Even if you had been "trying" (politically correct way of saying playing a LOT of Barry White and Al Green) for months or even years, the new Poppa reaction is I think more closely related to earth shattering shock. Dads, correct me if I'm wrong. Rage and Spazz, your Dad's reaction was and I quote "What are we gonna do with it, it's not the cat?"
Eventually, the shock wears off and thus begins the flurry of excitement and preparation that will carry on through the next nine months. Now the tale all about pregnancy and delivery surely merits it's own blog and the purpose of this little tale is to prepare you two for having your own children one day (Boys, this is not negotiable btw I want grandbabies! I've been assured that grandchildren are your reward for surviving the raising of your own children), and also highlight the glorious differences between the "Mom Way" and the "Dad Way".
After the first few months of new baby-dom (AKA-The Walking Dead Days, seriously why did y'all never sleep?) you hit your stride as parents.
Feeding the baby:
Diapering the baby:
Even getting the baby to sleep:
You each find your own way to do these things. Your Dad was by far a neater baby feeder. My love of pictures with you guys wearing on your spaghetti on your heads outweighed the bath time nightmare that always followed. Never until you have kids did you think you'd have to shampoo marinara sauce out of a fellow human being's hair.
This segues into the quintessential anecdote I have about the Mom way vs. Dad way....bath time. Now Rage, you are the star of this particular show. It was after one of these spaghetti wearing dinners that your Dad lost the rock-paper-scissors to give you a bath. Daddy carried you upstairs kind of like this (without the crying)
And proceeded to give you a bath. After I'd finished checking facebook doing the dishes, I headed up to check and see how you guys were doing. There you were all cute and nekkie and bubbly :) and your dad was holding you under your cute little arms and was more or less plunging you up and down gently in the bubbly water. Intrigued I asked him what he was doing.
Dad-"Well, washing the baby of course."
Mom-"What parts are you trying to get clean exactly?"
Dad-"Well his Downstairs, the water's soapy so a good plunging should do the trick, don't ya think?"
Mom-Can no longer be quoted as I momentarily died of laughter.
Moms will always be the washcloth all over kind of parent, whereas Dads adopt a plunge or water hose approach. Moms will demand two bites of hated vegetables and make you clean your room. Dad's will let you slide sometimes, and classify ketchup as a vegetable. Is one parenting style better than the other? After nearly a decade of this kid raising stuff I can honestly say no. Your Dad is by far more laid back and the guy you need around on the first night of the "Cry it out" sleep method, all manner of technology/video game duties, and a crap ton of other tasks I'm no good at.
I also want to point out that over time, you pick up your partner's parenting traits. This past week, Rage came down with nasty case of Strep Throat. After the rock paper scissors of who would stay out with him (best way to make parenting decisions in case you haven't noticed), your Dad got you ready to go to the Doctor. I was running out the door to head to work, but not before I noticed how gently he picked you up and carried your big strong five year old self to the truck. Since you felt so bad, you were sort of draped over him with your head on his shoulder. He kissed your head and buckled you up. Now Dads may get the rep for being the rough and tumble fun guy, but at that moment it was glaringly apparent that the "Dad Way" can sometimes look a hell of a lot like the "Mom Way".
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