Father’s Day has come and gone again with one key difference – me being a father this time through. Sullivan’s mommy got us a bag of toys and we made some cool space-robot-looking hats and I got to hang out with my dad and grandfather at lunch. All in all it’s a fine little made up holiday (that happens to fall on a weekend you notice; let’s not give the dads an extra day off, mind you.)

It occurs to me I have no recollection of anything I ever gave my father for Father’s Day when I was growing up. I do remember the fact that he always turned the holiday around for my brother and me. He gave US gifts. Nothing big, just puzzles or a little book or something, but it was his reasoning that without us then he wouldn’t even have had the chance to be a Father so he celebrated us as much as we might celebrate him.

And now that I’m a father, I get it. My dad was using Father’s Day to celebrate all he had learned by being a dad. Everything that life throws at you, everything you think you know, everything that comes and goes and is a part of you forever even though it was just the tiniest moment at the time … that’s all father’s day. That’s what you get for being a dad. There’s the happy times and the fussy times and there’s great joy and sadness and everything in-between.

I can’t remember anything I did for my dad on Father’s Day. Don’t remember any ties or socks or wallets or even handmade macaroni pictures though I feel certain there must have been some. Perhaps we made him a card or bought something from Target or even took him to lunch (that he probably paid for.) It’s pretty much the story of life. What my brother and I gave my dad every father’s day was the chance to remember what a long, strange, wonderful trip it had been and how much more there was yet to experience.

I get that now. At least, I get the beginnings of it. I figure the rest comes as you go.

Incidentally, there are many new pictures in the gallery. Visit from the Leberknight Grandparents, Father’s Day photos, and much more!

So, looks like the phase one gas has … passed … shall we say? That’s well and good since it returns mommy to only a couple (maybe three) night feedings and much less cranky-ness which she appreciates. We all do, really.

Of course, now he’s transitioned into the “hour-long leisurely dining experience” phase which include stretch breaks, looking around, generally relaxing while mommy waits for the multi-course experience to resume.

We’re also starting to get some unique cries for different needs which is fun to hear. The all-frown wail of general frustration (which typically leads to “baby chicken” cluck-cry if it goes too far,) the stretch, grunt, and squeak of hunger, and the new single-blast cry of bodily function (gas, diaper change, etc.) That’s my favorite so far. The baby equivalent of a husky teamster “Yo!”

Now Sullivan’s mommy will disagree with me. “Agreeableness” is often subjective and baby Sullivan has been less than pleased with his level of life service lately. The gas pains come in waves so we don’t get the constant screaming, but it’s turned him into the “little man who doesn’t know what he wants.”

Eat a little, no not good enough. Hiccoughs wake me up. Frustrating. Now maybe I’m hungry? Nope, just wet diaper. Nope, just gas. Nope, I am hungry. Very hungry. Nope spit up all that food. Why would you give me all that? No, maybe mommy should just hold me all night? Yes, that would be great, thanks.

He’s very frustrated with the whole deal so far.

I can only say, calm down little fellow, it only gets more intense from here. I mean “life.” Hopefully not the gas pains …

But thankfully we have still been blessed with a relatively agreeable baby. Poor little guy has been gurgling in the nethers for the past couple of days (which does make one cranky and tends to keep mommy up nights) but he’s been remarkably passive about the whole affair except for the occasional outburst.

Everyone came by this morning to celebrate Ella’s second birthday ever and Sullivan got to meet his great-grandparents for the first time (pics in the gallery.)

Update: I’m learning a new skill: the one handed type. Hold baby in one arm and type updates with the other. Seems all right so far until I need access to complex words or anything left of the letter “g” … Shift key is none too convenient either …