Measures of Success

As a kid, success was evaluated by the toys you kept. Having no sense of currency, you could look at your closest friend’s playroom to determine how good their life was. Growing up, success has different definitions. Some would cite your relationship with God; others would look at the size of your bank account. Then there is the worldly view of loving and being loved as a barometer for success. The Golia’s are a fan of most any view as long as it recognizes love for furry creatures as well.

Being a parent of a newborn has added a new dimension to success. Also a universal measure, one that parents show off like a rapper would represent his new icy chain. No, it isn’t strollers…though I have seen some that are quite impressive. It is nighttime sleep. And parents wear these badges of honor in their smiles, their laughs and the colors beneath their eyes. You have the 8-10 hour gang, who are envied by all (upper class). The 6-8 hour class (middle) who still receive the occasionally “high five”, but never feel completely satisfied. And finally, the <6 hour crew. Definitely one of the easiest to recognize as evidenced by their half shut eyes, irritable personalities and overall delusional state.

There is a silver lining to the baby sleeping class system (unlike the US academic class model) - you can graduate into a better class. And LB is on the verge of going big time. Good living, here we come!

Fine Dining

This story begins with 2 overconfident parents that had previously taken their baby to a restaurant and had nothing but sleepy time. So why not roll the dice again and try some delicious fine cuisine. It was Friday night and Chilean Sea Bass was calling.

From the moment we sat down, we should have known this wasn’t going to work. First it was the silence of the restaurant; evidently the crowd doesn’t show up at 6:45pm. I asked the DJ (server) if he could play white noise button #4, waterfall but he didn’t catch my humor. Cue baby whimpers. Thought I could order the steak and shrimp, but looks like I am going to have to go with the 5 minute fish, no appetizers. Every server and manager had to stop by to check out their 7 week old guest and to assure us that “a little crying won’t disturb the guests”. I couldn’t help but notice the emphasis on “a little”. Cue baby crying. And the race begins. 1 filet of fish, 3 bites, dinner over. I asked the server for an award for the fastest diner; he wasn’t amused. He asked if we wanted to order the lava cakes that take 10 minutes to cook; I wasn’t amused.

We bolt out of the restaurant, head to the local drive-in burger joint and order two sundaes…I look inside, see the French Fries and plastic forks and a parking lot full of mini-vans. I turn to my beautiful bride- “honey- say hello to date night for the next 10 years”. Baby 2- Parents 0.

Gambled….And Lost

Every parent has this story. The time - 4am, eyes -half shut. The sound machine has transformed the bedroom into the Amazon, with waterfalls echoing in the distance. You wake up the baby because the doctor says you should play by the rules w/ 1 course meals every 3 hours. But prior to 4oz milkshake, you must change the diaper. Normally you have time to work the legs and rock the gas right out of the baby…But at 4am in the rain forest, it is like running a race in the fog.

One of my favorite shortcuts is the “remove the diaper, then wipe, then replace” technique. Instead of the “open the diaper, clean, replace while shielding, clean some more”. The difference is the diaper shield. You can guess what happens next- the changing area turns into a war zone, covered in a poop camouflage. You only have yourself to blame. Baby 1, Dad 0.