Wants vs. Needs

It is important to clarify that when I say that people are dumb for thinking that babies should be okay with being set down on their backs in a quiet room, I visit very little blame on the parents of said babies. New parents, as far as I’m concerned, are incapable of being guilty for crimes short of intentional neglect or straight up murder. Rather, the main bearer of my blame and anger about this, and in fact most things baby related is the baby industry and American baby culture itself.

Certainly, it is impossible to fully prepare any new parent for the journey that they are about to embark upon. However, when you compound that with every doctor trying to sell you their favorite home remedy, every baby book leaving out vital details or telling you to buy the products from every corporation trying to sell you their new, miracle crying cure that they’re just begging Oprah to shill and later turns out to be made of Chinese irradiated, lead embalmed, reconstituted brains from hoof-in-mouth cows, a new parent can end up very confused indeed. (Much like you probably are after wading through that sentence.)

Lets take a look at Babies R’ Us’ “baby needs checklist”.

stationary entertainer???

I’m going to tell you a secret here, we own about a quarter of that stuff. We own that little of their needs checklist and (as of this writing), our baby has yet to explode. Now, I am a father of only a six week old, and I suppose that in my inexperience it is completely possible that there will come a day that I touch an improperly warmed baby wipe (due to our lack of the proper warming device, you see.), and my baby will immediately crash, undoubtedly requiring a full format and restore. However, I put that in the “Highly Unlikely” category, right below “Genghis Kahn showing up to take the baby for just a night.”, and just above “actually having enough clean dishes to see the bottom of the sink for more than a night.”.

It is though, very easy to convince new parents that they absolutely must have the Stroller/baby carrier with pivoting chair, rear view mirrors, vibrating, heated seat, all terrain wheels, onboard point defense anti missile system, and oil slick dropper. The companies that produce these things are very lucky to have their chosen demographic. Parents to be are scared, nervous animals; eager for items to purchase that will alleviate their many fears. New parents are much the same but with the added, special sauce that we like to call “desperation”. You remember how it was in highschool? Where the object of your affections first ignored you, then had her boyfriend beat you up, installed barbed wire on the tree outside her window, and finally filed that restraining order that still keeps you out of that damn grocery store in Colorado Springs, all because you reeked of the perfume of desperation. Bitch.
Anyway, the point is that these companies are the exact opposite of that. Upon smelling your pregnancy, they will be all over you like flies on ca-ca. I’m fully convinced that most major pregnancy tests contain little RFID chips that notify companies of positive results on said tests, and within days, you’re awash in Similac samples, ads for sales at Babies R’ Us, and dollar off coupons for diapers at Target. (I’m fairly sure that this was developed by the same company that knows to send Victoria’s Secret catalogs to houses the very second the male children in them hit puberty.) My daughter got her first junk mail before she got her social security number. The only demographic that comes close to being such complete suckers are people about to get married. You know you didn’t need that baby seal skin wedding guest album, and you do feel kind of bad, but dammit it was the only one that went with the churches candelabra.

Now, honestly, it is nice enough to get free stuff every now and again, but I don’t want to feed our kid Simulac. Sorry, the baby on your packaging is creepy, and I don’t want your crap in my baby. Were I less ornery though, and more trusting of companies than I am, I could easily see myself pouring those samples down my daughter’s milk vacuum at the witching hour when I just need her to be quiet.

This stuff is everywhere, buffeting parents left and right until they’re so confused they’re finally forced to pick any port in the storm, trying the entire time to convince other parents to join them so that they feel validated in their choices (and doing the company’s advertising for them in the process.) . So when an “authority” such as Babies R Us, or “What to Expect When You’re Expecting”, rises above all the others on the shoulders of those parents, more and more people will cling to it, or at very least default to it. Therefore, I think said sources bear a responsibility for providing you with more actual information than advertisements, more facts, and less checklists for Crap You Do Not Need. A real checklist needs to look like this.

boob(s) is really sort of extravagant, actually.

See the difference? I knew you would.

Special Baby Update Section:

A yeast infection of the mouth. That, in a nutshell, is what Thrush is. Last week, our happy baby exploded (oh man I knew I should have bought that wipe warmer!) in fury and rage. Well, as much fury and rage as someone who can’t control their limbs can do so. No amount of “Cuddle Cure” is going to work when one of the chief steps involved (sucking) is the primary source of discontent. Thrush is apparently, “just one of those things that happens to some babies” such as gas, or constipation, or lycanthropy. However, as an astute person, I noticed that it miraculously appeared just after her father gave her her first bottle of formula.

Feeling like you’ve failed or somehow harmed your own child is one of the worst, most unhappy things I’ve ever felt, and I can get pretty emo…
But really, sometimes you just need to accept that you goof up, and you forget to wash a bottle’s nipple after dropping it in the toilet (kidding!!!), and move on.

Ultimately, babies, like their wolf and bear ancestors, are fairly logical creatures. They function on a simple tenant that they have some core needs, and if those core needs are not met, they cause other beings physical harm (wolves bite, bears claw, babies sonic blast.). To that end, I have developed some tools to provide babies with those core needs in as efficient a manner possible, some of which I will share with you for your own use and defense.

This is a flowchart that you can use to troubleshoot a crying baby. You’ll find that it is fairly logical, and takes you on a step by step journey that hopefully ends with a satisfied baby, wolf, bear, or possibly your laptop I don’t know


theory

However, I have to be honest with you, it really ends up working out like this;


reality

I wish you the best of luck, and have a happy Thanksgiving should you so choose to celebrate it.

The Stages of Babyhood

A few weeks ago, I wrote the essay that would appear as the first entry in this journal, at the time of that writing my daughter was about three weeks old. The essay was written from my perspective about the first two days of her second week.

This is important to note because as babies get older their behaviour changes. There are several identifiable stages to a baby’s development.

Most pregnancy and early childcare books would have you believe that these stages are as follows;

Stage 1) Baby.
A baby, to these books writer’s minds, is your adorable offspring.
This is the product of your last nine months of exhaustion, and you have earned this joy. Babies are capable of making noises after a few weeks, and even smiling, isn’t that grand? Other things babies are capable of are recognizing their parent’s voices, focusing on black and white imagery, and melting the heart of the mother.

Stage 2) Walking.
The second stage, walking is characterized by a baby being able to walk. A walking baby is capable of making noises, eating solid foods, and, of course, walking. This is usually where these books wish you a fond farewell and good luck on your joyful journey into parenthood motherhood.

The realities, as you might be expecting, are somewhat more intricate than that.

I) Newborn
A newborn is characterized chiefly by being able to breathe. Note that I say “able” to breathe. They are not particularly good at it. Newborn babies snuffle, snort, squeak and sneeze. Newborns are also able to eat. You will also note that I do not use the word “capable” here at all. While it is possible for them to do so, “capable” is not a word that describes, in any adequacy, a newborn baby’s capacity for eating.
In short, breastfeeding is not as instinctual as you might want it to be.
A newborn baby is characterized by the two above activities, punctuated by a deposit or two of the most vile spackle on the face of the planet Earth, known as meconium.

II) Less-New-Born
A less-new-born is about two weeks old, Characterized by the above, coupled with a change in the colour of the poop. Instead of being meconium, the stuff yellows to a mustardy goop, which has the special property of being almost magnetically attracted to baby feet. Specifically socks. Never before in my life had I imagined we would go through so many damned baby socks. A baby at this stage is also capable of screaming until she turns a color reminiscent of the Kool-Aid man.
More than once I expected the Crimson Crusader to burst through my wall and demand that I return his infant, punctuated by a hearty “OH YEAH!”.

oh no!

I imagine that this is less an effect of the crying, and more some sort of latent ability of humankind, not unlike that of the noble Jackson’s Chameleon. A baby at this stage is capable of changing colours, starting with a bright blue and rapidly shifting through spectrum blending in with things such as brick walls, fire engines, and that elevator in The Shining.


III) Less-Less-New-Born.
This is the stage my daughter is at now. My daughter is now comfortable enough to say “goo” (which I assure you is not simply a sterotype, I honestly thought that my wife was the one making the noise, articulate as it was.), giggle, smile, and spray her urine at her parents as though she was prepping her changing table for use as a slip n’ slide.


I mention most of this, because it is important to know that human babies are extraordinarily Stupid. As mentioned before, the basic animal instincts of “eat, fornicate, and get the hell out of the way” are there, but babies just can’t do anything about it. You see, Mother Nature, in all her glory, finally gifted human women with the amazing ability to die less when they gave birth. “How,” you might ask, “did Mother Nature accomplish this glorious task?”. To which I would answer, “You know how men get laughed at for pre-mature ejaculation? That’s just a trial run, baby, have another vodka tonic.”.

Babies, when they are born, are dumped out of the comfort of the womb about 3 months too damn early. Effectively, the bun from your oven is still doughy on the inside. In doing this, your baby’s head is significantly smaller than it will be three months later, and instead of being split open like the Reach Toothbrush Fliptop Head Guy, a mother gets the lovely parting gift of simply being torn open like a packet of airline peanuts. Ain’t Nature lovely?

There are several interesting things to know about this. The first is that most of the world is blissfully unaware of this fact. They do not know to tell you that your baby is fundamentally useless to you or to even herself during this period. As a matter of fact, the biggest detriment to your baby at this time is herself. She’s used to being packed in a waterbed, a thumb always at the ready for sucking, and a heavy metal soundtrack playing right in her ear every single second of every single day. Instinctually, she knows that that is the way things are supposed to be. So when we American idiot parents lay a baby to rest in a quiet room on her back, she wakes up to think that she’s fallen out of the womb, and cant even look behind her properly to see the bed she’s laying on to correct that notion. Add this, to her noting that she’s all alone with no thumb in her face, her theme music is gone, and she’s all of a sudden feeling like something has gone horribly wrong.

You probably noticed that I mention Americans above. I do this for a reason, but really when I say that, I mean industrialized “modern”, westernized cultures. We have, for some inane reason, decided that we don’t really like the idea of continuing the species that much, because it’s just too inconvenient. The companies we work for don’t have the time to deal with their employee’s snot nosed brats or the time that those employees selfishly steal from them in order to attend the heat seeking knee gremlin’s every whim.
So, in order to maintain the standard of living to which you have become accustomed, namely, having the ability to eat Food, our children need to come second next to Work. For this purpose, these cultures have evolved a very special retardation of the brain that makes us think that a near-fetus should be able to sleep through the night in an environment completely unfamiliar to them. It’s like the whole of these cultures somehow turned into X-Men with the special mutant power of “Act Like Babies Are Supposed To Want To Get Left To The Dingoes.”.

This needless to say, is incorrect. So called “primitive” cultures do a damn fine job raising their young, and in fact, many have never developed a word analogous to “colic”. This is in large part due to the fact that mothers tightly bind their children (similar to the tightness of the womb) , wear them and go about their daily lives (swaying them like they would be in the womb), and allow them to listen to the cacophony of daily life (you see where this is going.).

Keeping all of those things in mind has made parenting a cinch since we figured them out. I can’t take all the credit, however. This knowledge was mostly gained from a book named “The Happiest Baby On the Block”, which I would highly recommend to any new-ish parent. The doctor who writes it is a horrible writer, and obviously tries to beef up the core thesis of his ideas with a bunch of words like “The Cuddle Cure”, but I promise that the actual information within is solid.

We learned about the existence of said book during prenatal classes while my wife was pregnant, and decided that we didn’t really need any of that hippy crap. Eleven o’ clock on the second day of that second week however, found us at the local Barnes and Noble, baby and bags under our eyes in tow. Please, if you’re a new or soon to be parent, do yourself a favor and buy this book. You may never need it, but I promise you that at 2 am, after your eardrums are bleeding and you’re pondering just how easy adoption is, it’s a truly friendly face.

See you next time!