Birthday Season is upon the Lindquists

So it's birthday season for the Lindquists. 

And if you haven't heard (which would be a little surprising) we've added a third birthday along side Faith (June) and Gabby (May). Calvin Robert Lindquist was born on April 23rd at 10:45pm. He was the largest of the three, coming in at a staunch 7lbs 12oz and 19.5" long. 

And that's where I come in (wait, actually about 9ish months ago, but that's another story). It's time for my post-baby post. 

What an amazing experience this was. Now, I realize all three were unique and have their own crescendos to them, but this was fast (in the perspective of labor) and furious (in terms of the movie). And while I "helped" with the girls, this was different. I won't go into details, but I was so overwhelmed with what I saw I was crying with joy. 

The girls instantly fell in love with him. 

Everything went well, and we are in the throes of the first few days with a newborn (so hopefully this as coherent as sleeping pizza). But even better, we are a family of five, and with four birthdays in three months (plus our 10-year anniversary this June 2nd) we have an exciting few months just starting, and I'm glad I get to live it and love it with the family I have. 

Here are a few photos from the first moments of Calvin's life. 

Our first photo together.

Two hours after birth, Cal is weighed.

A quick bonding moment for me and the boy.

Here, I believe, I'm imparting some great wisdom... or he tooted.

Definitely a toot.

He looks like A)mom B)dad C)Faith D)Gabby E)all of the above

A very proud big(gest) sister.

A very proud big(ger) sister.

The men of the house doing what they do best. I swear I was awake for this, right?

And finally, the name. I bet you're wondering how we got to Calvin. Well, it just so happened to be on both of our lists, and we loved it. I think our "top five" was something like: Calvin, Clark, Leo, Hudson, Theo. But, I'm going to let you in on a little secret on one of my reasons I liked it: 

"Cal L."

- "Rob L."

Daddies Do It Different

The title of this post is the title of the book I bought Rob for Father's Day.

An excerpt:

At bedtime, Mommy dims the light, dresses me in a clean pair of jammies, and we never forget to brush my teeth.


But daddies do it different. With a thousand kooky voices, Daddy reads me silly stories, we jump like kangaroos, and he tickles me so much, I get crazy-hyper nuts.

It goes on to describe the differences between how mommies and daddies do things like breakfast, bath times and other routines. It is somewhat stereotypical, with mom being the responsible/boring one and dad being the irresponsible/fun one.

Faith's Dad: the fun one.

However, most of the situations couldn't be more true for how our family operates. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

When Faith was first born, I read something on Babycenter to the effect of "you may want to kill your DH (dear hubby) shortly after the baby is born." I remember thinking how ludicrous that seemed. Rob was so helpful, keeping track of my medications, getting up with me in the wee hours of the morning, running errands, etc. How could I ever even get mad at him, let alone want to kill him? Well, just like with household chores, sometimes you feel an imbalance when caring for a kid, even if there isn't one. It took a few months, but I got to the point where I felt like he wasn't shouldering his share of the load or just wasn't doing "it" right. That kinda makes me sound mean, but I think most moms will know what I'm talking about here. For example, the first bath Rob gave Faith, he dabbed some water on a washcloth and not so gently wiped Faith three times before calling it good. My mom and I just looked at each other like "What was that?"

Well, daddies do it different (differently to be grammatically correct). And that's OK. Because sometime after that bath, my mom and I decided to take a walk with Howie. When we got back Rob told us he gave Faith a tour of the house. Who would've thought to give a 4-day-old baby a tour of the house? Her dad.

He may not comb her hair like I would. Exhibit A.

Or dress her like I would when playing in the snow. (Those are pajama pants.)

Or play with her like I would. Yes, that's a worm. Ewwww.

But that's because he's not supposed to. Faith doesn't need two me's. She needs her mom and she needs her daddy. Our differences are what make us great parents.

If it weren't for her dad, Faith wouldn't get to enjoy weekly trips to the grocery store/Target, where her dad lets her push the cart and play with the pianos in the electronics department.

She wouldn't get to enjoy weekday morning trips to the zoo, where her dad teaches her how to "find Nemo" and appreciate all God's creatures.

Because Daddies do it different(ly). And that's OK with me. It's more than OK. It's perfect.

Happy Father's Day!

On this Father's Day I am a lucky guy. See, I'm typing this early because I don't know how much time I'll actually be home on Father's Day (Sunday).  I know, but I'm not an ass. In fact, I think of this (and I hope Nicole does too) as a little Father's Day present. ISU Guys Golf Weekend is this weekend; kind of like the US Open, except one group has talent. The plan is to get home early afternoon, to quickly turn around and go to a College World Series game with Nicole's dad, John (thanks Jocelyn for the tickets!).

Now, first and foremost, I am a truly lucky man. If you know me at all, you know that I feel this every day. With everything I've been able to do and accomplish, nothing is as important and meaningful to me as starting my family with Nicole. We have had Father's Day celebrations in the past (yes, Howie got me a card), but this one is THE ONE. I have my own beautiful, wonderful, gorgeous little girl. *If you didn't know this, shame on you - I only talk about her every moment I get.

It's been almost a year (literally) that she came into this world, and my life has changed awesomely. I am a summer stay-at-home Dad. It's probably the most demanding job I've ever held, and I love it. And because of this, Faith has become a Daddy's Girl (which I also love). We have learned a lot in just the couple of weeks I've been home with her... in fact she can take two steps now before lunging for my arms. *Because I'm doing this on the Mac I have at home, I have no photos or videos. I know... bad blogger.

We have a routine, we have patterns, and we know when it's time to just let her be (in the playpen, with my eyes on her of course). Becoming a father is an amazing thing. So to all of the fresh-out-of-the-box dads, and the fathers that have been at it a while, this Bud's for you... wait, wrong blog.

Happy Father's Day!

~Rob

The Immaculate Receptacle

Yes, I'm talking about the Diaper Genie II we have. A whole blog post to talk about a poop holder? In essence, again, yes. If you're not a parent, then you probably aren't sure what a Diaper Genie is, but you've probably inferred by now.

Beep beep beep: this just in. Diapers are stink. Not stinky; they are the definition of putrid and where the smell that gets in your throat comes from.  I have been blessed with a beautiful family and new baby girl (obviously mother's looks).  But damn. She's only eating/drinking milk! And if it wasn't for that little white container that seals the lid from the flames of seedy nostril poison, this would be tough.

Nicole and I have a bit of a routine, and it works out pretty well. At night we take turns getting up and feeding/changing Faith (except last night I cheated and got five consecutive hours of sleep - amazing I know). Not only do we have to run downstairs to the aforementioned receptacle in the middle of the night, but by the time we make it back upstairs, Faith has blessed us again.

I think I have this down (non-parents beware): first she poops, smiles, and fusses. Then, we head to the changing table. I let her sit for a couple of minutes, because sometimes she surprises us. Next, I change her and place the A-bomb in the container (which should have a toxic symbol-logo-thing on it) and turn back just in time to see more fun. I change her again, cleaning the changing table appropriately. *Quick side-note: this is totally the story I will tell at her wedding in 30 years :-)

Wouldn't you know it - I had to pause here for a diaper.

To finish my (already long) story: it's not uncommon for Nicole and I to go through three diapers in one changing. And because of this, we have learned to let her sit for a solid (pun somewhat intended) five minutes (and no it's not mean or wrong) after she smiles coyly waiting for her moment to squirm.

Baby and Mom are doing great. Pictures are still flowing on Facebook, and Dad is slowing learning the intricacies that is the bull-ride of parenting. I mean, come on, you only get eight seconds or you're in a lot of sh*t.


~Rob

my baby daddy

so i just watched yet another episode of a baby story...it was a tearjerker as usual. the mother to be talked about how as a little girl you dream about the man you will marry who will become the father of your children and how now that moment is here for her. it made me cry because i know exactly what she means. i feel so blessed to have found the perfect husband for me and a man i know will be a great dad! why do i know he will be a great dad? good question...while i've never seen him change a diaper or burp a baby, i've seen firsthand how he cares for things that are important to him, whether it be a pregnant wife, a sick dog, his tulips (don't make fun) and sadly, his golf clubs. ;) i have no doubt in my mind how much he will love and care for our baby girl. it makes my heart smile to picture him holding her. i couldn't be happier with where we are in life right now and i know he feels the same way. it feels good to be bringing a baby into this world with the love of my life and i just want everyone i know to know it :)