Parents and the Internet: what can go wrong?

I’m now back at work so that means I’m spending less time with the baby and more time with my other baby: the internet.

And I’m on the internet more, not because I have more time on my hands when I’m at work, but rather I now have the use of both hands to log-on to my computer. You try hitting Ctrl-Alt-Delete while holding a baby.

To be honest, if it weren’t for the internet, I would be the worst parent ever; which ironically is something a bad parent would say. I totally have Adult ADHD so reading a baby book is like, well, reading a text book about babies. But for me, searching for baby advice on the internet is akin to solving a puzzle or playing a video game. So when Carrie asks, “why can’t we feed our newborn red meat?” I’m like, “I’m on it!”

What’s funny is I imagine this visual that I look like Hugh Jackman in Swordfish, drinking wine, dancing to cool techno jazz music while “hacking” into the internet for Carrie’s answer. I’m all typing fast on my keyboard, getting red blinking “ACCESS DENIED” screens and yelling out random words like “cypher” and “hydra”. When I finally get the answer I hump the air and pump my fists and slowly turn to Carrie and calmly say, “you can’t feed her a steak sandwich because {insert random answer that contradicts everything else you have ever heard}”, I follow up by saying, “you can thank the ‘hydra’ for that one. Oh, by the way, I'm out of the hacking game"

But seriously, one of my new favorite pastimes is lurking on mommy message boards like babycenter.com and mothering.com.

Although, one question about the mommy-baby internet message boards: how many f-ing initialisms can a group of sheltering suburban mothers come up with? Every other word is an acronym. I mean, reading the forums is like trying to decode a pre-teen’s text messages. Like last time I check the forums on mothering.com, the title of one of the posts, I sh-t you not, was

“I completely AP my DD (16 m/o). MIL let LO CIO!!! What do I do now?!!”

Translation: I raise my 16 month old daughter under the Attached Parenting philosophy. My mother in law lets my baby “Cry it Out” (which is totally counter to the AP). I know exactly what your advice will be and I am looking to a faceless message board for moral support so I can drum up the courage to confront my mother in law. (or something like that)

But to be fair, the majority of people on the boards (including myself) are truly just looking for advice and most of the time they get some good support. For example a good portion of folks on the forums fall into the category of:

Reasonable concerned parents
“Does anyone use a Boppy to prop a baby up while napping? A lot of my friends do it, even though the packaging says not to. We tried it (under close supervision) and it worked wonders in getting our LO (little one) to relax. Just wanted to hear some additional opinions”.

A well thought out, concise post. Thank you Reasonable Concerned Parent. I award you 10 imaginary internet karma points.

But what I actually love is reading through the bad advice. The other half of the forums fall under the next three categories:

Cheerleaders
“Babies love the Boppy!!!!! We use it to prop the LO while my DS takes a nap!! It allows my SO and I to go shopping, watch a movie, and, more importantly, SNUGGLE!!!!! All my GFs do it, so don’t for one second feel any doubt in using the B!!!! You are a strong hard working momma and I applauded you!!! You go, life giver!!!!”

I guess this is what sleep deprivation, microwavable food, and limited adult interaction does to people.

Buzzkills
“I have three friends who know babies that have died using the Boppy in that way. If you and your SO care for your child, then you will burn it. It’s the least that any loving parent would do”.

The Buzzkill’s message history: posts about the “right way” to parent, pleas for others to be decent parents, and product recalls. The world needs buzzkills; just not so many of them.

Braggers (aka: liars)
“regarding the Boppy, does anyone else have the problem of their little one perfectly latching onto the breast, eating without interruption, and then sleeping through the night? I’m just afraid that my child is eating too easily and getting waayy to much sleep”.

I like to imagine that in some alternate universe you can punch people in the face through your laptop screen.

Mint Condition

Check out our cool announcements:
If you don't get the reference, then you must not remember a post I made 4 months ago. And if that's the case, then I don't know if we can be friends: Topps or Upper Deck.


If you think that's cool you should check out our save the dates.

The New Normal

Imagine if you will: a simpler time.

For me that was this past May.

You have a pregnant Carrie on the couch, fully rested and carefully filling out “our” birth plan, ever so forcing me to have an opinion on whether or not I want the “lights lowered when labor begins” or if I want to “touch my baby’s head when it crowns” or if we “want a mirror to view the birth”. But then in the end I was like, “damn lady, it’s not like we’re arguing over the Netflix queue. You’re passing a human being through your vagina; I’m willing to compromise on the mirror thing”.

In the same way Carrie’s nether-regions are still recovering from my daughter’s huge noggin, my brain is still recovering from witnessing the grossest miracle I have observed in my whole life. Because of it, I now have a 4th degree tear of my soul, and there are no amount of stitches that can repair my torn psyche. And if you don’t get the 4th degree tear reference, then consider yourself lucky. Let’s put it this way, with a 4th degree tear you can basically perform “the shocker” with one finger. Luckily, Carrie only has a minor tear, but that’s kinda like saying “we’re going to hit your nut sack with this book rather than with a crowbar”.

And we tried to prepare for the birth. We read books. We watched videos. We did the birth plan thing. All the while, I kept looking at Carrie with a forced smile saying “um, good luck with that”. But really, nothing can prepare a father for childbirth. I felt like I was preparing a boxer to fight Mike Tyson in his prime. You try to be supportive, but in the back of your mind you’re like “I wish I could get in the ring with you, but....um, good luck with that”.

The only way I can describe childbirth (from my perspective) is to try and imagine taking the most constipated, hard, dry, hurtful poop. Take that feeling and now imagine that, rather than passing out a regular size poop, you are pooping out an 7 pound burrito, fully intact.

Part of our preparation for the miracle was taking a birthing class. For my future reference, I’ve marked down some of the differences between the birthing class and what actually happened during the birth of Daphne.



A couple hours after the kid is born Carrie is passed out and I’m holding the baby. I decide to put little Daphne in the clear plastic bassinet at the edge of the room, but suddenly the stupidest question pours over my head:

How the heck do babies sleep?

Do I put her on her back? On her side? Do I keep her wrapped up in a swaddle? Do I hang her upside down like a vampire?

So I’m sitting there in the dark, holding my two hour old baby, thinking that my best option is to just hold her the whole night; totally oblivious to the fact that there’s a registered nurse just outside the door. I’m so sleep deprived yet so determined to stay awake; kicking myself for not knowing the simplest of parenting details. Within three hours of my kid’s life I’ve already f-ked up.

I’m so screwed.

It slowly comes to me that from now on this might be the new normal. That no matter how many books I read or how many mommy-message-boards I peruse, there's going to be a crap load of instances in this kid’s life where I have no idea what the heck I am doing.

And that in these instances sometimes the only recourse is to just stay awake, simply hold my little girl in my arms, and make sure that everything will be alright (even if I have no idea what the heck I'm doing).

As I’m looking at her tiny little face with her mother all passed out in the bed next to us, I realize that I’m alright with that.

I'm going hold this little girl in my arms forever.