Nite Aid

The last few nights and days have run together. My wife and I sleep in four hour intervals and wake up to feed our daughter and change her diaper. It feels as if all we ever do is feed, change and console her.

Last night was no exception. Although we were able to sleep uninterrupted from 9:30 PM until 2:00 AM, we woke to the sound of our crying newborn. After changing and feeding her, she was still quite fussy and so we decided to take a short car ride to Rite Aid to get some gas drops at 4:00 AM.

After fighting with a grasshopper that somehow snuck behind Chloe’s butt in her car seat, we were off. It was a quick ride (since there was no one on the road) and so Laura stayed in the car with Chloe as I stumbled into Rite Aid.

The cashier, Elizabeth, asked me if I needed help, and I mumbled something about the gas drops. She took me to the diarrhea and gas aisle and showed me some product while describing all of its ingredients. “Yeah, that’s fine,” I said, but she insisted that we take a look at the children’s section. There, we found products that were “organic” or containing “gerelsdhl” or whatever she said.

“You know what gerelsdhl is, don’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Your grandma probably used that. But I’m not a doctor. You may want to call the hospital she was born in. They always have a pediatrician on call. On second thought, this also has ginger in it. Let’s go ask Tara what she thinks.”

I followed Elizabeth to the back where Tara was either unpacking boxes, doing yoga, or trying on outfits (vision was quite fuzzy) and she said something I don’t remember at all.

So I followed Elizabeth back to the front of the store and purchased the gas drops. She told me to let her know how things go.

This post isn’t a knock at Rite Aid. In fact, I thought the service was awesome. But when it’s four in the morning and I look like crap, just give me what I need and let me go.

Laura and I are changing our routine today. Rather than waking Chloe up every three hours to eat, we’re letting her sleep until she’s ready. And she’ll let us know when she’s ready. We’ve already had a few hours to ourselves and were able to do a few things we need to around the house (including writing this post).

The First Night

Does anyone know of a good hotel I can check into for a few nights?

As some of you may know, my wife and I welcomed our first child into the world on the morning of Saturday, August 27. I want to try and explain the amazing experience of childbirth but, well, I’m too tired to try (I’ll explain in a moment).

At the hospital, my wife and I had a pretty good routine. Hold the baby, put her down, watch her sleep, pick her up again, feed her and so forth. In reality, we didn’t have a lot to do in the hospital room so we focused our attention on the baby and the guards… I mean nurses. But now that we’re home, we have a ton to do AND we have to take care of the baby. In fact, relatives are due over sometime today and I have quite a few “decorated” pairs of underwear piling up in the dining room. That’s right, the dining room.

My wife is upset because she takes pride in keeping our house clean. I’m not sure how it happened, but it looks like hurricane Irene hit our living room, dining room and pretty much the entire first floor.

I’m fine with the mess; it’s the constant screaming that irks me. We went to bed around midnight and that’s when Chloe decided it was time to open her beautiful eyes and look around. Of course, the lights were out and she couldn’t see a damn thing, but she let us know… and let us know… and let us know. My wife is considering coffee. I’m considering hard liquor.

To make an unnecessarily long story short, it feels like I have rocks in my eyes. In fact, the muscles around my eyes are getting quite buff as they work harder to keep my eyelids open during 3:30 AM swaddling attempts.

But then, for that brief moment, she looks up at me with her brand new eyes and makes it all worthwhile. I know you hear this type of thing all the time in movies and novels, but there’s really no other way to say it. Holding my little baby that grew from virtually nothing, I get complex feelings of wonder, love and the burden of responsibility. She depends on me for everything. I am her world.

My stomach is eating my spleen right now, so I’m going to eat something.

Thanks for the Advice I Didn't Need

People have been giving me (the expectant parent) all kinds of advice I didn’t ask for during the last nine months or so.

Below are some of the most popular pieces of advice I’ve received since we were expecting.

Your life is never going to be the same.
Well, of course it’s not. We’re growing a human.
Sometimes people say this one with a “you’re screwed now” tone while others give a more sincere “this is an unbelievable blessing” vibe. Either way, for better or for worse, things are going to change. Duh.

When is the due date?
I’ve told you a half dozen times, and I really don’t want to have to say it again. (This one isn’t advice, but I’m just tired of the question.)

Get your sleep now. / Sleep as much as you can.
Should I sleep for a solid month? Two months? What about my job? Should I quit? Really, I’m not too worried about this one. If I can attend college classes, work part-time and hold an internship simultaneously, I should be able to add a baby to my current “work and sleep” schedule.

You’re going to be a daddy.
Yes, I know. I don’t have the uterus.

Come to think of it, none of this is really advice... just things people feel the need to say… every day.

A Prize In My Cereal

If you follow my every move on Facebook, you probably know that I ate a bowl full of live ants this morning with my generic version of Golden Grahams.

I followed my usual routine: Stumble out of bed, accidentally step on a cat, make my way to the kitchen with my eyes barely open, grab a bowl, spoon, cereal and milk and eat up. It was no different from any other morning.

The cold milk, combined with the constant chewing, helps me regain consciousness. So, of course, it wasn’t until I was just about finished when I saw them. A few had already drowned while the survivors kicked their six legs in a struggle for life. But it was a struggle that ended with a garbage disposal.

Needless to say, it was a really gross morning. Laura compared it to the scene from Honey, I Shrunk the Kids when Rick Moranis is about to eat his miniature son from a bowl of Cheerios. Well, at least that didn’t happen. At least I didn’t eat any mini children.

Would You Like Flies With That?

I have a lot of good ideas that don’t always make it onto my blogs, but I make sure to share most of my clever thoughts with my wife. Sometimes I wish her brain was the Internet, posting my ideas instantly to the web. However there would be a few downsides to this ability… like sharing images of me in my Simpson boxers and white socks. It’s really an unprofessional image.

Another humiliating scene occurs almost every time I enter a particular restroom. For some reason, this restroom is a regular hangout for sewer flies. If you’re unfamiliar with them, they’re little black flies with wide wings… and when you pour water on them, black stuff washes off. It’s probably poop.

These little jerks like to hang around the urinal, and so when I try to use it, they get into an uproar and swarm around, which makes me nervous since they’re basically little poop creatures. Taking aim just angers them more, but trying to avoid them from landing on, um, me looks ridiculous… and can sometimes be messy.

“But Jon,” you may ask, “Why don’t you just use another restroom?” Well it’s because all the other restrooms are too far away. And I don’t like flies telling me what to do because if I used another bathroom, that’s exactly what happens. The flies basically win.

I did not share this experience with my wife, but once she finds out I posted this story, she’ll probably go back to using her maiden name.

Blogging is Really Hard Work!

Wow. I had no idea how much work and effort it takes to be a good blogger. Good bloggers put in hours and hours of work – not only in their writing but in their design as well. I know some people blog full time, but how do they afford life? (I guess this is a trade secret I may never know.)

I have great respect for those who blog like it’s their job. They have a reoccurring theme, regular readers and post daily… or in some cases hourly!

My best attempt at a blog is Gray Collars, but I think it’s time to give this Jonfiction blog a theme. It’s time to explore new territories. Here are a few blog ideas I’m considering…

Teddy Bear Tester
I test various teddy bears in the state of Pennsylvania and rate them on their cuddliness, lovability and, of course, hugableness (yeah, that’s a word now).

Celebrity Basher
With this idea, I would bash celebrities that everyone else bashes. What’s one more voice, right? I tried a test run here. (Note: Test run was highly unsuccessful. I lost the one ounce of credibility I had.)

Couch Critic
I visit furniture stores, test out couches (oftentimes lounging for hours) and rate them on my blog. I’ll have pretty photos too. High res. People like that.

On second thought, I really don’t see any of these ideas going anywhere but in SPAM folders. But even if I had a winning blog, I would still have to read, comment and promote other blogs too! Holy crap!

How do you bloggers do it all?

I Tweet Now

No posts, no readers. I’m well aware.

On the bright side, I’ve been trying new things. I’m in the process of possibly becoming a freelance social media manager/consultant, I’m in the final stage of becoming a notary and I’ve joined the Twitterverse. Now you can track my every move!

Although I’m now on Twitter, I’m not going to provide food consumption updates, bowel movement news or thoughts on video games. Sorry to disappoint, but I’m going to use my Twatter account to make a difference and not sell out when Zach Galifianakis offers me the role of Business Man 2 in The Hangover 3.

Follow me, friends!