Dog Days of August

One of the first pictures we sent around after Penny showed up was of our whole family, including Newman, formerly known as our "first born." We got an unexpected response from the picture - that Newman looked forlorn and anxious about his newfound role in our nuclear family.

Would he continue to be top dog? How would this affect his walkies schedule? Will he in fact ever catch that dastardly mail man? These were just a few of the many questions Newman seemed to be asking. (The photo in question is above. To be fair, he had just gotten a haircut, so you can actually see his eyes for a change.)

Now, there is a lot of talk about how to introduce your pet to a newborn (See here for the Humane Society's version). What they don't tell you is that it is really you that needs to prepare yourself for the transition, not Rover.

The problem here is that neither the baby nor the dog can speak for themselves. That means that we need to speak for them, of course. We need to read as much as possible into their expressions to determine just what it is they really feel. We like to call this "canine conjecture," and "infant oracle."

We spent the first few weeks anxiously watching Newman for any sign of rebellion, acceptance, or even intransigence. Apart from a sniff at the diaper here and there, the only effect on Newman seems to be that one of us is home all the time. That and he gets to ride in the front seat of the car now. (He also has a really endearing habit of getting worried anytime Penny cries.) It helps that Newman is a preternaturally good dog, weighing in at only 20 pounds.

All of this is to say that we as a society clearly have way too much time to worry about these things. Would we get rid of Newman if he growled at Penny? No way - we'd find a way to make it work. And we certainly wouldn't get rid of Penny for pulling Newman's tail.

The fact is that our pack is now one member larger. Newman gets to eat whatever falls under the highchair; Penny gets a playmate and protector; and we all get to be a happy family, regardless of what the experts warn us to expect.

Test you canine conjecture skills! What is Newman thinking in the family photo?
	My life as I knew it is over.
	Will I ever get walkies again?
	This diaper thingy sure smells good.
	Did someone say, "chicken?"
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Just Like Mom and Dad

Once again we explore the not-so-complex particulars of our daughter’s digestive system. This is a subject the baby books do cover in great length:

The digestive system exclamations that frequently explode from a newborn’s tiny bottom, at least as emphatically as the grown-up variety, can be unsettling—and sometimes embarrassing—to parents. But, like explosive bowel movements, they are perfectly normal (Murkoff, Heidi, Arlene Eisenberg, Sandee Hathaway. What to Expect the First Year, Workman Publishing, Inc., 2003).

However, it’s still surprising—not the frequency our child “makes wind” or the incredible adult-like volume, but our reaction. We cheer her on, exclaiming after each outburst: “that’s my girl!” or “good one!” and sometimes “was that you or Penny?”

Of course, we’re more discreet in polite company, but still just as proud that her five-week-old digestive track is functioning so…so…audibly.

In spite of any flatulence, Penny is “passed” around at a recent family gathering:

Code Green

First, some housekeeping. Now that we're a little over a month into this enterprise, it is evident that our posting schedule will be approximately once a week. If you'd like us to send you a notice about new postings, drop us a line (newparentblog@yahoo.com). Don't forget, if you have a question, challenge, or issue that could be a good subject for our team's investigative prowess, let us know.

So, today's subject: Poop color. Before you send your favorite potty jokes or make a comment about how juvenile the subject may be, think of this - baby books devote pages and pages to the bowel offerings of our offspring (click here for an example).

For the new parent, the diversity in the diaper is rather unsettling. After all, we are all pretty much experts in the art of the bowel movement, and have had extensive experience discussing things like consistency, color, etc (particularly if you ever lived in a men's freshman dormitory).

But what happens when what comes out of baby is more primary color than subtractive? What is the new parent to think?

As it turns out, one is to think nothing at all. Apparently, the color charts found in the books are just as useless as other color coded warning systems we hear so much about. It doesn't matter what color it is, as long as it is consistently that color.

Couldn't they have told us that in the first place? Of course, as a society, what would we have to talk about, if not for the bowels.

A new poll:

In the best of all possible worlds, what would be your choice of poo color?
	Good old American brown
	All the colors of the rainbow
	Commie pinko
	Orange sherbet
	It ain't easy being green
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Time Suckage

We have always been industrious people, especially on the weekends. One weekend during the winter, we suddenly decided to renovate a basement bedroom, which entailed ripping up carpet, laying tile, applying two coats of paint and replacing ceiling panels – all in about 36 hours. Our elderly neighbor has frequently commented that she believes we lie awake at night dreaming up new projects to tackle.

Now, the baby books are clear on what new parents should expect in the first few months: don’t worry about keeping the house spotless; let friends and family bring you meals; focus on getting lots of rest. What they don’t describe is the black hole into which the hours slip each day, especially on the weekends. By the time baby is fed, changed and dressed, it’s close to 9:00 a.m.; then comes coffee, breakfast and the newspaper – 11:00 a.m. It’s past 2:00 p.m. by the time your spouse asks, “What do you want to do today?” Another day has miraculously passed with little accomplished other than an occasional errand.

We’re not complaining. I’m sure that when child #2 comes along, we’ll look back on this leisure with fondness. But we have a leading theory to explain the time suckage: boob suckage.