Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Eat it, Supernanny!

Perhaps all it took was a bit of time watching some bad parenting. Little BA went down at just before midnight and awoke at...brace yourself...6:45. This was after we saw an episode of Supernanny where the Mom kept nursing until the kid was 14 months. I think that creeped BA out. My guess is that she thought she'd act like a big girl as to avoid an awkward childhood of public nursing. With six plus hours of uninterrupted sleep I feel like a whole new person. I was shockingly sharp in my first meeting of the day and even smiled at some passerbys on my walk to work. Hell, I've written this whole paragraph without using my hands or having the computer even plugged in. Watch out world, Daddy's got some sleep!

Here's some advice which I've received from parents who have subscribed to those weekly baby progress updates...don't. They tend to do nothing but make you feel like you're child is delayed in way or another. Every child is different and will likely have their own timetable for development. If something is really wrong you'll know (or at least your doctor will know). As long as they're doing something right focus on that. If they walk but can't do a simple puzzle, fantastic. Your little one will make a great Pussycat Doll. If they talk but don't hold their head upright don't worry about it. Talk radio or telemarketing beckon. Being one-dimensional is by no means a barrier to success. If all they can do is follow your finger with their eyes, celebrate that. Make them the best damn finger follower in the world. It's about time the current champion's rein comes to an end anyways. Who even watches finger following anymore now that there's no question who's going to win? I also have some advice on the subject, even if you decide to follow these updates with your children for God's sake cancel the subscription once they grow up. My mother called me the other day to check if I'd met my targets for week 1,568. Apparently I'm supposed to have developed a taste for Phil Collins music and the ability to fake laugh when co-wrokers make dumb jokes. Let me move at my own pace, Jeanne. I'm also supposed to be able to bathe myself. F that!

BA's amazing feat of slumber was one of two highlights this week, the other being Sunday brunch. After a not so restful night I offered to take her out for a walk on Sunday morning so Momma could get some sleep. I figured I'd just keep walking until she was clearly calm (read asleep). This occurred about 6 blocks in to the trek. At this point I sought out breakfast assuming I'd be limited to a McDonalds or Starbucks due to space and stroller constraints. I was pleasantly surprised when I walked by Barrio on Queen St. East and noticed there was more than enough room for the kid's wheels. I was able to enjoy a leisurely brunch of eggs benedict (good, but take the home fries over the over-dressed salad) with a couple of coffee refills while she slept. Not only was I able to eat but I was also able to catch up on some reading for work. I could have read half the newspaper if I was so inclined. The whole episode should have been taped and shown at pre-natal classes as a pep talk for dads-to-be. Dads, don't be afraid to take the kid out on your own, even at an early age. The key is finding the right environment. A fellow dad asked me if I was worried that I would upset fellow patrons. Not at all, if she went insane I could have calmed her or, failing that, left. A couple of peeps from a cute baby are much less intrusive than the vast majority of inane Sunday morning conversations had by the Toronto brunch set. I'd much rather hear the sounds a baby makes as opposed to tales of guest lists and velvet ropes being spewed by some chick wearing a windshield where her sunglasses should be. Shockingly, I don't care which of your sorority sisters or high school friends you ran into at the Drake so maybe you can keep it down...and by the way, if you run into one of said individuals at one of those typical haunts it's not a "small world". It's a mathematical probability, you frigging douchebag! Stop mis-using that term!

Calm down, big fella. Look at how quickly I went from cutesy baby talk to railing in anger. Even my typing got louder. I have a problem. Anyways, to recap: Babies can sleep through the night at six weeks and you can take your daughter to a resto-pub (bar-staurant?) without ruining your meal or that of those around you, unless of course you want to.

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