Griffin Mancini born two weeks early!

Here's a pic of Isabella holding Griffin Daniel Mancini. Quite unexpected. Breach babies are not supposed to come early! They're supposed to come when they are scheduled. Clearly an early act of petulance.

My wife and I were just talking about how ready we would be for the new baby. We had two more whole weeks to get diapers, wash sheets, get the bassinet out of the garage, etc. Luckily we had most of the heavy lifting done. The baby's room was painted and setup and the garage was converted to my new office. I'm calling it an office because wives get angry if you call it an "escape dome"

Suddenly Audge started having sharp pains on the morning of July 2. She called the doctor and he said to put heat on it as sharp pains are generally not labor pains. Our last baby was a C-Section too so she had no idea what labor pains felt like. An hour later she was feeling worse and the doctor said what I was fearing: "Go to the hospital" We left around 10 am and the baby was out by 1:00 pm with an emergency c-section. It was a hassle, but you can't really beat the time efficiency. In fact, it happened so quickly when I went back to get the camera by the time I got back to the OR they had already started making the first incision. They could have at least waited until I was behind the curtain I did not need to pull a Dorothy and see the Wizard. Behind the curtain is just fine, thank you. So speedy delivery aside, everything went well and everyone is healthy, so that's all you can ask for.

This did make me laugh. While we were being prepped my wife's labor pains got worse. After an hour or so of labor pains, my wife simply looked at me and said "This whole labor thing is for the birds." Ah yes, truly the downside of being a mammal. Why do you think birds lay eggs?

The Many Life-Stages of IKEA

I was in IKEA recently. That’s when it really hit me. IKEA is the kind of place you only go to at certain stages of your life. Like Chuck E Cheese’s, or the Proctologist.

July 15th is coming upon us like a freight train and there is still a million things to do before the baby gets here. We decided to go to IKEA to buy four shelves. One for Bella’s toys, one for the new baby and two for me in the new garage/office. We also needed a toy box. The toy box was out of stock and we realized we needed a bigger shelf which wouldn’t fit in our car. Then Bella beamed another kid in the head with one of the inflatable balls at the kid’s section. Bad behavior, but good arm. Anyway, it was a wasted trip. So I decided to come back a few days later with my friend’s SUV. It was a Honda CRV so I didn’t feel too guilty about it.

That’s when it hit me. You only go to IKEA at certain times in your life. The first time is usually when you need crappy furniture for your dorm or college apartment. Then you go again after college when you need more crappy furniture for your first crappy post college apartment.

Then, there’s a break. You get married, buy a house, and then you and your spouse both say, “Fuck IKEA. I want some nice furniture for a change.” So you buy some nice furniture, and then a child is born, you buy a baby set, and then a new set of furniture when they’re a toddler and then you think you’re done for a while.

Oh, no. Then the second baby comes and you wonder how the hell you’re going to afford it. You realize you’ve kept everything from the first baby but now you’re still paying off your toddler’s furniture. Sure, no interest for a year sounded great at the time… but “that year goes by so fast…”

So we needed more stuff. We didn’t use the word crappy. We used “cheaper”. So it was back to IKEA. Four bookcases for $200. Of course, you have to go into the stockroom and get them yourself and put them together like a Neanderthal, but oooh, the savings! And will our new son care that his bookshelf is made out of pressed paper and wood by-product? Eventually yes, but not for a while. We got him a nice picture of a rocket to distract him.

So God Bless ‘em, IKEA knows their market. Now that I think about it, after college when I was in there buying a table and chairs, I think the cashier looked at me funny. I couldn’t figure it out at the time but now I know that wily cashier was giving me a knowing look that was saying, “You’ll be back.”

Father's Day Solid

Father’s Day, like Mother’s Day, takes on a whole new meaning when you have a kid. But this time, instead of running around at the last minute for a present for my wife I get to be on the receiving end of the parenty goodness.

Bella woke up with growing pains (yes, they really do exist, and it’s not just a contrived Allan Thicke/Kirk Cameron television show) early in the morning. So Father’s Day started at 4:30 am in our house. We brought Bella in bed with us. Bringing a toddler in your bed is pretty much a guarantee that no one is sleeping anymore in your house, from you, your wife, to the cat. After getting kicked repeatedly in the back I went to sleep in Bella’s bed for another hour or two. You know, because it was Father’s Day.

A few days earlier I was allowed to get my most awesome Father’s Day present. I had been saving up for a Playstation 3 and went on to bore my wife about the best model, backwards compatibility, HDMI inputs, HD resolutions and the scarcity of the Metal Gear Sold 4 bundle. Her eyes just glazed over and then she just said the same thing every wife says: “How much?”

I went on to explain if I added up what I already had saved from my birthday money (I realize this makes me sound like a 12 year old) and bought it at Target and got 10% off for applying for the Target Card it would be reasonable. The thing is, I had just finished three full days of moving my office into the garage and painting the new baby’s room so I had a little fatherly credit at that point. Oh, and I spent it. On high definition gaming goodness. Now I can see more detail when I blow shit up.

Funny thing was I had just dropped Bella off at daycare and went to Target the morning of the release of the new Metal Gear Solid Playstation 3 bundle. I got there and there was already a guy in front of me buying one. He had his infant in a carrier beside him. We looked at each other. We both had the same idea. He bought his, picked up his infant, looked at me, and said “have fun.”

And I did. I got a new Playstation, went out to dinner with Audge and Bella and had a great Father’s Day. All in high def.

Why does the entertainment industry think fathers are all assholes?

As a lot of you know, I’ve been writing a book on fatherhood for a while. I’m new to the whole book writing thing and it’s been quite an experience so far. In fact, although I’ve been working on it for a while I really feel like the process is just starting.

I was determined that if I couldn’t get a book agent or a publisher I would self publish and either way my book would be out there. But my friends encouraged me to really try the agent route, so I did.

I got some very odd responses and it surprised me a bit. Mainly agents, producers, and every other gatekeeper in the entertainment business just say no. They don’t like your stuff or they don’t know what to do with it. Fine. Art in every medium is subjective.

But the response I was getting from book agents was a no but not because of the content. It was a no because of an outdated incorrect stereotype of men and fathers. “Men don’t read.” “Men don’t care about fatherhood books” “Fatherhood books don’t sell” “No publisher wants a fatherhood book. It just doesn’t work.”

Men don’t READ?! That’s like saying women don’t drive. Now, I did my research. It’s a tough market. Which is a ludicrous statement. EVERY market is a tough market. I have NEVER heard anyone say, "It's a really easy market. I don't know why there aren't more millionaires, since the market is so easy. Really, you don't have to do much of anything and there's no competiton."

There are successful fatherhood books and successful humorous ones. But why is the market tough? Because of the above reasons? Of course not. The reason is that the books on the shelves are themselves outdated and nothing new or interesting is available. Have you ever read a fatherhood book? You may as well read "Crime and Punishment." See which one you finish first, and which one you get more out of. They are outdated and even the humorous ones are watered down and feel like they are written for women as if that is somehow the same market.

Television is no better when it comes to treating fathers like assholes. Please, no more sitcoms about overweight incompetent Dads married to attractive women who “love them anyway.” I’m not even sure which part is more in the realm of patriarchal fantasy. So every guy is an overweight incompetent buffoon who lets his hot wife raise his kids. Got it. Great. Thanks, Hollywood.

At least in movies we get “Kramer vs. Kramer”. That was an amazing movie. But for every Kramer Vs Kramer there’s a hundred fathers who are “good cops” but never have time to make their marriages work or see their kids…. Blah blah blah….

Market has nothing to do with it. If people are interested in something, they will find it. They may even buy it. In he age of the internet, it really is that simple. Type the most fucked up thing you can think of into YouTube. Not only will it be there, but there will be thousands of views. Not that I've tried it... I've just heard. One thing some entertainment people never get: You can't chase a market or a trend because you're always going to be one step behind.

Oh, and I did get an agent. A guy who didn’t even have kids, but saw the potential of the book. The book proposal is on its way to publishers now. Fingers crossed. But like I said, it’s less critical now. With publishing on demand at Amazon and other online places, my book can be sold right next to “Crime and Punishment.” In fact, I may even demand it.

Our Milk Money

This week's Blog is over at http://ourmilkmoney.blogspot.com/

Enjoy!

Mother's Day

Having a child gives a whole new meaning to Mother’s Day. It used to be “Okay, I have to call my mother and send her a gift.” But now there is a mother right in your own house. That’s TWO cards, TWO gifts, but probably still only one phone call. Still it’s like twice the work.

A few days before Mother’s Day my wife said, “We don’t have to go out to brunch on Sunday. We can just stay home.” Obviously I then immediately started pricing brunches and checking availability for Sunday. When a woman says you or we don’t have to do something, you better get going and do it.

Our daughter made my wife a nice present at school and I bought her chocolate and some bath stuff. I’m not really sure what it was. I got it at the mall and it smelled orangey and citrusey.

As I was paying for it the girl asked me if I wanted to buy gift-wrap and a gift bag. I said sure. Then she asked me if I wanted her to wrap the gift for me.
“Of course.” I replied, like that was a ridiculous question. She noticed.
“Sometimes people want to wrap it themselves,” she explained.
“Are they men?”
She laughed and shook her head. Then she wrapped the gift.

Sure enough on Friday my wife said she changed her mind and did want to go out to breakfast on Sunday. But the prices for brunch were insane, like $30 a person for pancakes. So we went out but too a restaurant instead.

But going to a restaurant with a toddler is like playing a game of Russian Roulette. Sometimes good, sometimes… not so good and someone has to be drug screaming out of the restaurant. Then my wife went back and got our daughter.

But that didn’t happen this time. Sometimes you get a pleasant, uneventful day and I was thankful for it. Bella was good at the restaurant, Audge liked her presents, including the wrapping, and we relaxed the rest of the day. We even called the “other” Moms who are now called Grandmom and Nana.

Now when my wife asks me if I want to go out for breakfast on Father’s Day I’m just going to say, “Yes.” See how easy that was? Oh, and no one has a Father’s Day Brunch. What’s up with that? I like eggs benedict too, you know.

"My Mom is Going to Kill Me!"

So we’re getting ready for the new baby which is coming July 15. We still don’t have a name picked out. But there are another million things to worry about so it’s not like I can spend a lot of time on it. I mean, not spending a lot of time obsessing about not having a name, not spending a lot of time actually picking one.

So we’re getting the house ready. I’m looking my office so we’re converting the garage. We’re having problems with the contractor but that’s another blog. Also in the garage is all the baby stuff put away for the next one. Yes, “The Next One” is now the official placeholder name for the baby.

So we looked at the crib to make sure it looked OK for round two. We hoped The Next One would like it. Then my wife said, “I have to find the screws.” Fine. She originally had taken them from me “to put in a safe place” so if and when this day would come she could find them with no trouble. Cut to:

“I can’t find the screws.”
“I thought you put them in a safe place.”
“I did.”
“I guess they’re really safe then.”
Never rile up a pregnant woman. Lesson 3,678. She then proceeded to tear the house apart looking for the screws. No luck.

After hours of searching my wife actually said, “I can’t find the screws. My Mom is going to kill me.” I thought I had heard her wrong. “Did you just say your mom is going to kill you for losing the screws to the crib?”
“Yes, she helped pay for it and if we have to buy a new one she’ll torture me about it.”
“You have your own house, you’re almost 40, and your Mom is 3,000 miles away,” I calmly pointed out, “Plus, your sister is finally getting married this year and has started to plan the wedding. That puts the target on her back for a while.”

OK, so it would suck if we had to buy a new crib. But I wasn’t worried. I would just call the manufacturer on Monday and order replacement screws or take the parts list and replace the screws myself at a hardware store. None of those arguments work on an upset pregnant woman.

Sadly, my mother-in-law still had the power to upset my wife no matter how far away or how trivial the item. I thought it was getting better with time and distance, but no dice. It’s like that bond between Penny and Desmond from “Lost”, except in a bad way. I just wanted to hide in “The Hatch”.

Then crisis number two hit. A friend of mine e-mailed me and said the cart on my new web venture wasn’t working. www.comedyfilmnerdsdotcom.com in case you were wondering. So now I break out into a cold sweat and try to see what is going on, call my partner, who was surfing (not web surfing, actual surfing), and in the background hear my wife run around like a large round Tasmanian Devil as she looks for crib screws.

As this was all going on our three year old daughter fell asleep on the couch without a pull-up on. She’s potty trained, just not when she sleeps.
“Did you at least put a towel under her?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I SHOULD have asked “Did you put a towel under the part where the pee comes out?”

So my wife was in the garage still looking for screws. I was on the computer, tearing at my hair, trying to figure out why the cart wasn’t working.

Our daughter was asleep on the couch. Or so we thought. Audge had given up on the garage and came back inside. But Bella wasn’t on the couch. She came in the office looking for her. I told her she wasn’t here. It’s not like we have a big house. It doesn’t take that long to search it. That is, if you’re not obsessed with tiny IKEA-like crib screws. Audge looked for Bella and found her in our bedroom.

Bella had woken up disoriented and peed on the couch, around the towel. She then got up, walked to our bedroom and then got on our bed. She then finished emptying her bladder in the middle of our bed. She had picked the two worst places to have an accident. It was like strategic, surgical peeing. Since my wife wasn’t even in the house, she missed both payloads.

Why our daughter felt she had to mark her territory like an angry coyote we have no idea. I just don’t know where she got so much pee. It was almost as if she had invited the neighbor’s kid in to do some of the peeing for her.

Eventually both problems got resolved. Audge found the screws and I fixed the website. But now there was a lot of cleanup, laundry and scrubbing to be done. Thank God! We were getting so bored during our nice relaxing Sunday.

So what did we learn? Because my wife, at 39, was afraid of her mom finding out she lost the screws to the crib and because the cart on my website wasn’t working we now have pee all over the house. If there is a lesson here, I’m not really sure what it is. All I know is that it somehow involves toddler urine, the internet, and guilt. This will be a good story to tell The Next One.