Decker,
Two weeks ago I was freaking out, complete unsure in my parenting skills. I was trying to keep cool for you. I didn’t want you to see me sweat. I didn’t want you to think you were in the hands of some amateur, liable to cause irreparable damage at any moment. I’m not sure whether or not you were fooled. Judging by your crying and your general lack of calm, I’m guessing you were on to me.
But that was two weeks ago. Today you are four weeks old, and I’m a pro. As I sat down to open my laptop, you and your Mom are both sound asleep. The house is relatively clean, despite some half full diet cokes and half read parenting books. The dishes are done. We ate a pretty good dinner. The whole day has been good. I woke up this morning and worked all day. I crushed it at work, by the way. My latest product got some press and tomorrow one of the local news stations is going to interview me. I also got done most of the rest of what I set out to do.
Of course, we had some help today from Mimi, which made it all a lot easier.
But the point is, for the first time, I felt like I was going to be okay at this. It was also the first time I felt that, if I were a baby, I’d be good with me as a Dad. I might even pick me as a Dad.
And you’re doing a good job, too. Being a baby does not look easy. Sometimes it looks downright terrible. You spit up a lot. Last night you cried for a long time for no apparent reason. After repositioning you nineteen times, we went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. You were asleep in less than two minutes. I saw it in a movie once.
Here’s your routine: you wake up, eat, sleep, poop, wake up, cry, fight going to sleep, cry, fake going to sleep, cry, go to sleep. Your persistance is impressive. You never miss a cry when something is off. That dedication is going to come in handy one day, I’m sure.
Dad