Last Sunday, I got to participate in my first Father’s Day since becoming a father, having been blessed with a baby boy last October. I honestly meant to write something when he was born, but for the past seven months, I’ve only been operating at about 20 percent battery. As a comedian with a new baby, people kept saying to me, “Oh, you’re getting so much material from this.” Naturally, I respond, “Why do you think we had him?”

So, here are some thoughts I’ve amassed about parenting and babies thus far (in no particular order because that’s how my life is now):

Hospital

Our baby arrived a few days after my wife’s due date, which isn’t surprising since my wife’s family is always late for things. The day she was due actually, someone contacted me to hire me to perform standup for a singles event they were having two days later. I said that I could do the show, but they should know that my wife was due with a baby any day, and if she went into labor, I’d have to find a backup…and then I’d just tell him what hospital to go to. But I was there for my wife when she had the baby; after all, someone had to order the Uber for her.

The hospital was really great to us, although they kick you out a little too quickly. Something is wrong when you have to take 20 hours of driver’s ed, but after only one video and a boring class about diaper changing, you’re apparently qualified enough to sustain another human being. When we got home from the hospital, I checked my mailbox and somehow there was already a bill for yeshiva tuition.

Sleep

I never realized how important sleep was in my life until it was taken away from me. Before the baby was born, people would tell me things like, “Bank as much sleep as you can,” like it’s a bank account that I could’ve just transferred money from. Sleep might be the only thing you care about more than your new, tiny roommate. During those wee hours of the night when you’re finally able to calm baby down, you put him in the Pack ’n’ Play, hoping that he stays asleep. You slowly crawl back into your bed. You then pick up your pillow, hold it in your arms and softly whisper to it, “I didn’t know it was possible to love anything this much.”

Pesicha

When my wife was in her ninth month of pregnancy, in shul they gave me the honor of pesicha, opening the aron. This is a custom given to husbands of pregnant women. I guess they figure that you can’t really help out too much during the delivery, so you might as well do something. Opening the aron is supposed to be a segulah for an open womb and an easy delivery, which, let’s be honest, of all the segulahs, has got to be the most explicit. We’re an extremely modest people, so I think it’s a bit much when you get up there and the rabbi says, “Make sure the aron’s open at least 10 centimeters.”

Shalom Zachors and Names

Shalom zachors never seemed to make a lot of sense to me. For the woman who gave birth, it’s got to feel insane. Even the pitch seems crazy: “Hey, I know you just went through the most painful experience of your life and you haven’t had more than a few minutes to yourself in the last several days, but how about hosting a bunch of drunk guys at your already messy house?” It’s just one of those Jewish customs that seems over-the-top male-centric, like Simchas Torah or Maariv. Heck, the name of the party is even translated as “Welcoming a male.” The only explanation I can really come up with is that it’s a bunch of guys congratulating another guy that he won’t end up having a teenage daughter.

My son was born with some hair, but then once he had his bris, he started losing his hair. And then my mother-in-law mentioned how much bigger his face and chin were looking. I told my son, “You’ve been circumcised, you’re going bald and relatives are already commenting on your weight: Welcome to the Jewish people!” Before you name your child, you debate with your spouse about names that are good and bad. But you can’t help but project your own biases. “We can’t name him Yitzchak. I had a third-grade classmate named Yitzchak and he used to eat glue.”

Baby Formula

Baby formula is insanely expensive, which just feels unfair. It’s so expensive that you get mad at yourself for spilling any out since your kitchen counter can’t get nutrients from it. Apparently, you only have an hour to use a bottle with formula once the baby has started with it. Since babies often won’t finish their bottles in that time, you inevitably end up dumping out a bunch of the bottle in the sink, as you bemoan your potential vacation fund being used to waste this powdered gold. It must be to prepare you for the amount of food you’ll end up wasting once your kids are older and will just decide randomly they don’t like chicken because they’ve deemed it “gross.” I wouldn’t be surprised if drug dealers started selling it on the side. (*opens jacket*) “Yo, I got the good stuff right here: Similac. After some of this, your baby will sleep through the night.”

By Eli Lebowicz

Eli Lebowicz is a standup comedian and writer. He does comedy for Jewish events all over the country, mostly just to get out of the house at this point. He can be contacted at [email protected].