Here I am, breaking the silence after quite some time now. Man, has life been busy.
So, we never meant to stop posting on here, but as things have it, life got a little bit crazy for a while there and this blog had to get pushed way back on the priority list. It feels like things have been go, go, go for so long and I’m happy to say that it’s hopefully going to slow down for a second here soon.
What have we been busy with, you may ask? Well, for starters, I was doing summer classes and working, and Kayleigh was, well, being the rockstar that she is. She was taking care of Emmy, all day, every day for the most part, for the month and a half-ish that I was busy away from the house. She was also doing all the shopping and most of the cleaning and basically everything else that needed done. It’s safe to say that neither of us had much time on our hands at the end of the day to sit down and blog.
My hope is that we can get back to posting and giving you a glimpse into the things we’re up to in the coming week or two. I can’t promise that we’ll be posting as much (even three days a week gets rough when you’re a parent), but we will do what we can to keep writing and talking to you guys. Writing is important to me and Kayleigh really seemed to be getting into Mama Monday, so we’ll be around.
Keep up with us—we’re not half bad.
We love you long time.
I get to do this weekend, something that I haven’t done in a long, long time. Spend a couple long days with my tiny baby and I’m looking forward to it!
We were together today from around 4:30-on and we had a pretty good night. Granted, Emmy goes to bed at eight, but what can ya do. We had a good few solid hours together and it was cool.
I used to be with her three days a week from like 7:30 am until nearly 10 pm. It was a good time and I loved spending all that time with her, just father and daughter, straight chillin’. But she was a blob then and pretty incapable of getting into things and hurting herself severely. That’s not the case now, though!
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Alright, alright, now I understand that it may be weird to have an entire post about coffee—or maybe not at all… I don’t know. What I do know is that without the magic substance, I might not be here today, you know, because I have a kid.
Now I know that there are those out there that don’t have a taste for coffee and those that seem to be anti-coffee, for some strange reason. I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong! Coffee is one of the greater things in life and if you don’t like it… you must be sick.
My friendship with Joe (Joe because it’s so funny and witty to call coffee Joe) began at age 23, shortly after I stopped drinking alcohol. I had never had much of a taste for coffee until I dropped one habit and picked up another. I know it sounds like it was just a replacement—and hell, maybe that’s what it is—but it feels like a lot more than that. Joe helps me focus and get the shit done that needs done and helps keep me from falling asleep at my desk at work after we have a rough night with Emmy. And that has happened, more than once—I’m just sayin’—moffuga gets tired bein’ a dad and all, haha.
Coffee has become my crutch—but in a good way; it helps support me in a non-deadly way such as alcohol was providing me. It’s actually pretty healthy for me, according to some studies, and that makes it even better. There really is nothing like a nice, black cup of coffee when you’re fighting to stay conscious or even when you’re just trying to relax, thus why it had to be written about more than just in an in-passing way. So there you have it—my little friendship story with coffee.
I love you, boo.
I guess today I’ve got a little ode to or a little shoutout to stay-at-home parents. I am not one myself but I know that being one has got to be incredibly tough.
I once found myself a part-time stay at home dad when we were still living in Vancouver, Washington and I worked full-time, four days a week, and Kayleigh worked full-time, three days a week. So I spent three full days with Emmy, from like 7am to 9pm, just the two of us, kickin’ it. Keep in mind, Kayleigh was doing it four days, from 9am to 10pm or later. This is all after she already had to (as if she minded) stay at home for something like seven weeks after Emmy was born for her maternity leave, which was unpaid, by the way.
I’ve got to say, in the months that I did the whole all-day parenting thing—it was hard, like, it whooped my ass. I’m surprised we both even made it back then, like, we’re both here and in one piece and I think that’s impressive. But I did have really hard days being with Emmy all by myself, and I mean ALL by myself. We lived in the PNW all alone, with no family near or anything. Okay, so Kayleigh’s cousin Tiffany lived in downtown Portland but she’s a doctor and we rarely saw her so that doesn’t count. And yes, she did have a great aunt and uncle that lived at the coast 2.5 hours away, but hey, they lived on the coast, 2.5 hours away…
Have any of you ever had a ferret? You know, those long tube-like, semi-crazy little mustelids (not rodents, I checked. Google it!) that scurry around and have no chill? The ones that steal all of your stuff and have ALL the energy and sometimes bite you if they feel like it?
Well, I hate to have to inform you all, but Emmy has become a ferret.
Recently—like sometime in the last couple of weeks—she’s decided that one of the greatest things in the world is taking other peoples things and putting them in places that they would never think to look.
The other day Kayleigh and I were making dinner and Emerson was running around, doing what she does—being a nutcase and attacking the animals—what else? She then proceeded to grab Kayleigh’s stepdad’s flip-flops and made her way into the kitchen where we were slaving over the counter and stove, working hard to get food ready for her. She walked over to the oven, opened the drawer underneath, threw the flip-flops in, and walked away.
Here’s a little story about an umbilical cord situation. Don’t know what I mean by that? Get to reading then, silly!
Are we ready for some more blood? Not nearly as much as in the last post—the bloody, gory, unexpected c-section—but just a little. I foresee lots blood, booboo’s, butts, and beers* (just kidding) in my future considering I now have a small child to care for—a tiny, uncoordinated, little drunk of a child—so you’re going to have to bear with me from here on out.
It was approximately six days after Emmy was born; my mother, sister, her boyfriend, and my brother were still in town, as were Kayleigh’s mother and stepfather. So, Emerson and I were in the living room, everyone else was kinda just dilly-dallying around, probably bored out of their minds because it was raining outside and we couldn’t really take a new baby anywhere. I’m sure they were eating and talking away as well because my family be hungry and they never shut up. I love you guys.
Where we are: the home stretch and almost with a baby in hand.
Warning: this is the graphic one, the final piece of the parental puzzle, the blood, guts, and gore of the story. Prepare yourself.
Resuming in 3…2…1…
So there we were, sitting stunned at the words that the doctor had just muttered. C-section? Why? How? I wanted to ask if we maybe hadn’t tried something, had forgotten a special way to get a baby out when they seem to be being stubborn. I knew the answer, though. I knew that it shouldn’t take two-and-a-half hours of pushing to get a baby out; I knew that the baby was probably stuck and I couldn’t help but be scared half out of my mind for her and for Kayleigh. That wasn’t how things were supposed to go, yet there we were.
Kayleigh cried. I tried my best not to cry myself but I believe that I probably betrayed a few tears at the time. I was scared to death and I couldn’t help but show it just a little. At the moment you’re told your girlfriend needs a c-section to get your baby out, a lot of things flash through your head: Is the baby going to be okay? Is Kayleigh going to be okay? What would I do if something were to happen to either of them? I know, I know, a little paranoid, right? Not really, though, not if you’ve ever read one of those terrible, depressing stories about the semi-rare accident or the unforeseen complications that have happened to couples just like you…