brood

It is hard to ask for help, isn’t it? Why is it that when you have kids, you want everything to seem perfect. Oh, my baby is sleeping through the night. My baby is the perfect angel. My baby is never fussy. This is the most rewarding job in the world. Okay. In the words of Dr. Phil (which I actually enjoy these days), let’s get real.

One thing is, indeed, true. This is the hardest job one will ever do. It is all-consuming, thankless work. And in this society, parents are all alone to figure it all out. Sure, there are a million books out there and folks who LOVE to “should” all over you, but ultimately it is just you, your partner, and the baby.

Well, I want my village! What happened to my perfect vision of having my friends and family around me helping all the time? Why is it so hard to ask them for what we need? My expectations were so high, it is hard not to be disappointed. Can’t people just know what we need and do it? Would I be there for them and their new baby? Probably not. We are all so busy in our own little worlds, the big picture has turned into a tiny little speck of dust on the floor that really needs to be swept.

his name is levi james
when it comes to breast milk…
he plays no games
someday he may swim the Thames
(pretend its 1520 when that estuary was clean)
everyone will remember those two names
he’s our little levi james
if he had his own car…
would it have painted flames?
these are questions pappy frames

making up songs for your baby is just about the most gratifying of all activities. it brings me great joy. it seems important that i ingratiate myself with our boy as to maintain my influence. perhaps that is just a cynical way of saying, that it is a way of bonding. with a baby is a young as wee levi your only going to get a very small range of reactions to anything you do. that is not to diminish the wonder and joy his smiles, coos, crys, and gestures are… they are truly irreducible beauty as ladyjoanna puts it nicely her last blog entry. this particular time in levi’s life is probably like any other – beautiful and precious, if a bit spirited and challenging. but with that small range, i find myself as a parent wondering how much is understood about the songs, music, talking, rocking, playing, walking, strolling, holding, etc and how much will be taken away from these parenting activities. as one author of a certain parenting book says about talking to your baby (particularly always making the baby aware of what you are going to do next, .e.g. now i need to lift up your bum so i can put on this diaper……) … paraphrasing…. no one can prove that the child can’t understand you, and if someday someone proves they can, you’ll regret not talking to your baby like you would anyone else.

that said, parenting is a truly remarkable and engulfing experience. tonight, i’ve been having a good night with baby levi. he’s sleeping so sound in the sling while i type. i didn’t spend any time worrying about how he doesn’t sleep well on his own and he needs this sling, nor did i get excited when he seemed to start to wake up about an hour ago. i just took everything very slowly and let him work himself back into a calm sleep. i suppose it helps a great deal that he is tired from crying for a full hour before jody left on her night out with her employees. yeah, that probably helped a lot; the little guy is pooped.

so am i for that matter. 9:30pm is approachign fast, and around here that is known as pappy’s bedtime. i never thought that would happen. i tried for years to get on a early schedule, and under my own volition, i could never do it. i really have no idea why. i like the mornings. i even see the sun rise on our morning stroll.

unil next time
pappyman

I love your eyelids when you sleep, the sound you make when you eat, your big smiles, how you suck your lower lip in when your tired, your sweet fingers wrapped around mine, your funny hairline, your beautiful and soulful eyes, your big, cold feet, the dirt under your tiny fingernails, your big cheeks, your toothless mouth, your Lindsey chin and Haller lips, the back of your neck, your mullet, the color of your hair, your big juicy thighs…

I know there’s more. I just adore you more than I can say.

I’m going a bit stir-crazy these days. I’m in the house so much and all I can do is hold Levi. The cat hair is piling up, there are dishes in the sink, the slip cover is slipping, there is a load of laundry calling my name, and Levi is crying during As the World Turns. The nerve.

I’ll make this short, like everything I do that isn’t related to the little angel. I had no idea there were so many books on how to get your baby to sleep the “right” way. It seems like mothers I talk to give me a list of things to come instead of talking about the joy of the moment. We have jaundice then colic then sleep issues then teething then crawling then sleep issues again then more mobility (which is the end of freedom according to some mamas) then walking then talking back then eating then the teenage years. It seems so easy to forget all of the sweet, sweet moments in between. I can’t believe that our 11 week-old baby boy has a sleep disorder. I’m thinking that the authors of these books have made millions by claiming they can get your child to sleep through the night. Why is it that nobody I know has a child that has a “regular” sleep pattern? I don’t buy it. I did buy the books, though. I’m learning my lessons. Slowly, but surely.