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.