notes from two weeks of parenthood
If I had to describe my son in one word, it would be ravenous. He eats like a wild animal that has gone without food for weeks. As such, he often gags or chokes when eating, sending him into hysterics. This is a fun process for Julia to repeat every 2 -3 hrs. When trying to latch onto a breast or take a pacifier or bottle, he does so with the same violent, spastic head jerking that people in the movie 28 Days Later did while turning into zombies.
His coordination and ability to make eye contact are very advanced for his age, making it easy to forget how young he really is – it often seems he should know better than to do some of the things he does. He also has a strong, frantic grip. Often, just after having been given his pacifier, he will reach up with both hands, yank it out of his mouth and begin crying hysterically. My numerous explanations of cause and effect are yet to take.
Like many babies, motion puts him right to sleep. The second he’s on the go in the baby carrier or sling, he’s out cold. This works fine during the day, but at night I’m forced to speed walk around the apartment, narrowly missing furniture until he relaxes enough for us to move to the rocking chair (phase 2). Between the creaking floors at 3AM and the constant crying, I can’t imagine how much our downstairs neighbor must hate us. I don’t know what the guy’s previous future family plans were (he’s a bachelor and successful photographer), but it’s safe to say they’ve been extended by at least five years.
Yesterday, out of the corner of my eye I noticed what appeared to be food on my hand (which was holding up my head). Just before licking it off, I realized that it was, in fact, baby poop. It may sound odd, but I actually enjoy changing diapers – it’s one of the few predictable and easily dealt with aspects of baby care, and a welcome alternative to the constant guessing game (Why is he crying? Is he hungry? Did you feed him enough? Did you burp him? For how long? Did he burp? How many times? Is he cold? Is he hot? Should I take his temperature? Can he breathe in that position? Why is he crying?).
Even though he can’t do much yet, he constantly amuses us. His propensity to poop immediately after being changed, the way he grabs baby fistfuls of my chest hair (and almost rips it out), and the whole rabid-dog sucking thing are endless sources of amusement. At times Julia has begged me to stop cracking jokes or imitating him, since laughter can be quite painful, post C-section.
We are still finding our collective rhythm, while trying our best to be patient. Julia, in particular, has had a hard time accepting the fact that sometimes there is no “why” with a baby (some of their actions lack reason) and as she is prone to do, has been quite hard on herself. I try to assure her that there are no perfect first-time parents, and that every decision or incident should be seen not as right or wrong, but rather an opportunity to learn. Cause and effect, cause and effect.
His coordination and ability to make eye contact are very advanced for his age, making it easy to forget how young he really is – it often seems he should know better than to do some of the things he does. He also has a strong, frantic grip. Often, just after having been given his pacifier, he will reach up with both hands, yank it out of his mouth and begin crying hysterically. My numerous explanations of cause and effect are yet to take.
Like many babies, motion puts him right to sleep. The second he’s on the go in the baby carrier or sling, he’s out cold. This works fine during the day, but at night I’m forced to speed walk around the apartment, narrowly missing furniture until he relaxes enough for us to move to the rocking chair (phase 2). Between the creaking floors at 3AM and the constant crying, I can’t imagine how much our downstairs neighbor must hate us. I don’t know what the guy’s previous future family plans were (he’s a bachelor and successful photographer), but it’s safe to say they’ve been extended by at least five years.
Yesterday, out of the corner of my eye I noticed what appeared to be food on my hand (which was holding up my head). Just before licking it off, I realized that it was, in fact, baby poop. It may sound odd, but I actually enjoy changing diapers – it’s one of the few predictable and easily dealt with aspects of baby care, and a welcome alternative to the constant guessing game (Why is he crying? Is he hungry? Did you feed him enough? Did you burp him? For how long? Did he burp? How many times? Is he cold? Is he hot? Should I take his temperature? Can he breathe in that position? Why is he crying?).
Even though he can’t do much yet, he constantly amuses us. His propensity to poop immediately after being changed, the way he grabs baby fistfuls of my chest hair (and almost rips it out), and the whole rabid-dog sucking thing are endless sources of amusement. At times Julia has begged me to stop cracking jokes or imitating him, since laughter can be quite painful, post C-section.
We are still finding our collective rhythm, while trying our best to be patient. Julia, in particular, has had a hard time accepting the fact that sometimes there is no “why” with a baby (some of their actions lack reason) and as she is prone to do, has been quite hard on herself. I try to assure her that there are no perfect first-time parents, and that every decision or incident should be seen not as right or wrong, but rather an opportunity to learn. Cause and effect, cause and effect.
posted by Justin at 1:05 PM
2 Comments:
" Just before licking it off, I realized that it was, in fact, baby poop."
You don't wash your hands between diaper changes?
First children survive in spite of their parents, not because of them.
Hey now, after ten diaper changes (and handwashes) a day, anyone's prone to miss a spot. I'll throw down with any first time dad.
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