachi did not want to sleep. I put him in his crib thinking he would cry himself into his mid afternoon slumber, but instead as soon as I left the room I heard a huge thud! Malachi had jumped out of the crib and was on the run.

I gave in and let him stay up. We listened to music; played in the rain; played ball; caught colds; and watched wrestling on the WWE network! In that time I think he bumped his head 5 times, fell about three, and kneed me in the groin six times.  He even learned how to cut the vacuum on.  Oh and he kept refusing to eat his food!

Suffice to say when his mother and sister came home I was extremely happy. And I discovered it wasn't me 'learning' Malachi how to be a man, but the other way around. Yup. I'm a better man because of this weekend. Thanks Malachi.

Black fathers do stick around

A few weeks ago, I was in the park with my children and I came across a young father guiding his son ever-so-cautiously through the monkey bars. We briefly looked at one another and did a silent nod in agreement.

"That's what's up," he finally said in a monotone voice. The kid couldn't be any older than 21. But we instantly knew that we were two African American males breaking stereotypes surrounding black fathers. More often than not black fathers are stepping up and becoming a stronger component in their children's lives.

A CDC surveyed more than 3,900 fathers between 2006 and 2010 and found that black fathers were more likely to bathe, dress, play and dine with their children as compared to their White and Hispanic counterparts. 

It's a stark contrast from the biased reports that black fathers don't care or don't really take care of  their children. Most of my friends are great fathers - regardless if they're divorced, married or not even in relationships with the mother of the child. They're good men who walk with their sons and daughters every step of the way.

I get upset whenever we see the amazing (note my sarcasm) stories of men who have fathered 20 and 34 children and are treated like the norm. These men talk about putting in time with their children, but real fathers know how hard it is to spend the appropriate amount of time with just one child.

Thankfully, that's not the norm and there are numerous black fathers who care about their children and love them unconditionally.

Life lessons at the Park

A visit to the park Saturday turned very ugly for my 4-year-old daughter. She encountered some other 6-year-old girls on a slide, who began calling her a monster. When my daughter asked them to stop and apologize, they promptly did - noting that they weren't cry babies and were big kids.

But what was said next was even more troubling. "We better say sorry because she's black," one of the girls told the other.

My heart dropped when I heard those words. How does a six year-old even begin to say these words? I called to my daughter and told her that we don't play with people who display such rude behavior. I told her that there was no need to try and be friends with someone who was going to be constantly mean to her.

After we walked away, I told her that she was beautiful and that I was very proud of her. She smiled, and said daddy, whenever we find someone is mean to us and they keep being mean, we just walk away right. I replied "you're right princess."

I didn't try to find the parents of these mean girls. They were no where in sight. I didn't try and correct these misinformed young women. My only concern was preserving the heart and innocence of my beautiful 4-year-old Grace.

I can only imagine that there will be other times that could conceivably be a bit tougher. But I had no idea, that the color of my daughter's skin would come into play with her peers before she even got to kindergarten.

Reality of a Sleep Deprived Dad

After a long hard day at the office, there's nothing better that I would like to come home to than a hot meal to be shared around the dinner table with my family and a nice nightcap with my wife.

Unfortunately that doesn't happen.

What does happen is, I usually have dinner with me when I'm at work - it takes so long to get to the apartment complex, that my former personal trainer would skin me alive if I was to even take a bite of food when I reached home. 

My daughter Grace is usually hitting REM sleep. My wife is less than energized after a day of diaper changes; wardrobe changes; washing clothes; preparing meals; grocery shopping; and cooking.

When I get home I have dishes to wash, the dog to take out; and milk bottles to wash.

In fact it can lead to some pretty intense situations around the house, because frustrations can run at an all time high.

But you have to make time for yourself. You have to cut away and enjoy the few hours of time during the day that are truly yours. If you're not great on time management, having a baby will put you on the right path.

Let Sleeping Graces lie

My new schedule is quite ambitious. At six months Grace is now sleeping at 8 p.m. and waking up at 7 a.m.

So you would think my sleep deprivation would be over, right?  Not quite. Now I'm going to bed around 8:30 p.m. and waking up at 3:30 a.m.

When I told co-workers of this new schedule they immediately called me a lunatic. But in order to get things done and have osme time to myself, I have found that getting up for this early schedule actually works.

I'm able to have Bible Study, prepare for my day, workout; take out the dog and maybe even get some gametime in all before 7 a.m.  Now that's a tight schedule. If only I wasn't so sleepy all the time.

Mom and me

Things change. I think I was 13-years-old when I took this picture with my mother outside my aunt's house in North Carolina.

Now 20 years later, I'm all grown up, a bit taller and my mom is a grandmother. She recently came down for about three weeks to see my wife and I along with our bundle of joy Grace.

It was a surreal experience for me, because this was the first time since 1996 that I spent that much time with my mom.Where does the time go?

The one thing that I learned the most from her visit, other than I need to take care of myself and dress better, is that you never really stop being a parent.

My mom came to help me out during a tough time with Grace. And in helping out she gave me some of that sage wisdom she is known for.

"One of the best jobs you'll ever have is being a parent."

Looking at my daughter Grace, and remembering the short time I had with Benjamin - I have to admit...she's right.

Thanks mom.

The Grind

It was a hard day at work, and an even harder one at home.  

My palms were sweaty and my 4-month-old daughter wouldn't stop crying. My wife and I were in an argument over something so silly that I can't remember what it was about.

It was during that time I realized that I was stuck in the Grind.

The Grind, as defined as by The O.A.W. Report, is when you finally slow down in life, only to speed up, if that makes any sense.

It's a time when work becomes more hectic, the demands of the family grow, and personal time is virtually nonexistent. The only time there is peace, is when there is sleep, and to be honest often times or not, there isn't too much of that to be had.

The Grind is every bachelor's fear and every husband's eventual reality. You become thought of more for what you can do as opposed to being loved for who you are.

The sense of adventure seems to be gone as well. That adrenaline rush you get from a day out with the crew, is replaced by the rush that's produced to get you through the wide assortment of chores and tasks that you have to complete by the end of the day.

Your lunch break becomes a mad dash to do all the extra behind the scenes things at home that you won't be able to do once you get off. 

In a sense it's like you're on a constant deadline and failure to accomplish a task in the allotted  time equals an absence of peace in the valley. 

Grace and Fox in Sox

Now that Grace's acid reflux has settled down a great deal, her mother and I are able to read to her a whole lot more. One of her favorites is Fox in Socks by Dr. Seuss.

We received the book as a gift from one of my wife's girlfriends and for some strange reason Grace seems to gravitate toward it. Every time I read it to her she cracks a playful smile and laughs. She can be in the middle of a full blown out cry, but Fox in Socks always seems to intrigue her.

Perhaps its because the book is a bonafide tongue twister and she loves to see the look on her daddy's face as I squirm trying to capture every word of the classic tale.

I mean come on, who can say this with a straight face:

When beetles fight these battles in a bottle with their paddles and the bottle's on a poodle and the poodle's eating noodles they call this a muddle puddle tweetle poodle beetle noodle bottle paddle battle.

Yeah Grace, if I were you I'd be laughing too.

Grace and Acid Reflux

The past three weeks have been pretty tough for the family. Our little Grace has gone from a carefree baby, to a screaming banshee. The culprit is GERD - particularly the burning sensation in my little daughter's throat when she spits up.

We have tried everything to calm this down. You won't believe the amount of medicine she's on at this point.

Her mother and I have had roughly 12 hours of sleep in the last three weeks, nervously checking on Grace and constantly being kept up when she is in pain.

Our only recourse to get some sleep was to turn her on her stomach and lay her on us. Yes, we know about SIDS - but we also have a daughter that cannot lay on her back or she chokes on her own spit up.

Luckily we are experimenting with different formulas and we have a pretty good medication regimen that gives our daughter some peace.

In the past few days we've seen it working, as she has been in a cheerful mood and even cracked a couple of smiles toward at us, much to her mother's delight.

I have no doubt that in time we'll have this thing beat, so that we can all sleep peacefully at night.

Grace and the Great Poo

Earlier this week, I decided to do something great for my wife. I took off work for the day and kept Grace, our five-week-old daughter, while my wife left for a girl's day out.

Now before I go on with the story, it should be noted that this is not my first, nor is it even the second time I have kept my daughter by myself. I have even changed numerous pampers on my daughter throughout her month and one week existence.

Here's how it all unfolded. Shortly before my daughter's 1 p.m. feeding, I began to change her diapers. Unfortunately, the diaper change was happening in the middle of - what we'll call - a detailed transaction. I immediately pulled out a pamper and slid it underneath my daughter's soiled pamper, and waited for her to be finished.

When she was done, I simply discarded the old diaper, cleaned her off and put on the brand new one underneath. It was a simple as that, or so I thought.

But little did I know, Grace had other ideas for me. Somehow she began to restart the transaction, while I was about to put her clothes back on. Needless to say, I was caught off guard, but prepared for this. I just got a new pamper and proceeded to clean her off again.

Only this time, I was convinced that Grace was finished. Boy was I wrong. What happened next, is probably a scene that has occurred at least once in every new dad's life and the results were messy.

Grace restarted the transaction yet again, only this time I didn't have a backup pamper and some of it got on her clothes. Freaking out, I removed her clothes rather quickly, only to discover some of the transaction leaked onto her bassinet.

Furthermore, it saturated the small pad she was laying on. Oh crud, what am I going to do. Then stuff really got real. Grace, who is only a little more than eight pounds, still kept going.

My eyes turned blood shot read, as my little bundle of joy had a back covered in poop, and her had in turn ruined her nice pink outfit. The wipes that we had on standby near her bassinet were good, but they weren't miracle workers.

My first thought was, if I don't clean Grace up quick she's going to have some bacterial infection. My second and third thoughts respectively were, my wife is going to kill me, and ... my wife is going to kill me. My next thought was I've got to clean this up quick and wash Grace off. I quickly rubbed her down to make sure all of it was off and I took her upstairs and placed her on a towel, on our bed (big mistake). I ran and got a little tub to give her a thorough cleaning and to get some new clothes for her.

It should be noted, that Charlotte, our Boston Terrier, just stared at me like I was crazy the whole time. If she could talk, I believe she just would have hung her head in disbelief and said dead man walking.

But back to the story. Grace then began to cry and let out a huge wail, letting me know that this was uncomfortable. I washed her off quickly and was in the process of putting on a new pamper. She then got very quiet and just looked at me. I got in close to reassure her and give her a zerbert, when she hit me with one last parting shot.

No, not another detailed transaction, but rather a brief sprinkle, just to let me know who was really in charge of our household.

All I could do was laugh. When my wife finally got home, she asked a question that I don't think I will ever ask her again when I get home from work. Yes, these five simple words are enough to drive any new parent, who's watching a baby insane.

"So how did it go?"

It should be against the law to even utter this phrase.

But me being the person I am, I simply looked at my wife, and in a low-pitched tone, I said fine dear. Everything is fine. She smiled and said ok, and with that, I broke down and told her about my epic adventure with Grace and the Great Poo.

Rants of a Sleep Deprived Dad: Part II

Welcome to another installment of Confessions of a Sleep Deprived Dad. As always these are written when I'm at my the height of my drowsiness or sleep deprivation - or some term I'm too tired to look up. Anyhow, enjoy.

So, what do you do when your infant daughter has a restless night and won't calm down despite your best attempts. You strap her in the car seat and you take an early morning drive down Peachtree.

I found out two things during my early morning drive with Grace. First and foremost, there are a lot of people that cycle between the hours of 6 a.m. and 7:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning. Two, Atlanta really isn't that big - it just seems that way when there's a lot of traffic. And during Sunday morning there really isn't a lot of traffic on the roads during that time.

Anyhow, Grace and I enjoyed a pleasant stroll for nearly an hour. She was knocked out - not making a peep. It was incredibly different from her attitude during her 3 a.m. feeding. She stayed up and refused to go back to sleep. Oh we would hold hr for a bit, but it was clear to us that she really did not want to go back to bed.

Her mom, was at her wits end, so in order to give everyone a bit of peace, I loaded up Grace in the car and we took a little stroll. Within two minutes she was out colder than a pitcher of my wife's auntie's kool-aide on a hot summer day. Now that's cold.

It's amazing to me, but its something about riding in a car that actually soothes Grace. I wonder if there have been studies of this done. I suppose I could go to Google and look, but at this point, it's taking all my energy just to get this post out.

Anyhow, I hope that Grace sleeps a little better tonight. I really don't want to take her on another ride on Monday morning - not in the heart of Atlanta traffic.

Rants of a sleep deprived Dad

My wife and I aren't getting much sleep here lately. That's because our little baby girl Grace has the uncanny ability to wake up at 2 a.m. and cry until errr let's say around 5 a.m.

Nothing seems to soothe her. Rubbing doesn't work; cuddling her in my arms and walking back and forth for about 30 minutes straight doesn't work; even reading our favorite book, One Fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish doesn't seem to quite get it.

No little grace cries and then magically, as if someone has told her that its time to go to bed, she stops mid-cry and is out like a light. That's when my wife and I swoop in to get as much sleep as possible.

But we're working on that issue and several others. See in this new age of parenting, when the Internet is available and all kinds of other great advice, you can just Google what your baby is doing and self diagnose the infant yourself.

It's just that awesome. If your baby is crying for no reason at all, it's probably because she has some weird fungal bacteria growing in her nose. The best solution is to take her immediately to her pediatrician.

Is your baby not pooping? Google it and you will see the remedy for that is to put the small infant in a little tub and just jostle her legs around a bit and let the mud slide begin.

All these famous ideas and cures provided to you by moms who are just as sleep deprived as you are and make about as much sense. And they're available to you at anytime.

Here's what I think should happen. Internet service for new parents should be terminated until the child reaches 22 months. The parent should also take sleep deprivation classes about six months prior to the pregnancy. Oh and those books that give you insight on raising an infant - they should be gathered up tossed in a huge bon fire - cause guess what they don't work. I followed the instructions on how to get Grace to burp in five pats to a tee... and it still takes 10 minutes.