Baby Frank

Welcome to the world, Frank.

Born at 2:53am. 7 lbs, 12 oz. His father says he has a big head (more evidence that he has Dad's genes). 19 inches long.

Mom and baby both doing great.

I will post a photo tomorrow morning, assuming they're able to get one to me.

Monday Weigh-In

Starting weight: 243.2 (July 2)
Current weight: 231.4 (July 30)
Total Weight Loss: 11.8 pounds
Weight Change this week: -3.4 pounds

Good week for weight loss. That's nice because I have some upcoming danger spots, like a business trip out of town and a bachelor party in Key West. I'm happy to report that my jowls are gone. I was developing some very impressive basset-hound type flaps on my face and I think they've completely disappeared. (I wasn't sure if it was my weight or aging, so this is a nice surprise).

In other news, still waiting on the birth of the Undaground nephew in New Jersey. I think yesterday was the actual due date, so he's late (which makes me believe he takes after his father).

The Undaling is obsessing over Elmo these days. Elmo's cool, and I can accept that. I'm so happy it wasn't Barney. We've done our best to shield him from that purple freak. He's still cruising furniture and I think he'll take his first steps sometime in the next month. No pressure, son. Honestly.

He's also experimenting a lot with language. He has his own words for cat, dog, monkey (Bob), and Moooooooo. Dada is still his favorite word, but Mama is his favorite person.

Live Blogging from Daddy Daycare

Just me and the boy today... at home.

Daycare lady is on vacation for 2 weeks, so I'm taking one day and Mrs. U is taking 9.
That sounds fair, right?

Oh, first things first. I weighed in at 235.0 today. I'm going to get on the scale again in a little while and see if I can't get a lower starting weight this week. I have to blame the low weight loss on a great dinner at a friends house Saturday night. It's hard to count points when the host plates the food for you.

Here we go:

7:14am: Mrs. Undaground sneaks out the door and leaves for the day.

7:30am: I heat up an Eggo for the boy's breakfast. Then, over the course of 30 minutes, he puts tiny pieces into his mouth and quickly demands more. If I gave him the whole thing, he would most certainly shove it all in his mouth at one time. Apparently, at this stage, putting food in the mouth is much more fun than chewing and swallowing.

7:52: Three loud baby farts and some grunting. This is officially the first time in the day that I panic. Please make this a slow-metabolism day, Undaling.

8:00am: OK. Changing table no good since baby is in phase where he fights diaper and clothing changes with everything he's got. I move to the living room floor. I am armed with a diaper, wipes, diaper rash cream, and a strong resolve. He is armed with underdeveloped fists of fury and a baby mean streak that would predict a future in cagefighting.

8:03am: Getting the diaper off is the easy part. What a treat! The grunting and gas was a false alarm. He's just wet. Nonetheless, he treats the changing like a warm-up sparring match and definitely gets the better of me. If that had been an actual emergency, our walls would be painted with baby poop. Note to self: I might have to change poopy diaper while he sleeps.

8:07am: Baby is happy and toddling around in walker. I blog. Now he's looking at me for direction. I must find something to entertain him until morning nap time (approx 930am). I shall fire up the tivo and try Elmo. (to be continued - time permitting_).

8:50am: Early nap. I attribute this to his hour-long opera aria this morning from 4am-5am. Just as I got him down, the lawn guys arrived and are now buzzing past his window with a weed-whacker. If he wakes up from that, it will surely upset the balance of the rest of the day and I'm in for it. Note to self: step one: invent a quieter weed-whacker, step two: tba, step three: profit. Despite my dread from the lawn guys, I must remark on the overwhelming feeling of freedom that occurs as I slowly close the door of the baby's bedroom. It's not unlike the feeling you get in college when you show up to class and the professor is nowhere to be seen. When that would happen, we'd go to a bar and enjoy fried food and beer. With my current momentary freedom, I will use the bathroom and eat a weight watchers 1 point carrot cake. My, how times have changed. (to be continued).

9:05am: If I go more than three hours between now and 430pm without updating, it means I'm in trouble. If this happens, somebody please call Supernanny, stat. Baby still napping. Weed whacker is gone. Phew.

After a "moment of personal reflection and positive thinking", I now weigh 234.8, and will accept that number as this week's starting weight. So, here's the official update:

Starting weight: 243.2 (July 2)
Current weight: 234.8 (July 23)
Total Weight Loss: 8.4 pounds
Weight Change this week: -1.4 pounds

(to be continued)

9:40am: Baby woke up at 9:30. 40-minute nap. Still no poopy diaper. I think I just changed a clean one. Nothing like throwing diaper money away. Oh well, maybe he had a "not-so fresh feeling". Somehow, I miraculously got him dressed and ready for the day, and now he's chugging a bottle. As soon as that's done, we're going to take a father and son trip to Walgreens to get some baby Ambesol for his aching gums. I'm not sure if his clothes match, but I still look at him being dressed as a win for me.
(to be continued)

10:56am: The eagle has landed. Wow! We got back from Walgreens with Orajel in hand (not ambesol, orajel). We started playing on the floor, then, I smelled it. I had a mini-panic attack and all the blood rushed from my face. After a few minutes of rocking back and forth and singing Swing Low, Sweet Chariot, I scooped up the soiled infant and pressed on. I decided to use the changing table and strapped him down (even though that doesn't stop him from rotating around like a rotisserie). I made every goofy sound I could and then started talking in a Swedish accent, telling him I'm the Swedish nanny, Sven. He was distracted and amused just long enough for me to get the job done without incident. Some higher power took over my hands as I was changing him, and, just for a moment, I was like a diaper-changing ninja (a Swedish diaper changing ninja). I thanked him profusely after the event and we have moved on.

FYI: If Mrs. Undaground asks, the poopy diaper experience went horribly. I pulled a hamstring and shouted every swear in the book. The baby's possibly scarred for life. I accidently kicked the dog, and I broke the knob on the dresser. I am no good at poopy diapers. I repeat... NO GOOD at poopy diapers. Carry on.

Now, as I prepare to publish this update, I think he's pooping again. (to be continued).

1:18pm: Lunch time was a success. Turkey and vegetables for the boy (in jarred form). He doesn't like to be fed from a spoon ever since he can feed himself with his hands, so this was another major victory. I had to fool him into every bite by doing the airplane sound and then making an explosion noise with my mouth each time a spoonful landed in his gullet. I don't have some twisted fascination with plane crashes; I just do what I need to do to get the boy to eat. Besides, I don't believe the little spoon-shaped planes carrying turkey and veggies were actually crashing. They were just making hard landings in his mouth.

The grunting earlier was a false alarm and he wasn't pooping. I think he is now, though, but I hope I'm wrong again and he'll save the second one for when Mom comes home. The boy sure does grunt a lot. Wonder where he gets that. (to be continued).

2:17pm: This will more than likely be my last update. The boy has been asleep for his afternoon nap for about 20 minutes. That gives me anywhere between 20 more minutes to an hour before he's up. Bottle is locked and loaded and ready to go in the fridge. I've eaten. All is well.

There were a few casualties today that I'd be remiss if I didn't mention. I am wearing my third t-shirt of the day because of various fluids and substances that I somehow like to wear. Also, it looks as if a tornado hit Babies R Us and then hovered over our living room for a little while. Other than that, I'm proud to say the child is fed, clean and well-rested and nothing happened today that will have him bitching about it in therapy when he's twenty.

Seacrest, out.

Monday Weigh-IN

Starting weight: 243.2 (July 2)
Current weight: 236.2 (July 16)
Total Weight Loss: 7 pounds
Weight Change this week: -2.8 pounds

Not bad. My spare tire is now one fit for a family sedan, rather than an oversized SUV.

Sorry the blog updates have been few and far between. The dog days of summer have been busy.

Happy Birthday to Third-Born. The big three-oh... and, about to become a Dad any day now. "Feliz Cumpleanos Hermano", which, of course, means "Happy Birthday Herman."

Good Monday Morning

Accountability
Starting Weight: 243.2
Current Weight: 239.0
Weight Loss in Past Week: 4.2 pounds

Not bad for a week that included two barbeques and a trip out of town. Plus, no real exercise to speak of besides carrying the boy around in his car seat and bending down repeatedly to pick up items he's thrown on the floor.

Tooths
Speaking of the Undaling, his top two front teeth are coming in now. I think I can feel the bottom ones as well. He seems to be doing very well with the teething. We really haven't noticed any difference in his mood. He is fascinated by these teeth, and constantly feels them with his tongue. His favorite word is now "Aaa". Sounds like the "a" in "cat" or "hat". To him, "Aaa" seems to mean all sorts of things, including:

"Hey, look at me."
"Hey, look at that."
"Hey, give me another piece of food."
"Good morning."
"Good night."
"This is a good television program."
"I seem to have soiled my diaper."

And much, much more.

Viva Kobayashi!

Did you watch the Nathan's 4th of July hot dog eating contest yesterday? If not, I feel for you. It was one of the finest dramatic moments in sports that I've ever witnessed. This will be a match that I'll tell my grandkids about. For my grandkids, it will probably be the first sign that Grandpa's losing it, but that's besides the point.

Joey Chestnut defeated Kobayashi, by eating 66 hot dogs and buns in just 12 minutes. (that's one hot dog every 10.9 seconds.) For a moment, it looked like it was going to be a photo finish, until Kobayashi had what they call a "reversal" in the last 10 seconds of competition. That's a fancy sports term for puking. After watching it, I almost had a reversal of my own, but was able to keep it together.

The Undaground blog would like to honor this great champion, Kobayashi. He won the contest the previous 6 years. He is the Lance Armstrong/Tiger Woods/Babe Ruth of competitive eating, and he went out like a true champion, besting his own career record by more than 9 hot dogs. On this day, Joey Chestnut was just better.

Just for kicks, I added up the Weight Watchers points for 66 Nathan's hot dogs and buns. In 12 minutes, Joey Chestnut ate 726 points worth of food. Under my current plan, that's the equivalent of what I'm allowed to eat in 19 days. It would take Mrs. Undaground 36 days to eat that much. Incredible.

In a related note, I ate 8 Tostitos Baked scoops with salsa last night in under 5 minutes. Weight Watchers points: one.

I fully expect Kobayashi to train even harder this year, and return next year to try to reclaim his mustard yellow belt. I'm not sure anybody will ever hit 66 again, but fans of the sport once thought 40 hot dogs was impossible.

D-day

243.2.

That's my starting weight.

It's easily the most I've ever weighed in my life. It's about fifteen pounds more than my weight on my wedding day. It's a few pounds more than the height of my "pregnancy weight", when I went on a crash diet and lost 15 pounds (only to gain it back while celebrating the joy of fatherhood).

My wife is doing Weight Watchers for a month. She wants to lose 8 or 9 pounds to get back to pre-pregnancy Mrs. Undaground. I've decided to join her. I had two choices: go on a diet, or gain another 100 pounds to qualify for gastric bypass surgery. Even though gaining 100 pounds would be fun, it would probably have a negative effect on other aspects of my life (like my range as a softball shortstop and having to buy a new "fat guy" wardrobe.)

The Biggest Loser resumes on NBC in the fall. Last year I watched as a 400 pound guy lost weight week after week. When there were about 4 episodes left, he passed me, then continued to lose weight until he weighed 75 pounds less than me. I don't want to go through that viewing experience again.

So, every Monday morning, I will step on the scale and report my weight here, for accountability.

Stay tuned.

Goal weight? I don't really have one, but in a perfect world I'd hover around 200-205. I'd be able to buy pants at Old Navy again if I lost 20, so that's my immediate goal. Until then, I might have to visit Big and Tall man store.

They say it's a lifestyle change. I'm fine during the weekdays. It's the weekends and the evenings where I need to change. No more TGIFridays fried macaroni and cheese, unless I'm willing to use up an entire day's worth of "points" on them. As long as my wife is making whole wheat tortillas wrapped around rabbit food for dinner, I should lose some weight.

When I arrived at work this morning, you guessed it, there were donuts. I looked right at a little glazed bastard, took a deep breath, and told him, "go f*** yourself". That's willpower, baby. If I don't get called upstairs to human resources later, I'll consider it a small victory.

If you'd like to jump onboard the Undaground weight loss challenge, post your weight in the comments section and join us. Go ahead, I dare you (I'm talking to you, third-born).