I've been thinking a lot about the crazy things you do for your child as a mom. Who in their right mind would wake up every three hours normally? Not anyone of sound mind, that's for sure. But low and behold, James cries in the middle of the night, I'm jumping out of bed without a moment's notice. Usually I'm wide awake, ready to face whatever thing he needs from his mommy. Poopy diaper? Annihilated. Hungry? Taken care of. I'm like Super Woman. Move the hell out of my way. When my baby's crying, there's no stopping me.
Unless I'm really, really tired. And then, there's a lot stopping me.
So here's James' Practical Guide to Parenting, as written by James.
1) Stop killing yourself to change the crib sheet every time my diaper leaks. Just start me at one end of the crib and work me down to the other. Then change the crib sheet.
2) It is ok to simply rinse the bottle you just fed me with to fill it, again, with formula. It will not kill me, I swear.
3) You make up some silly-ass songs. But I absolutely love them. My name is James *clapclap* I have a rash *clapclap* On *clapclap clap* My ass. Someday this will be what we call an oldie-but-goodie.
4) I am a newborn and I have mood swings. Deal with it.
5) Sometimes I like the sound of my own voice. And the current timbre of my voice is "cry."
6) Yes, there are times that I like Dad more than you, and vice versa. Don't take it personally.
7) I cannot believe you have stooped to the level of licking your finger and wiping my face. Thought I'd never see the day.
8) Someday, I will not appreciate all these cutesy outfits you have put me in. And yes, I'm glad when Dad steps in and says you can't put me in something.
9) I don't know why you freak out about me possibly freaking out during thunderstorms. They are thunderstorms. I'm not freaking out. Why are you?
10) I love that all you let me watch is National Geographic, Animal Planet and The History Channel. Those shows are badass!
And so it goes.
There are so many other things you are starting to do. A month has flown by and this morning, you smiled at us. A genuine, non-gas-related, longer than 2 second smile. We were over the moon! There have been some trying times, too. Like when your mom forgot to take the plastic wrap off the pork roast and cooked it for four hours before she realized it. Luckily, it was the non-melting kind, but led your dad and I to get on each other's nerves and in response, hate each other for about 3 hours. But at the end of the day, we love each other and decided to eat the pork roast and then never speak of the incident again. Looking back, we were both just really tired.
But tired, mad, sad and more tired are all wrapped up with a giant ball of elatedness that you're finally here. You're ours! And we couldn't be happier.
In other news, I can't help but notice that on your one month, a young, male cardinal showed up at our house. At first, we were laughing because it seems as though he loves to harass Kinnick since Kinnick can't seem to work up the speed to actually catch him. It's not as easy as the little,defenseless bunnies he seems to massacre every night while the neighborhood is sleeping. However, I noticed on Saturday that when I got up to feed you at 5:30 a.m., there was the cardinal. Maybe 3 feet from your window, looking straight in, chirping away with all the other birds in the morning. It was striking being so close on a tiny branch, and I noticed it right away!
It stayed there the entire time I fed you, while I changed you, and then disappeared when I laid you back in your crib. I tripped, exhausted, back into our bedroom and there, on the pear tree branch right outside of our bedroom window was the cardinal. And yes, there was no mistaking it was the same cardinal. Same horn of red feathers on his head, same size, chirping away! I couldn't believe it! There are only two cardinals, a male and female, in our neighborhood, two bluejays and a handful of other birds. It was the same cardinal!
I climbed back into bed, laughing to myself.
Hiya to you too, dad. Good to see you and thank you for watching over myself and James, and then showing back up to tell me I'm doing a good job. Sometimes, it feels like I'm not and I'm the worst mother in the world. Like when I don't necessarily know what to "do" with James - he can't see that well yet, but will this toy or that activity mat keep his interest?
I haven't seen you for a few days, dad, but I know you'll be back just when I'm feeling extra exhausted, sort of defeated and really overwhelmed. Thank you for that.
Thank you thank you thank you for that.
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