Ramblings of a New Dad: Five Months and some Jazz

Okay, so I'm a little late on this one. I became the father of a five-month old a week and a few days ago, but I've been jammed at work and I got a new side gig and I've been researching fall-out bunkers because American politics and I stubbed by big left toe and I think the dog is eating something hold on a minute what are you eating? WHAT. ARE. YOU. EATING??? DROP IT!!!!!

 

(Uh, you okay over there?)

 

I'm fine. Just feeling a little overwhelmed. Let's just say that when they say that being a parent adds exponential layers of stress to your life they know what they're saying. Those they are pretty smart. Say hey.

 

(You really need to be medicated.)

 

Trust me, I'm medicated enough. This allergy season has been brutal. That's part of the problem. My little one is just a hair over five-months old, and with each day that passes I continue to pray that my beloved offspring is not hampered with the environmental aversions that plague me on a daily basis. She's at such a vulnerable point in her barely begun life right now, and yeah, I worry, every day, about how outside factors and my cursed genes are going to affect her. Example: the other night someone somewhere in the neighborhood had a bonfire, the reasons for which are beyond me; it was approximately 80 degrees Fahrenheit at the time. It's summer! It's hot! Let's make it hotter! And smelly! And force our neighbors, who don't have air conditioning, to have asthma attacks and make their entire homes smell to the point the have to close all their windows, in 80 degree heat, and wait until morning to air out their private living space.

 

(Wait, you don't have central air???)

 

Lookit here, you. When I bought this house I had pretty much given up on the idea of having a family. The family room stays relatively cool, and I had a window unit for the bedroom. That was just fine for me and the pooch. Now, not so much. And yes, I'm already searching real estate porn, a/k/a zillow.com, for a possible new abode, with central air. And a bigger kitchen. But I digress….

 

Back to the smoke invasion – after the house stinking up, I needed asthma treatments, and my daughter got all kinds of congested. And this papa bear was ready to cut somebody. You mess me with, yeah, I'm gonna get pissed. You mess with my kid, I'm going all Tombstone: You tell 'em I'm comin'. And hell's comin' with me!!!

 

Thankfully, with some saline and a go-round with the NoseFrida, we got her tiny little nasal passages cleaned out, and got her settled, so she was finally able to go to sleep. So yeah, parenting? Stressful.

 

It's also fucking fantastic. And yes I said the f-dash-dash-dash-ing word, because it is that fantastic.

 

Let's just say this – watching your child grow and progress is mind-numbingly, ecstatically, amazing. Seeing my child go from a barely moving newborn to this little person who so desperately wants, and tries, to crawl and communicate… that really does something to a person. Two of the best parts of my day, each and every day, are seeing those first smiles in the morning and watching her face light up when I pick her up from daycare.

 

Now she's trying to mimic sounds, clearly responds to her name, and I'm pretty sure she knows what her toes are even if she can't articulate the word. She grabs her feet, mommy's hair and glasses, and reaches to hold her bottle when it's time for a snack. Every day there's something new, and every day I grin uncontrollably.

 

When it comes to babies, we truly are blessed. First, she is stinkin' adorable, and no, I'm not just saying that; yes, she is, everyone says so and they even say so by saying "I'm not just saying this."

 

(You're "say"-ing a lot in this post.)

 

I have a lot to say. And I say yes, we're blessed, not only because this kid is a squishy, squirmy, giggling bucket-o-cuteness, but she is a downright good baby. Her fussing fits are few and far between, and usually centered on a dirty diaper or desire to eat. Case in point: We received an amazing Osprey hiking pack/kid carrier at the shower last November, and the offspring is finally big enough that we can use it. Use it we did: with kid-in-pack, we ventured to the jazz festival this past Saturday evening. Now, this weekend was hot. Like, Africa hot.

 

(Biloxy Blues? Nice.)

 

Thanks. And yea, like Africa hot. It was cooler in the shade, and the pack comes with a built in sunshade. True story. She sat in there as we walked around, taking in all the sights and sensations around her, and never once cried or fussed. Not. Once. And, of course, as if she wasn't cute enough already, she was wearing a pair of brightly colored sound-dampening headphones. Which she never not once ever tried to remove, either.

 

I'm not saying my child is gifted. Let's face it, every parent thinks their child is more advanced than said child really is… but watching my daughter grow I'm starting to wonder. A speech therapist acquaintance of grand mum observed her and believes she'll speak sooner than most. She's got the motions down for crawling and it's only a matter of time before she goes mobile, and she definitely has one or more teeth coming in already. She's five months old.

 

Holy crap. My kid is five months old already. Three weeks from this past Sunday she will be six months old. Half a year. Half a dozen donuts old.

 

They weren't kidding when they say it goes by quickly. Trying to take it all in is daunting, because work, life, and other things get in the way whether you like it or not. Plus… sometimes you have to step away from your child for a minute even when you don't technically have to.

 

(Wait, why?)

 

I've told you before: if you're going to be a good parent, you need to be a good you, and a good partner to your other half. You need to take some time to focus on you individually and the two yous as a couple.

 

(Two yoots?)

 

No, not two yoots, Cousin Vinny, two yous, the two of yous.

 

(Please have some more coffee.)

 

I'm working on that. Anyway, as hard as it is to leave your little loved one, do it anyway. This past Sunday we had the pleasure of cruising the lake on a pontoon boat with my sister, her other half, and other family members. The sun was hot, the water was cool, and the day was relaxing. We needed that. We needed a little down time when we weren't bouncing or feeding or changing or reading or screaming in agony as tiny little fingers grab handfuls of your chest hair.

 

(*blink blink*)

 

Okay, that last one was just me, but you get the point. Take some time for you. It will make you enjoy the time you have with your child all the more.

 

Five months, ten days. That's how long my daughter has been alive on the outside. That's how long I've been a dad. Five glorious months and ten wondrous days.

 

Y'all know I'm a dad, right?

 

*grins*

 

*grins some more*

 

 

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