Am I the Only One with Sore Nipples?

Cristian's First Piece of Original Artwork. Esther loved it, but I'm going to wait before we think about sending him to art school.
Cristian’s First Piece of Original Artwork. Esther loved it, but I’m going to wait before we think about sending him to art school.

I haven’t spent much time at the keyboard—it’s been a rough summer.  Although I haven’t been writing Cristian’s been growing and developing. I have material for several blog posts—I just need to sit and write them.

At the beginning of the summer Esther and I discussed enrolling Cristian in a Mommy and Me class.  Esther has a background in child development so when she suggested enrolling him in a class, I listened.  We agreed he needed to spend more time playing with kids his age.

Since she works six days a week, Mommy and Me class was another item on my Honey-Do List.  Although the class didn’t intimidate me, I was curious as to how a Mommy and Me Class worked and how I’d fit in.

Ever the artist Cristian explores a new medium, shaving medium.
Ever the artist Cristian explores a new medium, shaving medium.

Here’s what I found:

A Chance to Develop Social Skills – Mommy and Me Class offers a chance to develop social skills while playing with other children.  We wanted something more productive than him watching me yell at the TV during Donald Trump Rallies on CNN.  Our goal was for him to learn childlike behavior not childish behavior.

Dads Go to Mommy and Me Class Too– This was my biggest concern.  Playing nicely with the other children or adapting to the program, were minor details.

I had no idea what was waiting for me.  Would the women go to the ladies room together, like when we go out with friends?  Would I hear the hellish childbirth war stories, about who needed more stitches or had more tearing?  Would it be a group of women in Capri pants sipping wine while the kids played?

Not knowing what to expect I packed a cooler with a six-pack.   I know what some of you are thinking, but it was light beer— I didn’t want to give the wrong impression on the first day.  Image my surprise when there were two other dads were in class—they passed on the cold one I offered them.

Hey Dad, they have the coolest toys here.
Hey Dad, they have the coolest toys here.

You Will Channel Your Parents – Like every parent, I thought, I’d be more laid-back than my parents were—that theory went flying out the window midway through the first class.   Cristian playing with orange play doh right after munching on orange goldfish during snack time had me channeling my Dad big time.  I could imagine the smile on his face as I pried the baby’s mouth open five or six times making sure the only thing he was chomping on were goldfish.

New Routines and Kiddie Songs – Mommy and Me class gave Cristian a chance to model other children’s behavior—he learned sitting still (or as still as twenty-month old could manage) sharing and pretend play with the other kids.  Sure I left class with three or four new kiddie songs stuck in my head for a few days but it was a small price to pay.

Someone Needs a Nap, the Baby Could Use One Too – Cristian loved the class although it usually ran into his nap time.  I could relate, chasing him around class, keeping paint or shaving cream off both of us and making sure he didn’t gobble up another kid’s snack who would have thought he loved veggie straws, was exhausting (See the section on Channeling Your Parents).  Many times we both needed a nap when we got home from class.

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Remembering Dad A Year Later

Dad in mid conversation, probably talking politics.
Dad in mid conversation, probably talking politics.

A year ago today my Dad passed away and I’ve spent the past week with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.  Whether it was driving past the nursing home where he spent his last days on the way to the baby’s My Gym Class or seeing images of him in a slide show at my niece’s Sweet 16 Party last weekend.  Last Friday night’s torrential rain awakened more memories than expected.

I remember a painful conversation with Mom as I drove her home from the nursing home in a heavy rain. I told her the doctor said Dad developed pneumonia, and probably wouldn’t make it through the weekend. That was the best case scenario—the worst case scenario was he wouldn’t make it through the night.  You would have thought a diagnosis of Pancreatic Cancer and three months of doctors and hospitals would have prepared us for this—it didn’t.

When my phone rang at 6am the next morning, Esther and I knew it was bad news.  How many early-morning calls are good news?  I felt numb calling Mom, my brother Bob and various aunts and uncles, informing them of Dad’s passing as I walked Chico.  The conversations were short and quick, the numbness stayed with me a few months.

We spent the weekend after Dad’s passing decluttering Mom’s house, devouring cold cut platters, and reliving memories.  I’ve always been amazed how people achieve saint-like status simply by dying.  I’ve written about my Dad several times he was a good man with many wonderful traits—but he was no saint.  We lightened the mood, spending parts of the weekend reliving stories of our favorite meltdowns or Mom and Dad bickering like George Costanza’s parents on Seinfeld.  Fifty plus years of marriage will do that.

Dad with my Maternal Grandfather in Puerto Rico in 1980
Dad with my Maternal Grandfather in Puerto Rico in 1980

A lot’s changed in the past year, Esther, Cristian and I moved in with Mom to help out with the house and dealing with losing Dad.  Esther and I do much of the former, Cristian handles the latter.  The numbness is gone—it’s been replaced with sadness and regret.

I regret not asking him more about the Spanish side of my family tree, about his dad and his brothers.   I never met them—they all died too young.  I regret being a stubborn child who didn’t pay enough attention when he tried teaching me basic carpentry and household projects.  I regret not thanking him for all he gave me, did for me, and for not saying I love you.

Dad helping pop a champagne cork to celebrate my 14th Birthday.
Dad helping pop a champagne cork to celebrate my 14th Birthday.

These days many people are concerned with their legacy.  Once considered the domain of athletes and politicians it’s now a concern among many average people.  Maybe it’s a product of the age we live in.  I doubt Dad put any thought into his legacy, but he did leave one behind.

To the many carpenters, electricians and other skilled laborers, most from Galicia, the part of Spain he was from, Dad’s legacy was helping them with a well-placed phone call to an employer or union rep finding them a job or a union card shortly after arriving in this country.  To him it was paying forward the kindness extended to him by a friend named Viña many years before.

Before writing this piece I thought about Dad’s legacy.  Was it fulfilling the American Dream?  He arrived in this country in 1956 with little more than the clothes on his back, a few dollars in his pocket, and a trade—he was a skilled carpenter.  Over the next 60 years, he married, raised a family, built a home, saved a few dollars, and gave his children a better life than the one he knew as a child.

Although impressive it’s incomplete.  As a father he taught me more by his actions and examples than his words.  He and Mom were married for 56 years and sure they bickered a bit as they got older—show me an old married couple that doesn’t—but it was his genuine concern for her in his last days that touched me.  He insisted I keep him up to date her latest doctor’s appointments, making sure she was taken care of.

Ever the doting grandfather, he waited 88 years for his elusive grandson.  Seeing his hazel eyes light up whenever I brought Cristian to the nursing home was one of the few bright spots for me during his last days–but there were sad memories too.  I’ll never forget him playing with his nine-month old grandson saying, “You’re beautiful!  What a shame I won’t be able to see you grow up.”

Today we’ll honor Dad’s memory, with a memorial mass for him and Esther’s Mom Maria—she lost her fight with Pancreatic Cancer three years ago this week.  After paying respects at the cemetery, I’m firing up the grill, serving up sardines and other grilled meats along with wine and beer just like Dad would do on any Sunday afternoon in July.  I can’t think of a better way of keeping his memory alive.


Grandpa's Stone

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50 Things I’ve Learned Since Becoming a Father.

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Time has a way of sneaking up on you.  I have a hard time believing I’ve been a parent for over year and a half.  Spending time with friends recently reminded me how much my life’s changed in that time.  I love my son and being a dad, but it’s a lot of work.

This list is a public service to anyone thinking about starting a family.  Take a good look, this is required reading.  I invite any parent to add anything I missed or to share what lies ahead.

    1. Did your better half’s pregnancy hormones make you look forward to your next prostate exam?
    2. Did picking a baby name remind you of Congress trying to agree on immigration reform?
    3. Let’s work on the nursery means she plans layout and design and you move furniture back and forth again, and again, and again.
    4. Did your wife’s friends use possessive terms like our baby?
    5. Did you call them up at 3am because our baby was screaming like a banshee?
    6. Did you carry your newborn son around like Mufasa carrying Simba at the beginning of the Lion King?
    7. Did you show the baby to everyone on the maternity ward, including security guards and the maintenance staff?
    8. Was putting the baby in your father’s arms for the first time the best gift you ever gave him?

      Dad holding Cristian. He was the best gift I could have given him.
      Dad holding Cristian. He was the best gift I could have given him.
    9. Did it take you at least 45 minutes to figure out how to install the car seat correctly?
    10. Did you put the baby’s car seat into the car gently like you were handing a carton of eggs?
    11. Was driving your wife and child home from the hospital the slowest you’ve driven since you took your road test for your driver’s license.
    12. Was your first night home alone with your baby the scariest night of your life?
    13. Did the first few days of childcare make you feel like a sequestered juror on a high-profile trial?
    14. Friends and family will want to see the baby. This isn’t a bad thing.
    15. Remember when friends ask what can I bring, think big. It’s a limited offer so think surf and turf not chicken nuggets.
    16. I’ve spent many a sleepless night wonder at the logic of giving a baby with a well-functioning digestive system prunes.
    17. How long did it take to you to learn, babies will pee on you?
    18. Have the words onesie, boppy and binky become part of your vocabulary?
    19. Do the words Butt Paste make you giggle?
    20. I’m convinced anyone advising sleep when the baby sleeps, never took care of a baby.
    21. Things are easier if you know a good Baby Whisperer
    22. You will be required to take your child on a Baby Tour for the benefit of family members who couldn’t make it to your home.
    23. The dog or cat who was your child before the baby was born will go back to being a dog or cat. Sorry Chico.
    24. Don’t expect to sleep through the night for a few years.
    25. Why are the baby wipes and diapers always at the bottom of the diaper bag?
    26. Few things in life change your mood faster than a diaper blowout.
    27. Are you the only Dad in Mommy and Me class?
    28. Am I the only Dad whose nipples were sore after Mommy and Me class?
    29. Mommy and Me class will make you channel your parents.
    30. Do you wonder who is more annoying Daniel Tiger or Caillou?
    31. Competitive parents suck.
    32. Don’t be too anxious for the baby to start walking. Trust me.
    33. It’s okay to look silly in front of the baby.
    34. Your home will look like the Jersey Shore after Hurricane Sandy.
    35. Does Netflix and Chill mean you actually sit on the couch and watch a movie?
    36. How long did it take you to learn there are no quick trips to pick up anything for the baby?
    37. If you think babies don’t throw tantrums until they are two-years old, I have a surprise for you.
    38. Is getting your toddler to sleep a Darwinian Survival of the Fittest?
    39. Have you thought of putting a Fitbit on your toddler to see how many steps he takes in a day?
    40. Do you compare notes with other parents on the strangest places you’ve found poop and puke?
    41. Do you remember when being awakened at 3am meant you were getting lucky, now you hope the baby rolls over and goes to sleep once you’ve given him a bottle.
    42. Are your iPhone and iPad high-tech pacifiers.
    43. Have you told people, “Don’t let his smile fool you?”
    44. Do you flood social media sites with pictures of your child?
    45. Have your family and friends planned an intervention because of posting too many baby pictures?
    46. Have you chased a twenty-something working in GNC around the store with your screaming child to reinforce the importance of birth control?
    47. Do you think sitting in cramped airplane seat with a screaming toddler in your lap should be used as a fraternity-hazing ritual?
    48. Your child will soon crawl in and out of his crib with ninja-like efficiency.
    49. When you are singing Elmo’s Greatest Hits or humming the Pepa Pig theme, it’s time for a night out.
    50. Everyone is an expert.  You will get lots of unsolicited advice from all sides.  Get used to it.


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Parenting Against the Memories of the Past

My brother showing me how to hold a baby.
My brother showing me the proper way to hold a baby.

A funny thing happened a few weeks ago, Cristian turned 18 months old.  A lot’s changed in a year and a half, I no longer look like a gorilla dragging a baby around the cage.  My better half doesn’t have to stuff the baby bag and leave three complete outfits for the baby—she still does—but doesn’t have to, and it’s been over a year since I looked at the extensive list of care instructions posted in the kitchen.

Cristian’s grown into a hyperactive toddler, kind of like the Tazmanian Devil on Red Bull, and I’ve become a functional Stay at Home Dad.  Getting here was twisty road of diaper blowouts (his not mine), empty bottles (mine not his) and unsolicited advice from just about everyone.

Feeding, bathing and dressing the baby is now part of my daily routine.  I no longer hear It looks like Daddy dressed you today, okay maybe from Esther—geez you forget to fasten the snaps on his onesie a few times.

A year ago, women at Target sniffed out diaper changes, people at the post office suggested he may need a nap, and families at Costco gave me stink eye when I put the baby into the same shopping cart with a few gallons of bleach, a case of motor oil and 10 pounds of seafood.  Imagine if I threw the live lobsters into the cart, like I wanted to.

What are you doing with those lobsters Daddy?
What are you doing with those lobsters Daddy?

The family has gotten better too.  They no longer rush to feed or change the baby when he cries, just when I thought I had them trained.  Watching me take care of him eased their anxiety, or maybe they realized they’ve become material for a post or two.

You think that would be the end of it, of course it isn’t.  Haven’t you been reading this blog?

Having graduated from feedings and diaper changes, Parenting 101, I’ve moved onto the advanced course.  It started with a few subtle hints from the family elders, who am I kidding about subtle.

To give you some background on the family elders, I once overheard them remark about how a new mom still had her baby belly—two days after a grueling 20-hours of labor ending in a C-Section.  To hear them talk they all went straight home from the delivery room and did three loads of laundry.

According to them when they raised us we always ate elaborately-planned home-cooked meals, didn’t fight them at bedtime, and never got dirty.  Oh selective memory is a wonderful thing because I remember being called a bad child, constantly being scolded for getting dirty.

Parenting guidelines and norms changed over the years.  When I was a child, parents barely childproofed their homes, small children rode in the car’s backseat without a child seat or seatbelt, and moms did the heavy lifting regarding childcare.  So I can only imagine their shock at watching us raise our own children.  I don’t need to, I hear it constantly, but that’s okay.  As Cristian keeps growing and hitting developmental milestones, I’m hitting mine as a parent.  I guess it’s a good thing I keep a blog.


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Guest Post – Tips for the Comparing Mom

I’m excited to announce I’m Not Grandpa’s first Guest Post.  Please allow me to introduce my new friend Lisa E Hill, a Child Development Consultant and Blogger.

It’s in our nature as human beings to always be comparing. It’s what we do every day in a myriad of situations and environments, we compare. Technology and the wonderful world of the Internet, has given us the ability to quickly read reviews on products and restaurants, thus comparing.

Is it not assumed that when we become mothers that we will continue to compare? It happens, but it is rarely something we will think about the months leading up to the delivery of our tiny humans. Oh sure, we will compare what breast pump to buy or what stroller to register for. We will compare child care centres and mini vans. But, the unspoken truth is we will compare the development of our babies to our friends babies and the babies we meet along the way. We will enter into the anxiety ridden, Google searching and Doctor calling comparing mom.

How do we get a hold of ourselves and take control over our constant comparing and worrying?



Always remember that comparing is natural. It’s how we weed out the bad and focus on the good. It’s how you ended up with your sports car edition of the mini van.

Comparing Moms - No 1

However, it’s important to get a grip on the amount of time you spend comparing. Although it’s natural, it’s not natural to be completely overwhelmed and focused on comparing. If it starts to affect your ability to be present and involved with your child, you need to stop, take a breath and focus on why you are so worried.


Yes, you are now a mom. You have committed to an entire life of worry. You will worry about tiny things and bigs things.
I’m not telling you not to compare, I’m here to educate you on how to compare especially when it comes to your child’s overall development. You will compare, but if you have a worry then it is valid! It’s called your gut.

As my best friend was getting ready to leave my house the other day, she was talking out her worries that came straight from her continuous comparing. She finally said to me, “I need to just stop comparing!” Yes and no my friend! Comparing is natural yes, but if your worried and you continue to be worried, act on it.


There are developmental check lists available to you online, at your doctors office and various children’s centres. Take the checklists, use them and either ease your mind or call your doctor if you’re still concerned.

Whatever you do, do NOT take a bunch of “symptoms” and plug into the Google search engine! I mean it, do NOT do it! Yes, it’s easily accessible and there are SO many forums with other moms with the same concerns, but every story is different with different outcomes! Unless your googling developmental stages and expectancies, do not Google symptoms!

Education is the key to understanding and fostering your child’s development. Comparing your child’s development to children around you is natural yes, but educate yourself first. No need to get worried if you don’t need to! You have to remember that children grow and develop at varying rates!


Do not keep it all bottled up inside of you, this comparing and worrying business. Talk about it! Talk it out with your partner, your friend (yes even the ones whose child your comparing), your mom, community partners. Heck, talk it out with yourself. You have to take control of your anxiety now before it takes control over you. Talk to your anxiety and hash it out.

Comparing Moms - No 2

The more you talk about your concerns or worries, the more information you will receive. If you have talked about it, read about it and your still concerned, call your doctor. Again, go with your gut. Your still unsettled for a reason!


Do not sit in your house and analyze your child’s development over and over again. Get out and socialize. Go to community drop in’s. Visit a friend. Time and time again I have found many children who are behind in their development will flourish when consistently socialized with other children around the same age.

Getting out and socializing your child also provides them with varying environments to explore and expand on their exploding development. Not to mention it builds relationships for both you and your child!


It’s tough being a mom. No one said it would be easy and who even warned you that you were signing up for a life long sentence of worry?!

The one thing we are all equipped with is this little aching feeling that lies at the pit of our stomach and rears it’s ugly head when something feels wrong. It usually goes hand in hand with that voice in our head that also tells us that something could be wrong.

My point is, after you feel like you’ve talked about it a million times, you’ve Googled it (yes, I know you won’t listen to me and NOT Google it), you’ve provided ample opportunities to socialize and you feel like your fairly educated on it AND your STILL questioning and comparing and worrying… LISTEN TO YOUR GUT!

Remember, you compare because it’s natural, you worry for a reason and you act because you know you have to! Welcome to motherhood!


Lisa E. Hill is a Child Development Consultant who works with families who are struggling with everyday parenting issues and parents of children with Special Needs. Lisa strives to Simplify Impossible Parenting by offering strategies and suggestions, resources and 1:1 support to families worldwide.  You can follow her blog Loud Parent here.
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