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Uncle Doggie and Ryan flashing for the camera.
 

RYAN'S BLOG AND PHOTO ALBUM

"...life before becoming a parent is an empty room"


RYAN IN HER NEW BED

Hot Tea
April 10th 2007

Ryan is just about to crest her 19^th month of existence on this planet and if the next 900 months are anything like the last 19 she’ll do just fine.  She has been learning by leaps and bounds lately, talking a lot more in 2 and 3 word sentences, understands 70% of what you are trying to tell her and we understand about the same of what she is trying to tell us, thankfully the communication confusion is lessening with each passing day. 

On the downside of things somewhere along the line she has developed this mischievous little streak that my mother swears came from my very own gene pool.  Anyway, call it pay back or whatever you want it keeps us busy.  It’s not that being a little mischievous is a bad thing; the way I look at it, it takes thought and planning to pull off something that people are trying to keep you from doing.

In any event, she tends to touch things she shouldn’t to get a reaction and see just how far her parents are going to let her go before she gets ‘in trouble’.  Most of the stuff we forbid her from touching is quite harmless, but none the less off limits, however the important stuff, the ‘danger’ stuff we are firm on and hot tea falls into this category and she knows it.

Last night Melissa and I were sitting in the living room each having a cup and Ryan was quietly playing on the floor with LuLu and Mary, her two dolls.  As her parents managed to fall deeper into a conversation about house reno ’s Ryan got up off the floor and made her way over to the end table.  Now there are 13 things on the end table but only one of them is ‘danger’ so actually in her eyes there was only one thing on the end table.

When we see Ryan doing something ‘non-danger’ but not allowed we respond with a firm NO just like we do when we see her about to do something ‘danger’, the last type of ‘danger’ is the ‘holy crap that child is going to get herself killed’ type and the reaction to seeing this danger as a parent is pure panic, usually accompanied by a couple of short screams and a few bursts of action, which most times only makes matters worse, as was the case with our hot tea episode.

As it were, I looked up from my conversation with Melissa just in time to see Ryan going mid stride across the room with my piping hot cup of tea and I was immediately afraid for her.  “RYAN” I screamed “NO”, it was loud enough that I scared both Ryan and myself, as a result she lost her balancing concentration and managed to spill most of the hot tea on herself and the floor, “DANGER” I yelled at her again as I reached for the cup in a panic.

The combination of me yelling, the hot tea hitting her little hand, the mess she had made on the floor and the panic she was seeing on the faces of her parents was too much.  She began to cry thinking that she had done something very wrong.  Still worried that she may be hurt, instinctively I said “danger” again.  She looked up at me, down at her little red hand and over at the puddle of tea then back at me with her eyes full.  She took off like a shot across the room, I figured in an attempt to get away from the situation, as I would soon see her escape was for anything but getting away.

I watched as Ryan hurriedly disappeared around the fireplace and then listened as she crashed into the bathroom door with full force.  “What was that?” Melissa asked “Ryan crashing into the bathroom door and then the bathroom door crashing into the wall” I replied “I think I really scared her”.  Now I was starting to feel guilty for my ‘over-reaction’ if I had not yelled she probably would not have spilled any tea, but the fact that I did had really startled her. 

I began to get up to make sure she was okay, especially after hitting the door so hard but just as I got to my feet I could here her rumbling back into the living room, she rounded the fire place and was heading straight for me and the mess on the floor, still crying and still frightened….as I looked at her I was stunned….in her right hand she was carrying a full roll of toilet paper.  I fell back into my chair at the sight of this little person, who after all this commotion was only concerned about the hot tea on the floor and trying to make sure that Daddy was not mad at her.  She pulled off a few very tiny pieces in between sobs and gave them to me, enough to soak up a small amount of the tea, “could I have a little more please” I asked, all the while I could feel the warming sensation you sometimes get as your soul experiences true admiration, love and wonderment for another person.  She obliged by ripping off a piece just a bit smaller than the first, “can daddy have the whole roll?” I asked, she leaned forward and gave me the roll, I leaned in too, gave her a big hug and a kiss on her cheek, I held her for a while.  I wanted to make sure that she knew everything was alright and that I wasn’t mad at her.  I sat there with her in my arms, amazed by her, thankful she was okay, and grateful that such a wonderful little gift had come into our lives.  She hugged me back, relieved too that I was not ‘mad’ any more, happy that we still loved her and glad to be in her daddy’s arms.

As I held her I realized that sometimes hugs are the best form of communication between little people and big people and decided that there is no better feeling in life than the arms of my daughter around my neck.

The Hostage Taking
April 8-07

So, I’m sitting in my chair watching the last few holes of the Masters and Ryan has managed to find the clicker that I had strategically hidden between the cushions of the couch.  I need to do this because at 19 months she has learned what the buttons do and takes extreme satisfaction in hitting the off button and then looking toward daddy for his reaction.  Now most people would just say teach her no, and I try, but it is almost impossible to be firm with her when she hits that off button and then looks over with this wildly devious ‘take that’ leer of defiance.

Long story short Woods is about to hit a putt on 16 for birdie to get within one of the lead and BAM off goes the tv.  I look over at the fart monster and there she is, clicker in hand, leering back at me.  She’s to far away to reach and way to unconcerned to yell at but I do have her baby lulu in the chair next to me and she lovvvveess her baby lulu.  I get the bright idea to hold baby lulu hostage over the railing to the spiral staircase, and threaten the fart monster with lulu’s sure death if she does not trade me the clicker for lulu’s life. 

The look on her face is priceless as she realizes the gravity of the situation.  I state my demand “Ryan if you give me the clicker I will give you lulu”, she looks at me intently, she understands completely what needs to be done and makes her way toward me with the clicker in her outstretched arm in a gesture of concession.  I figure hey this is working, I may have finally solved the clicker problem. She methodically reaches out for the trade, puts her hand firmly on lulu’s leg and then leans in to ‘give’ me  the clicker, as soon as she is certain she has a firm grasp on the hostage she hauls off and hurls my clicker over the railing and down to its inevitable death below on the hard tile of the basement floor, all the while tugging doggedly on the hostage to free her from my grip, I was shocked, I had just been duped by a 19 month old.  

Next thing I know  LuLu is safe and sound in the cuddling arms of the retreating offender, my clicker is in a million pieces one floor below and I've got to get up from the chair to turn the TV back on like I was living in the 70's again.  In the mean time the Fart Monster has made it over to the relative safety of her mothers side, but her leer of defiance is still the same, perhaps a bit more smug than normal but it's still screaming 'take that'.

Needles and other things that go BOO
April 4, 2007

Ryan was in yesterday and had her 18 month needles.  Generally anything that makes Ryan cry becomes the duty of PaPa to look after, so I have been the primary needle guy since day one. 

She was a little more leery as we pulled up to the needle building this time, I think she may have been experiencing a few flash backs to the last two times she was there for the pinch in the leg.  She is getting to the age where she remembers people, places and things.  Her recollections became even more apparent as we walked into the office, she new exactly what was coming down the pipe.

I hate to use the word tough when I describe Ryan, that’s a bit of a harsh way to describe a little girl, but in the end that’s what she is.  Whether it be wiping out in the driveway, falling on the hardwood or bumping her head on the coffee table she rarely says boo.  

So getting a few needles for the third time I didn't expect would prove to be much of a big deal.  The two nurses looking after us took a few minutes to show us the anti squirm hold, with Ryan on my lap, her left wrist in my right hand and her right wrist in my left hand in a cozy little bear hug, getting away from the impending needles was going to be virtually impossible.  It was only a matter of a few seconds  before it was all over, bang in the right leg, bang in the left leg and lastly bang in the left arm.  With each needle her squirming and cries became a little more noticeable.  I wouldn't call them pain cries necessarily but more "why are you holding me here so that this old meanie can keep on jabbing with those sharp things?" frustration cries.  It's a hard thing to do to someone you love as much as I love her.

Once it was over we got her dressed and the two nurses and I went over some information about the needles and how Ryan would be feeling for the next few days.  In the mean time she had made her way over to the door and was trying to escape from the room, she had had enough.  She couldn’t quite get the door knob turned far enough to open the door herself but she had made enough noise that we all looked her way, she looked back at us with tears still watering her eyes and gave this slight little pout that screamed,  “please let me out of here before that happens again”.  I grabbed my stuff and leaned over and opened the door, immediately Ryan started to leave, she took a couple of steps, stopped looked back over her shoulder at the nurses and said “thank you”.  I just about fell over, she took two more steps down the hallway and in her deep raspy voice bellowed “byyyyyyeeeeee” like only she can.  I love my daughter, toughness and all.

RYAN IN GRAMPIE'S SHOES

Ryan update April 3, 2007

 Ryan is 18 months old now, working on 19 and well on her way to 21 years.  Time flies' by, and I don’t mean like 747 flies by I mean like space shuttle flies by.  I attribute the fleeting days to the speed at which children learn, she went from Ga Ga Goo Goo to Daddyyyy…..Miilllkk Pleeeasse to walking to the fridge and getting it herself.  From being dressed put in a stroller and walked around the neighborhood to getting herself dressed, grabbing her wagon and walking herself around the neighborhood, it is unbelievable.

I call this particular stage that Ryan finds herself in these days the XEROX stage because believe me when I say, if you do it they do it, if you say it they say it, it’s no wonder that when kids get to grade school teachers spend the next 4 years breaking the copying habit.  We feed Ryan she feeds her babies, we give Ryan hugs and kisses she gives her babies hugs and kisses, on Saturday we gave Ryan a nice bath, on Saturday afternoon Ryan introduced baby Lou Lou and baby Mary to the toilet and they had a bath.  Last week I was in the middle of changing one of the fart monsters stinky diapers and managed to scrape some poo onto my hand, “aaawwe SHIT” I said, not thinking twice I continued on and about a second later I here this little voice echoing “aaawwwe SHIIITTT”……..”Crap, don’t say that” I said then came the echo back “craaapp”.  I gave up.

Being a dad is the best thing in the world, and I've been lucky enough to experience a lot of great things, but nothing compares to this.  Who ever would have thought it?

March 3rd 2007

Pee and Poop are the words of the day, yes Ryan has discovered the Potty.  

Melissa and I were away for a week to visit Blair in the Turks and we left Ryan with Melissa's mom and dad (Grammy and Grampy), I swear they taught her more in one week than we had in the previous six months.  

Neither one of us knew quite what to expect when we were getting off the plane in Halifax, we were both looking forward  to seeing our daughter for the first time in 7 days, but boy her reaction was worth the wait.  It was obvious that she missed us almost as much as we missed her.  Grammy and Grampy did a wonderful job looking after the fart monster, her vocabulary had doubled, she had some new expressions and a new found fascination with the toilet.

Her big thing now is to say Pooh or Pee and then bust for the bathroom, you then have to sit her on the seat, she lets out a few little person grunts, hops off, grabs a piece of toilet paper, wipes her clothed bottom and flushes.  After putting the seat down she will either repeat steps 1 through 5 or move on to the next big task.  

She loves the outdoors, her bottle, naps in her crib, the tub and playing with her friends at daycare.  She has been a wonderful child and we are very lucky.  As of late though she has developed her own little personality and has begun to realize that she does have 'choices' and at times will exercise her right to debate decisions made for her by us.  Depending on our bending or lack of bending it may lead to a bit of mini tantrum, but like I tell her, get used to it, sometimes life is not fair and you rarely get what you want.

Winter is giving way to spring and I am really looking forward to the golf season, as much for Ryan as for me, I can't wait to see how she takes everything in.  She has already showed an interest in squash, she loves the courts and playing with the racket and the ball we take her with us when we go to play on Wednesdays and Saturdays.   

All for know, see you in a month.

February 4th 2007

Well, Ryan is preoccupied right now for the time being, Mama is at kick boxing in search of that body she had when we met, and I'm sitting here on the couch watching my little girl unroll toilet paper off the rack and put it in the toilet.  I know it's going to make a mess, and I'll probably have to dig the 400 sheets of toilet paper out of the dunny but I really don't care, she's having fun doing what she thinks is the right thing to do, after all mom and dad do it. 

She's almost 17 months old now and a short while ago she wouldn't have known the difference between a sheet of toilet paper and a noodle of Kraft Dinner.  Now she knows how to say both and where each one goes, one in her mouth and the other in the loo, to me the learning curve of a child is one of the most remarkable things that we get to experience first hand, and I'm enjoying every minute of it.

Aside from growing at leaps and bounds, adding to her vocabulary on a daily basis and generally serving up huge amounts of laughter and joy into our lives not much else has changed.  We just look at eachother every once in a while and Melissa will say with a huge smile "where did she come from?"

Update January 21 2007

Winter and the snow that comes with it have arrived in the last few weeks so we have been plugging around outside as of late, sliding, skating next door at the Dow's and plowing snow in the Toyota, oddly enough Melissa's least favorite truck on the planet is Ryan's most favorite.  We have a ball.  On plow mornings the two of us get up early, get dressed and hit the road, a quick stop at Tim's for a large coffee with milk and a ten pack of TIMBITS and then it's off to move some snow.  

I'm not sure if its the rumble of the noisy exhaust, the creaks and cracks of a 20 year old import or the sudden starts and stops of hitting big snow banks but Ryan has a ball.  Usually after about an hour of plowing I'll look over and this little person will be sitting there looking back at me, with her eyes completely closed, her mouth completely open and the chainsaw running at full throttle.  Don't ask me how she sleeps with all the banging, crashing and noise going on around her, but she does

The stress of parenthood is a very tangible thing, and only a very small percentage of it can be attributed to the child.  It's really a huge undertaking.  Melissa and I were always very accommodating toward each other pre-Ryan, but post Ryan it is even more important.  The sooner you realize that you have to give up a lot to get a lot the better off you are.   Your life changes, a ton, and it's not easy.  Ryan is always happiest when the three of us are together.  I think in her own little way she knows how important we all are to each other and she wants to make sure that we are all happy.  Children are remarkable, just when you think you have seen it all they do something else to make you shake your head and say holy crap.

I know kids grow, but everything I have tried to put on Ryan in the last week will not fit, I mean these things fit last week so why aren't they fitting this week, surely she didn't grow that much in seven days.  I see little girls who are 8, 9 and 10 and I can tell that their lives have become their own and that although they love daddy a lot it's not quite the same as it was when they were little.  Taking that into consideration I get my hugs, kisses and daytime naps every chance I get.  There is nothing better than the feeling you get inside when your laying in bed and this little chainsaw is laying on top of you sleeping and sawing logs.  You know that she feels as safe and comfortable as she is ever going to feel in her life, and you do too.

The difference  between me and Ryan

In Melissa's eyes the difference between the love you have for a child and the love you have for your spouse is best explained by this.  When Ryan passes gas while lying in bed it is called a toot and warrants a pat on the bum because obviously she has tummy pains.  When daddy passes gas while lying in bed it warrants a 10 minute lecture on how gross daddy is, followed by banishment to the basement.  When Ryan finally falls asleep in mommy's arms and begins to snore it warrants a soft lullaby and a slightly more snug hug.  When Daddy falls asleep and begins to snore it warrants a heel to the ribs, a stern "roll over!" and a loud sigh that says "Holy crap why did I ever marry you?"

Update December 27 2006

People talk about their kids a lot, before having Ryan I often wondered why, what was the big deal, and actually worse than that "here we go again".  I apologize to all of you people in my life who do not have kids that now have to listen to me talk and brag about her, I know its boring for you, it was for me, but wow is it ever fun having this little person in your life.

There's sitting, there's crawling, then there's walking, these three developments in movement went off without a hitch and each was just slightly more amazing than the last, but this latest development is driving me crazy.  I could stand seeing Ryan sitting in one place and falling over to her side, or crawling along the floor and having the supporting arms come out from under her, or even walking along and having her right leg go were her left should have causing her to land squarely on her bottom, but holy crap, this climbing thing is driving me nuts.  There is no worse feeling than looking up from what you are doing to see this little person pirouetting on one foot on top of a wobbly foot stool 2 feet from the edge of  jagged fire place, all with  this incredulous smile of "wow am I really doing this, and what is this really tingly feeling inside my body" as the adrenaline pumps through her little veins for the first time.

Daycare has been fun for Ryan, she loves her daycare, especially all the new friends and Tammy her teacher.  It has allowed Melissa and I to return to a slightly more familiar routine of life.  She goes to Tammy's Mon-Thurs and Mom takes her on Fridays, Dad gets her on Sat and Sun Morning while mommy sleeps in and does all of the work around the house that needs to be done.  We're to the point now where I can comfortably say I think we are going to make it!

We just got home from our annual Christmas foray to Halifax to see Melissa's mom, dad, brother and all of their families.  Ryan get's spoiled with attention and presents, daddy gets spoiled with food and rest and mommy gets to remember what it was like to live at home with a mom who she shares way to many traits with to mention.  Her dad and I enjoy just sitting there and taking it all in as the two of them discuss 'ideas' and 'opinions'. 

Well I'll call it all for now as mom's up, Ryan is in need of  a play partner and I think daddy is off to Tim Horton's for some coffee and some timbits.  Hope everyone had a good Christmas, see you all soon.

October 20 2006

Ok....so its been awhile?  Lets just say that free time is at a premium, computers and networks do not always work as they should and once Ryan hit about 9 months I've had better things to do.  Walking, talking and wondering sure add a lot of entertainment to being a parent, after 8.5 months of mostly the same old  same old the last five months seem like a time warp.  

First steps were very cool, but they soon turned into outright mobility, which some parents had warned us could be a problem, for me its more of wonderment watching this little person buzz around and explore, each day brings something new to see, touch, take apart and leave for mommy or daddy to pick up.  Talking is also very neat, mama, dada, baby, kitty and my own personal favorite golf ball (sounds like gaw gaul) but we know what she is saying.

Speaking of Mommy, she continues to amaze, doing wonderfully in her job, and especially well as a mother to Ryan, I've taken my place in the back seat for the time being, it's hard to feel the least bit slighted knowing who his now sitting in my place in the front, we just love her.

May 7 2006

Words or burbs, it sounds like da-da to me.

Well the last few weeks have become a symphony of sound.  Ryan has begun to explore the full range of her vocal capabilities.  Da-da has become a favorite, much to the chagrin of Ma-ma.  I tell MAMA not to be sad that she said Da-da first, she probably doesn’t know what she is saying anyway, but secretly both Ryan and I know that we have been working very hard on these two little words.  Daddy has been using his assigned nightly put baby to sleep time for other purposes, Da-da training. 

Watching little people grow and learn is spectacular.  They pick up on stuff with amazing speed, if they see you do it they want to try to do it too, to date Ryan can drink out of a Tim Horton's cup (empty), suck through a straw, use all three clickers to change channels AND turn the TV off and on, untie her own shoes, undo her diaper, make a Caesar, hold a spoon, take on and off her hat (mostly off) and eat a granola bars (wrapper on).

As well we have become a huge hit at the Y, well only actually with each other but we're having fun at little dippers on Sunday afternoons, the only yummy mummy is the one I bring with me, but I have yet to get her into a bathing suit, even though she is back hot, so that leaves me in the pool with 5 other women who still look pregnant, an instructor, and 6 kids under the age of 2 wondering what the heck is up with the cold water?  It's a wonderful life.

Certainly a few things have gone out the window since the 17^th of September, I miss:

• Free time
• Cat naps (which now are only for the cats)
• Sleeping in
• Eating a sit-down meal where I can actually sit

All in all it’s a small price to pay for:

• Hugs so tight they make Ryan’s knuckles turn white and my neck turn red
• Smiles at all times of the day, especially when you really need them
• Kisses all over and the high pitched giggles that go with them
• Pride, that fills your insides every time you look at her beautiful little face
• And time, the time that we spend together, sometimes doing nothing, just sitting, smiling, laughing and wondering “can it get any better than this?”

March 2 2006

THE NUCLEAR POOH

It was inevitable, bound to happen, the basis of many stories of lore and legend in the baby world, but to actually experience it first hand, the ‘nuclear pooh’ was in a word, astonishing.  In its simplest terms it is 4 cups of pooh in a 2 cup diaper.

The ingredients

• One freshly dressed, clean, but slightly constipated baby with two full days of  build up.
• 9 baby wipes
• 2 diapers
• 1 ones-y
• 1 pair of clean pants
• Two warm face cloths
• 1 clean sweater
• 2 finger loads of zynco-fax
• 2 diapers
• 1 change table cover
• 1 dirty sleeper
• 1 grown up shirt
• A strong stomach

The ‘nuclear pooh’ comes without warning, it mask’s itself, like all other normal poohs with no discernable indication of the destruction that lurks beneath, no overwhelming smell and no visible indicators of trouble.  However when the time comes for the unveiling there is no mistake that this POOH is NUCLEAR.

My first indication of danger occurred subtly as I curled my fingers under the waste-band of the Fart Monsters trousers and slowly began to pull ankle ward, at about thigh level I experienced a curious sensation, warm, damp (not wet), but still relatively un-alarming it wasn’t until the nail of my left pinky hit knee level that I realized the impending danger and likely end of my diaper changing innocence.  I could feel the first morsel’s of the ‘Nuclear Pooh’ begin to build up on said digit. 

At this point my mind was still catching up to what my pinky was feeling, but soon with the help of the rancid blast of 4 cups of pooh hitting my sniffer everything became unmistakably clear, as the waistband of her pants continued its downward path it revealed the destruction left clinging to her appendages, it was ghastly, a thick, greeny-beige, sticky mass of something literally unexplainable, the quantity alone was the single most alarming factor, all I could think of "was who the hell crapped in my daughters diaper?"

I knew instantly that I was in grave danger,  in over my head and there would be no way that I could stem the pending disaster solo, I was going to need help, in desperation I bellowed for the boob lady who passively stuck her head in the door as if to say “what now”, not initially grasping the gravity of the situation, she stood there passively wondering what it was  that I was unable to handle on my own today, then in an instant her eyes laid feast to what had covered both the fart monster, her pants, her diaper, her change table cover, her shirt, her ones-y, one hastily applied baby wipe and most importantly her father in there entirety did she understand what I was up against.

To say I felt helpless in that instant is more than accurate, unfortunately, as a human, I have only two hands and two feet, when you take into consideration that I had to use my feet to stand and both hands to quell the Fart Monsters limbs from their violent desire to ‘play’ in the nuclear pooh; that left me with all limbs occupied holding my breath, one happily flailing baby trying desperately to free up her legs, an astonished and still un-responding boob lady and one slightly overwhelmed honker left unprotected to be assaulted by the 4 cups of nuclear pooh.

If ever there was a time for action it was now, but we were in a Mexican stand off, I couldn’t let go of the Fart Monsters feet to begin decontamination, the boob lady couldn’t find her way to speak let alone assist and the proud owner of the 4 cup mess had only one thing in mind and it wasn’t helping dad. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Boob Lady came to; my guess is the odor from the  sticky pile of crap had made its way the 20 feet across the room to the door and startled her back to reality.

Eventually we were able to work as a team, hazmat specialists as it were.  With the addition of the Boob Ladies two extra arms and hands we continued in a seamless production of Nuclear Pooh isolation, collection and disposal. It finally appeared that the worst was over, there was light at the end of this dark, smelly tunnel.  We would be okay, however the visual baggage of what took place is gong to stay with me forever, but even after the carnage and utter un-human grossness of what took place, oddly enough, I still consider it a privilege to look after this 'precious' little person, crap disasters and all……because I love her with the same magnitude as a Nuclear Pooh.

February 5, 2006
Nothing to spectacular to report, however Ryan is in the middle of one of her few daytime naps so it seemed like the perfect time to throw in a little update.  We take her everywhere now, it's actually much easier than leaving her at home (which by the way  is apparently against the law).  She loves the grocery store, Melissa says its because she enjoys the bright lights and the smell of food, I think it's the proximity to daddy's favorite place, the NBLCC.  She really likes the car too, usually she either falls asleep, sits amazed by daddy's driving prowess or  frozen in fear by mommy's reckless near misses.  She sleeps mostly through the night, still enjoys mamissa's boob, things that move, making noise with her ass and filling a recently changed diaper.  All and all she's a lot like her mom, but I love her anyway!  
The only real complaint we have with respect to Ryan's birth is Melissa's unfortunate development of a sweet tooth (FANG), although Melissa's doctor and husband are both concerned for her 'health', the plus size clothes stores continue to send complimentary boxes of chocolates to the house.  On the bright side it makes my mom happy, she now has a market for her cookies, cakes and apple crisp.

January 15, 2006

Almost 4 months in and still alive, everyone is doing well, however discussions have changed from the normal what the heck are we suppose to do here, or how much of this stuff do you put on, or maybe we should be warming the nipple as well as the bottle, and the still famous, was that you or her?....to how the heck are we going to get this ball of joy out of our bed so that we can resume normal adult activities (sleeping)? 

 We both agree it is probably harder for us to see her go to her crib than vice versa.  There is something really fulfilling about waking up in the middle of the night and looking at this precious little face staring back without a care in the world.  The innocence of childhood is something very tangible, you can see it in their eyes.  People talk about the 'perspective on life' that having a child gives you, yes this is true, but to me the most dramatic change is your understanding of love, not until I had Ryan had I realized the kind of love my parents had for me, and how my love for them, sincere as it was, is different than the love you have for a child.

Melissa has been a wonderful mom (I knew she would be), and I continue to impress in the diaper pits, having broken my 3 week record of 17.2 seconds by one full second on the 13th as I changed a fully clothed baby (sleeper) in a record time of 16.1 seconds.  Life is good.

November 28, 2005
Well next week will be 12 weeks, lots of little changes going on.  Ryan has found her hands and also her voice.  She now realizes that her vocal cords are capable of more than one sound, and has been entertaining us with her new variety of noises over the past few days.  

She got her immunizations the other day and laughed at the nurse who stuck her with the needles as if to say " is that all you got".  Her farts are getting much louder which is good for me because now it is almost impossible for Mamissa to tell the two of us apart.  Diapers have gone from kind of 'cute' and 'messy' to down right 'full' and 'disgusting'.  I have been laden with the handle of 'Primary Diaper Technician' while mamissa assumes the role of "boob lady".  Now Ryan gets all the boob and I get stuck with big clumps of pooh.

October 23, 2005

Okay 5 weeks in and we are now professional parents, sleep deprived and in love with our new daughter.  Whatever your world revolved around before having a baby is gone, and she has become the center of your universe.  Lots to do day in and day out, to say that you can stay busy 24/7 is an understatement.  Glad to report that the pooh is finally starting to stink so knowing whether or not she needs a change has become much easier.  Pumping milk from mamissa's breast has been interesting, I wonder what percentile of fathers have undertaken this task.  Mamissa is also bound determined to test the theory that you cannot spoil a child in the first three months.  I'm not looking forward to being Ryan, because on the 91st day we are going to find out just how true this is.  All is well, thanks for the notes, letters, food, gifts and CASH!