I’m the dad that used to be just a guy and decided to write a blog about it. I did real good there for a while too. I was posting a bunch, people were reading a bunch. I wrote more, people gave more positive feedback. It’s like I was a real writer. Then life said, “Hey! Here’s more stuff.” And I was like, “I’ll write a new post tomorrow.” Then tomorrow turned into the next day, and then the next day, and so on and so on. This happened for roughly three months. So real quick, sorry for the three-month layoff. New job + new baby = no posts.
But that ends now and so, after much pressure from my readers who made themselves very vocal recently and laid guilt trips on me about neglecting Vinny by not writing about him, here we go…for real this time…honestly…really…I know I said that before baby, but I mean it this time…I’ve changed, I promise…I’ll never treat you like that again…you know that’s not me when I get like that.
OK. Vinny. In short, he’s big. Came out 9 pounds, 5 ounces. Michelle had a C-section with him due to her needing one to deliver Ava. When the delivering doctor went to take him out, she needed to stand on a stole to get extra leverage to lift him out. I’ll never forget her words when she finally hoisted him out, “He looks like a one month old baby!”
Born April 26th, today Vinny is exactly two months old. He is over 13 pounds and is long. Michelle is currently dressing him in six month clothing. Now, he isn’t rotund. He’s more just solid, very dense for sure. Durable. I feel I can drop him a few times without doing any real damage. The jump in clothing size is due mainly to his length. Vinny never had that ‘Caution: tiny baby, easily breakable’ feel to him. From day one he was a tank.
With Vinny, I got exactly what I wanted. I got the same thing as I got with Ava. A beautiful, healthy baby. I get annoyed when people say, “You got your boy, I bet you’re happy.” Fact is I always just prayed for a healthy child. That’s it. That was my one request to God. I mean, I can fulfill my life’s missed accomplishments through Ava just as much as I can Vinny. Easy.
However, there was one part of me that was hoping for a boy. That part was my dad. As the only Viola boy, it was up to me to keep the name going for another generation. My uncle only had girls. I was pretty much the last of the male Viola’s in my family, not counting some random distant relative who I have no idea even exists. I was like The Last of the Mohicans. So at the reveal cake cutting, when that cake turned out to be blue inside, my father gave a big sigh of relief. I was relieved as well, but instead of a sigh, something else came out. I believe I said so eloquently, “My d$%k made another d#%k!” A true poet.
I’m sorry I have no exciting story about the trip to the hospital like I do with Ava’s birth. Since Michelle had a scheduled C-section, it was pretty routine (easy for me to say). No fumbling around looking for my shoes. No forgetting to grab bags. No rushing. No nothing. The only odd moment came when they saw on Michelle’s medical history that she was prescribed a certain medicine when she developed an odd rash early in her pregnancy. It was the same type of medicine they prescribe for someone with herpes. So when they asked her if she ever had any STDs, she answered “No”. Then they came back, took me out of the room, and asked her again, because obviously she was lying and didn’t want to say anything in front of me and let me know she cheated on me and got herpes. Serves her right. The sad part is they probably did that because that scenario probably happens a lot.
Anyway, the stay in the hospital was great. The doctors and nurses were the best. Michelle had a little bit of an easier recovery (yet again, easy for me to say). I had to sleep on a recliner…I’ve slept on worse. Michelle ordered chicken fingers for every meal, apparently they received 4 out of 5 clucks on her chicken finger meter. I only left her side once in order to go to a Penguins game, but I left after the second period because I’m a loving father and husband dammit! It was the least I could do. “Okay honey, I’m off to the game with the guys. If you need anything just page a nurse, that’s what their there for. Let me know if Vinny does anything cute, but only call in between periods. I don’t want to seem rude and be on the phone during game play. Oh, and if you get lonely or bored, here’s a book to read. Yeah, it’s the phone book, but that’s all I can find. Okay? Great! See ya!”
And now the pictures (and feel free to share this blog with friends)….