Pacify Me, Part Deux
...so where was I? Oh yes, fatherhood ( I'm not gangsta enough to call it Father Hood like Mr. Dogg). Did I mention that those books don't say a damn thing about being a dad? And when they do, it's to tell you that you have a laundry list of things you really should already have been doing but clearly haven't, so by the way, you're not a good parent. "But I'm not even a parent yet!" you may protest, but the books' clear, black-on-white text just stares back at you.
Pacify Me, on the other hand, gives you a good old-fashioned buddy heads-up. Here's a beer: muscle relaxant. It's going to feel a bit like your molecules have been shifted through space; you'll get through it. Now, Have some peanuts. Ready?
Ready....maybe just one more pint?
Throughout the book, Chris touches on the twists and turns that make it tricky to take on that Dad title, like how everyone has advice for you which you must find a nice way to blatantly ignore; how your social life will change (though not totally evaporate, unless you want it to); how to handle the fact that your wife has become at least one, but possibly two or three different people; what to do when your baby screams at you ( hungry? diaper? just crabby? accidentally saw "Daisy of Love"? ); how many things people will try to sell you in order to make you a better parent (answer: how many will you buy?); how much easier it is to *actually* play with your kids than it is to *imagine* playing with them beforehand; how your kids are the best captive audience you'll ever have...
I really, really wish I'd had this book when I became a dad. I would have laughed a lot more, and laughing at yourself trying to raise kids is probably the healthiest, most effective solution of all.
So, whether you're a new dad or an old one, you'll find a good laugh and lots of comfort in Pacify Me. Pick it up at the publisher's site or at Amazon. They even have a Kindle version.
Pacify Me, part 1
Becky got this anonymous-looking Manila envelope in the mail a while back. It put me in a bit of a quandary: opening someone else's mail is a federal offense, y'know, but what if it were blackmail photos? My secret life as an undercover agent for S.H.I.E.L.D. could be over before of really got started, and I just wouldn't stand for that.
So I popped it open* to find a single sheet of paper: a ransom note! It said, "Becky, here's that copy of my book you said you wanted to read. Enjoy!" And then, underneath it, a top-secret new device for subtle influence of people! A....what was it called? A B-O-O-K. I was hoping for a Melt-O-Mind 3000, but this'll do, I suppose.
And then I realized I wasn't the only man in her life. She had other male friends. Heartbreaking. And this man had children, too. And he wrote about being a Dad, and how it scared the hell out of him at first. Kinda like me! Wait a second, I needed to read this book -- no guys out there had the balls to write about something so gentle and scary as being a new Dad --feeling worried about fatherhood was for girls, right?
...uh, right?
Well, the truth is, we guys have just as much, if not more, anxiety about what it'll be like to have a kid of our own, and the "what to expect" books give us a footnote: Don't worry if your husband is quietly freaking the f*** out; this is normal and will pass soon. We hope. Now, on to lactation!...
So I did what any dad who never had such a book would do: I snitched it and started reading it on my commute.
...to be continued...
* actually, Becky had already opened it, but that little fact just sucks storytelling-wise, so we'll just keep it in our back pockets, shall we? Shhhhh.
