Confessions of a new dad, vol. 17: Throwing away money

Being a parent gives new meaning to the term disposable income. There's the clothes she wears once before pooping all over or growing out of them. And of course there's all the gear you need to buy that she'll soon to be too big for or have no use for. But I'm not even talking about that. I'm talking stuff you buy that's as good as garbage the second you bring it home.

Diapers. Man, diapers are expensive. We've even recently gone to the generic brand- they may not have recognizable characters from popular children's TV programs- but they work. And they're a lot cheaper. But they're not exactly what I'd call inexpensive, in the grand scheme of things. And think- they're designed to be used once, and tossed. Same could be said for wipes- which we just tried the generic, and the kibosh was put on that one by the wife. They just didn't feel right, or something... a price can be put on some things. But I digress- we buy the stuff, we throw it away. We by more of the stuff- we throw it away. With alarming frequency. She's a baby: she poops and pees a lot- she's supposed to, I get- but it really does feel like we're throwing away money. The alternative, of course, you may tell me is re-usable cloth diapers. To which I respond: show me two parents who also work full time, and don't own their own washer-dryer that have time to launder cloth diapers, and I will ask the them for the device they use that freezes time, because it would be really useful. But in all seriousness- I'd rather throw the away the money, and hold onto at least a shred of sanity- I'm being realistic here. I'm complaining, but I'm being realistic.

Baby formula. Forget diapers. Formula makers of the world... that's where the money is at!! And forget the name brand stuff- we started using the generic stuff as soon as we ran out of the free samples of the brand stuff. After all, the doctor told us the generic stuff is just as good- so, say no more. That said, the generic formula- like their diaper cousin- although cheaper than the alternative, is not inexpensive. But a baby's gotta eat right? Tell her that. Our little K doesn't always like to eat despite all signs pointing to the fact that she's hungry. And the formula label tells you when you must discard unused formula: If it's untouched, 2 hours at room temp or 24 hours in the fridge. But it's never untouched. And if she starts to drink it, thereby mixing her saliva in- it must be consumed in one hour or it needs to be tossed. Even if we don't stay hard and fast to exactly an hour (we try and stretch out a little) we wind up throwing away a good deal of formula. I mean, you want to believe that it's still good for two or three hours, but you also know it's your baby's well-being that's at stake, and you don't want to play around with that. It's just not always easy to tell just how hungry she is- so we'll try and make a little at a time- but of course if she wants more, you have to interrupt her feeding to make a little more, then a little more. Not the best course of action for anybody involved. So when you go on good faith that, yes, she'll polish off 6 oz. this time around- that's when she only feels like taking 2.5... and then falling asleep for just longer than window of time you feel comfortable saving the bottle for. Sigh.

There's no escaping the above expenses. And if you told me I had to throw away crisp $100 bills in order to maintain the well-being of our little girl, I would do it a heartbeat. No question. But it doesn't make it any easier to stomach, financially. And hey, all this is moot if we strike it rich- I'm looking at you, lottery gods (so what if we don't actually play). In the meanwhile we'll be knee-deep in diapers and formula for the foreseeable future; even if our pile of money doesn't reach quite that high.

Confessions of a new dad, vol. 16: Conversation Starter

Living in New York, making small talk with strangers is not something you have to go out of your way to do. In the elevator, on the train- nothing earth-shattering, just small talk. Since becoming a parent, I feel I have become even more small-talkative, especially when I encounter other parents with their small children.

I've always liked seeing babies and small kids while I'm out and about. I'd even make the occasional funny face, or wave at them, or smile at the parent- so as to say your child is cute... Now that I'm a parent though, it's not just mindless talk-about-the-weather stuff, it's also about information gathering. How old? is the first question. Notice the lack of a pronoun attached to the question; often times one can't tell by look if the baby is a boy or girl. Then I offer the information that I have new baby girl at home myself, so as to show I am not just a creepy guy on the train asking questions about their baby. Sometimes the conversation ends there, and we wish each other luck and go on our merry way. But sometimes it goes deeper. Weight, length, developmental stages are all subjects that can be delved into within minutes of striking up this conversation with a complete stranger or strangers.

Nothing truly personal is usually exchanged. In fact- even though I usually walk away knowing the name of the child- nine times out of ten I will not have asked the parents' names. And it doesn't necessarily feel like I should have, either. It's enough that we we had this moment -on the train, in the deli, on the street- as if to remind ourselves we're not fumbling around alone in this new thing we call parenthood. A little small talk can go a long way.

Confessions of a new dad, vol. 15: Gift of grab

One of the great developmental milestones any child achieves early on is learning how to reach and grab things. It's tough not to be bowled over by my little one when she I see the look in her eyes as she reaches out for something and takes it into her tiny little hands. But the curiosity and wonderment that just weeks ago was so adorable and endearing, can turn decidedly not as much so when accompanied by gained dexterity.

Cute: When she reaches out to touch your face.

Not as cute: When she grabs your bottom lip, digs those little nails in, and pulls with all her might.

Cute: During feeding when she reaches out and holds onto the bottle.

Not as cute: During feeding when she reaches out and grabs a hold of the spoon and holds on with a death-grip, threatening to fling whatever it holds asunder.

Cute: When she notices the TV remote, and paws at it like a new toy.

Not as cute: When she grabs the remote off the couch and changes the channel with her mouth at the most inopportune time.

Oh, who am I kidding? That last one is friggin adorable. And really so are the others listed above under the "Not as cute" category for that matter. The one one thing she's always known how to grab is my heart. And I fear that her dexterity in that department will only get sharper and sharper in the months and years ahead.