smonk you: the best freaking daddy blog ever

He giggled more than I have ever seen before when he saw him...I'm talking about my grandfather. Miloh laughed too. A few weekends ago we went back to my hometown and our first stop was to see my grandfather, we'll call him Poppie for now on because that's what he's called. My mother asked me not to mention that she started crying before we even opened the door to his place*...so I won't do that. I'll skip right to when we opened the door to his place. Poppie laughed so hard. Then he went right up to Miloh in the stroller, where he was asleep, and leaned in to get a good look...but he was careful not to wake him. We chatted a bit and asked Poppie if he wanted us to wake Miloh so he could hold him, he said no...he didn't want to disturb Miloh. Not a minute later he said that now he was ready to hold Miloh. It was fantastic...my grandfather was elated, I think he teared up a bit...weird thing is Miloh teared up for a second too. Then Miloh smiled when P...

I decided to write this birth story from my point of view since most of the ones you read are obviously from moms. So since I'm doing it this way I should just make a point to say Staci is amazing. Her strength blew me away. I guess it all started the Tuesday before when Staci was at the doctor. The baby (we didn't know who it was yet) was a good size and pretty well cooked since it was only one week before the due date. There was some worry that because of Staci's gestational diabetes the baby would be to big for regular birth (I don't want to say the V word since it's not mine I'd be talking about...not that I have one...this is getting awkward) So the doctor wanted to induce. The date was set and we'd head to the hospital Thursday the 21st. On Wednesday her contractions began. Before that she'd have some on and off but these we definitely different. Nothing frequent enough so we waited until our scheduled appointment. Thursday morning came alon...

The Friend : Early this week we went to a good friend's house, she has 2 kids, 19 and 16. Staci told her we were thinking of taking a birth class. I've heard a bunch of things about these classes...it's mostly that they are a waste of time . Our friend agreed the class is a waste...here is some of the wisdom she gave us. On burping the baby: you don't really need to do it like you did before...the new bottles make it less necessary...you know what you're doing with that, you don't need to learn. On bathing the baby: you put the baby in the cute whale tub...the baby hates the cold water...you fight the babies squirming and it comes out clean. On labor: Kenny will tell you to breathe...you say shut the fuck up...and then you have the baby. And that realistic outlook and sarcasm is why she's our friend... The Old Man: This weekend we went to my hometown and got to spend time with my family. My grandfather (96) was so excited to see Staci pregna...

When we started thinking about having kids Staci and I had all the discussions about names. I was thinking that if we have a boy we'd name it after one of the greatest actors of our time, French Stewart. The reason I like French as a first name is that telemarketers and the like mispronounce Friedman and say it like it's spelled Fried-man instead of the real pronunciation Freed-man. Crazy Hungarians are to blame for the odd spelling but I think it's common knowledge that that's how you pronounce it. So the kid would be called French Fried-man...but some folks thought that would be cruel...and Monkey was rejected as a girls name. But Staci had the idea to use her grandmother (Minnie) and great aunt's (Hilda...although she went by Auntie...pictured above) initials as the first and last letter in a name. That's because whether it was to slip some cash in each pocket or to give her a little tap when she was saying things she shouldn't they were always at her sid...

I'm sure he wouldn't be thrilled that I titled a post like that but it's true. He was giggling because he was so excited that his name, Friedman, would be passed to another generation. It wasn't a given because I was born with a different last name...well technically like all people I was born without any name, but you get the point. Anyway my grandfather, Eddie, had 2 daughters so his surname ended there. But I was never really a fan of my father. So after college I changed my last name to Friedman to thank him for helping me pay for college (wasn't talking to my father but he wouldn't have given me a dime had I been) and to help him carry out his name. So this 96 year-old man is as happy as he could be to see another generation and especially another Friedman on it's way. And last...I have a feeling this post is going to bite me on the ass...my father doesn't know I changed my name (about 15 years ago) but I heard he was searching for me via the web......

Staci sleeping on the plane to Vancouver/Whistler on our honeymoon five years ago. It took a couple of years for our families (read Jewish Mothers) to ask (read nag us) when we'd have kids. From day one Staci and I pretty much agreed on waiting 5 years. Our moms wanted little Friedmans sooner. They 'allowed' us to wait but there was some discussion on whether 5 years meant we'd start in 5 or have a kid not more than 1826 days days after getting married. We were going with starting in 5 years...and wel, our 5th year anniversary plans, which involved a trip to a winery, had to change because Staci was 6 weeks pregnant and not feeling too good. We rocked the 5 year plan perfectly.