Being the first parent to be left alone with your offspring for an extended period of time is kind of like a badge of honor. If you would have asked me six months ago, I would have guessed it would be K that was wearing that badge. I would have been wrong.
So fast-forward to now and after going all “Super Dad” for the last 2 1/2 days, I was feeling pretty good. The little man was alive, the dog was alive, and I was alive, which was all very reassuring. We made it to and from daycare everyday; we feasted on Chinese food, pizza and breast milk (well, not all of us had pizza); we listened to music, sang, and played the bongo drums; we even wore pants that didn’t match our outfit.
All in all, a huge success, right? Well, here’s the the thing. During our bachelor time, Q only pooped once…the first day. Now I know what you’re thinking…that seems like a victory…but it is, in fact, a terrifying game of Diaper-Changing Roulette. Also, one evening, while attempting to get up out of the rocking chair without waking the baby and using only my leg strength, I promptly pulled a muscle in my butt that I didn’t know I had. There was “the pop” and everything. Apparently I didn’t activate my glutes before I got up. Ask Tiger Woods…he knows what I’m talking about.
So is that a victory? Like I said…you tell me.