Seven Things I Learned During My Three Days as a Single Dad

Bridget went to New York City for a short business trip this week. Such a simple, innocuous sentence, but it carries two huge truths with it:
1. It was the first time Bridget spent a night (two, actually!) away from Annabelle.
2. It was the first time I had to hop in the saddle as a single Dad.

We'll be focusing on No. 2 here.

To make a long story short, everything went fine. No fires, no tantrums, no uncontrollable sobbing. There was an incident with poop on the floor, but that was thanks to our furry first born, Oscar. He's such a delight lately.

Anyway, although everything went fine, I did learn quite a bit during my Tuesday-Thursday stretch as single parent. In fact, I counted seven new bits of education:

1. A bag of Russet Gourmet Dark Potato Chips makes a fine dinner. No cholesterol or preservatives. Hand cooked in 100% pure peanut oil. Pure peanut oil, folks. Pure! It's basically the same thing as a well-rounded meal of chicken and vegetables. Just check out these Amazon reviews! Also, stop judging me. We have six more things to discuss.
2. It's really, really hard to put a toddler's hair into an elastic. Up above, you can see my best attempt. It was actually my eighth attempt that morning, but who's counting? This falls into the "why didn't someone teach me this before she was born?" category with the fruit cutting. 
3. Grandmothers are life savers. Annabelle still goes to daycare in Waltham, which is down the treacherous, traffic-filled Route 95. Driving into the teeth of the Boston commute wasn't much fun (for me or Annabelle) every morning, but Grammy/Mimi, who works in Waltham, was kind enough to bring Annabelle home so I could work a full day. Yay, Mimi! (I suppose I already knew this truth about grandmothers, but a reminder never hurts.)
4. Apparently, grilled cheese on a hamburger roll is an inappropriate lunch. "On a burger roll? The people at daycare are going to think we're hobos," said Bridget, when I informed her of my culinary offering for our toddler. "Other people bring, like, gourmet meals." Well, excuse me. I'll have you know she ATE THE WHOLE THING.
5. Reality almost never mirrors your expectations. Whether your vision of the future is positive or negative, it probably won't happen. I had premonitions of "Mama! Mama!" at 3 AM and they never came to fruition. There are tons of biases that can help explain my fears, but I prefer the simple words of Mark Twain: "I've had a lot of worries in my life, most of which never happened."
6. Baa Baa Black Sheep has some questionable lyrics. I sang it about 40 times in three days and, after a while, you start to get suspicious. Turns out I'm not alone here.
7. Single parents are my heroes. Seriously. My three days were fairly easy, but I honestly can't imagine doing everything all the time. Diaper change? It's you. Throwing food and won't eat? You're up. Sick and needs to go the doctor? Yep, you're on call. Whether you are a single mom or a single dad, you're doing a hell of a job and I bow down to your grit and determination.

If you need me this weekend, I'll be drinking beer and watching The Masters. I think I've earned it.

Three Things I've Learned from Girls' Weekend

I'm a bachelor this weekend. For 48 full hours, it's only me and my furry son, Oscar. I can watch as many sporting events as I want, go for a run whenever the feeling strikes me, and burp as loudly and as often as I'd like. Pretty cool, right? Especially the burping.

It is, as you might be able to tell from the excitement about bodily noises, my first bachelor weekend since little Annabelle joined our lives last September. Bridget and that cute redhead in the photo above are off with the Moynihan crew having a girls' weekend in New York City. Shopping, shows, shoes. Blech. No, thanks.

It's about 30 hours into this bachelor weekend and I've already learned three things about these rare events. In no particular order:

1. I really, really miss my wife and my daughter. I skipped home from work on Friday evening with the excitement of an empty calendar in front of me. I didn't have to worry about feeding Annabelle a pouch for her dinner. I could watch whatever I wanted before bed. And I could stay up doing whatever I damn well pleased until whenever I damn well felt like it.

I was tired from the long week, but started with an invigorating trip to the gym. Then, at 6:30, I was ready to really dive in, to live the care-free life I once knew and loved. And then I realized I wished Annabelle was around so I could feed her a pouch. (I ate a pair of Lean Pockets by myself instead. Sad, right? At least they had a pretzel crust!) And when I turned on the TV, I wished Bridget was there to tell me she was in more of a Mindy Project mood. (I watched a newer episode of The Simpsons, which is still a pretty funny show.) And then, about that do-whatever-I-want bedtime? 9:45!

2. I am incapable of "sleeping in." I'm tired. Even though Annabelle has been a pretty good sleeper in her first eight months, being a new Dad is the most exhausting experience of my life. Lately, she's started a new habit of waking up at either 1 AM, 2 AM, or 3 AM on most nights. (She's creative, so she varies the time from one night to the next.) So, as you can imagine, the prospect of actually sleeping in without a crying baby or an alarm to wake me was thrilling.

And as I noticed the light peeking in through the curtains and heard the sound of Oscar stretching from the bottom of the bed, I was about to pat myself on the back. Well done, Mike. You caught up on some shut-eye. You slept until … 5:41.

3. It's really important to have these experiences. So far, I realize I've made this bachelor weekend seem awful and lame. I assure you it's not. Friday night was incredibly relaxing, Saturday is a combination of a visit with the newly named Nana Briddon and a guys' night out, and Sunday will be filled with Oscar time and some prep for Bridget's first Mother's Day. It's exactly what I needed.

But that's not why it's important. Not the main reason, anyway. It's really important because it makes me realize how lucky I am the other 51 weekends of the year.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go watch a baseball game and burp at the TV.

Are New Parents Boring?

A few weeks ago, we hung out with some friends we hadn't seen in a while. After the obligatory hugs and handshakes, we got down to talking about what we had been doing for the past few months and what was ahead for the spring. As you might expect, this newly married couple talked about traveling, bachelorette parties, and their favorite types of beer. They talked about Vermont, New York City, and New Orleans. They talked about good food, good movies, and good fun. 

And then they asked about us.

"Well, we had a baby."

(Silence.)

(Awkward silence.)

(Where did those damn crickets come from?)

We all laughed about it, of course, because they're nice people and our sudden change in lifestyle is kind of funny. But "Well, we had a baby" is a pretty good summation of our last five months on this Earth. It'll be a pretty good summation of the next five, too. And as the conversation moved in a different direction, it struck me: Are we boring? And, on a larger scale, are all new parents boring? 

At face value, I suppose the answer is yes. I mean, we must seem very boring to newly married couples and, undoubtedly, to single people we know. Let's face it: Falling asleep before 10 PM on a Saturday night has never been "cool." "Do you mind if I don't shower today?" is not a distinctly sexy question. 

It's not like we don't do things. We go out for dinner, visit friends, take naps, and take long family walks. We have date night and we're even going to a concert next month. So, we do stuff. It's just that the stuff (save the concert and the occasional date night) usually includes our beloved Belle.

In fact, Belle was with us that day with our friends. As I answered the question about our recent activities, I immediately thought of her as a great accomplishment that made the last five socially slower months seem acceptable.

That's how people think of babies -- as accomplishments. I sat in a conference room of health care professionals last fall and listened as 29 out of 30 people talked about their kids as the most important thing in their lives. (One dude was crazy about triathlons.) But babies aren't really accomplishments. Accomplishments fade. You accomplish something -- an A on a test, a game-winning shot, a new raise -- and then eventually move on and forget about that thing. Babies, on the other hand, define your life. At all times, you're thinking about your child. Maybe not literally every second, but certainly every hour. What's she doing? Is she happy? I can't wait to see her smile again. I hope she likes me when she grows up. These thoughts constantly swirl in your head. 

And along with defining your life, babies are a convenient excuse to get out of social situations we dislike, which makes us seem more boring. I've used Belle as an excuse and I'll continue to do it in the future. The simple reality is that no reasonable person can say, "Oh, that's really lame that you want to hang out with your daughter." (I mean, you can say that, but you'd be a huge jerk.) 

This week, though, I watched a video that immediately changed my perspective on this boring question. I'd seen the video before, but this time, it really hit me. It's called "This is Water" and it's an illustration of a commencement speech by the late author David Foster Wallace. Here's the link. (If you haven't watched it, I strongly encourage you to take the nine minutes.) 

It made me realize that we're boring -- and new parents are boring -- only if we choose to be. It all comes down to altering your perception and how you feel during the everyday, grind-it-out moments of your life. To put it in specific terms, I'd rather feed Belle oatmeal than get drunk at a bar. And a trip with Belle to the Curious George store in Harvard Square brings me more joy than a round of golf. 

So it may seem, at first blush, like new parents are boring. Early bedtimes, middle-of-the-night wake-ups, and eating at restaurants at 5 PM to beat the dinner rush can certainly sound boring to newly married couples, single friends, and even retirees. But, in reality, this is, without question, the most interesting my life has ever been.