Literature or Psycho, the movie? (HoL 6)

I tried to write last night, but Isaac had other plans. He was clean, fed, and half asleep. I would put him in the crib, walk across the house, sit down, start to type, and he would start crying. Initially, I’d let him cry for a few minutes, but then he would start the “goat boy cry” (Yes it really sounds like a goat.), and follow it up with a round of coughing for extra guilt. I would go back in, check all the essentials, calm him down, and walk back to the computer. Usually before I could sit down, he would be crying again.

Sometimes I’d walk in, and he would be mad because he spit his pacifier out. I would explain that his pacifier is one and a half inches from his face tethered to his jammies. He couldn’t seem to grasp this concept at all. In this regard, babies are complete idiots.

So for most of the night, I’d sit down and try to write something funny or sweet, and this little dictator would yell from the next room for the sheer joy of watching me lose my mind trying to calm him down. Nothing sweet or funny came from last night.

Even as I write this, he is fussing and crying from his bouncy seat. I finally had to take him outside to Nancy, so I wouldn’t write anymore bad stuff about him. I have two baby calming techniques that work temporarily. The first one is, I put the pacifier in his mouth and then gently blow on his face. I don’t know if it’s the sensation of the breeze, or the beer on my breath, but generally he will settle. When I really am about to lose my mind though and ready to scream, I do just that. I’ll hold the baby face to face with me, and making crying sounds right back at him, only louder. This will usually startle him, and as long as I’m “Wah Wah”ing at him, he will quietly stare at me with a puzzled look on his face.

The boy can push me to the edge of sanity when he is in a bad mood, but at the same time, I am absolutely crazy for him. (The same can be said about Nancy, but that’s another story all together.)

I can be completely exhausted at work, and I just pine to come home and hold him. Every morning, I wake up and think, “I could just call in sick and stay home with him today.” It’s the closest thing I’ve had to a “Crush” since I was in middle school, but it’s much more intense.

If he is around, I love holding him and cuddling him. I’m not much of a touchy person. I have three rules for hugging. 1) I hug immediate family. 2) I hug people who I’ve known over ten years 3) I will hug a woman if she is crying and if I think hugging her will make her stop crying. I was raised Southern Baptist and the problem with touching other people is that you might enjoy it, and that could lead to dancing.

I love feeling Isaac’s weight ( eleven pounds, five ounces) on my chest when he is sleeping. I love to feel his head rooting around on my shoulder. I love to feel his soft hair under my chin. I love feeling him make a fist around my pinkies. I love to feel the strength in his legs when he kicks. I love to zrbrt his belly. (Up north they call it blowing a raspberry. Since I saw it called “Zrbrt” on the Cosby show, it just stuck.).

He’ll look at me and smile, and make funny noises. He has been trying out new sounds, and I think he enjoys experimenting to see what kinds of sounds he can actually make.

He is also eating a lot more. Sometimes he’ll only eat two ounces of formula, other times, he’ll take four, and then chase it with some milk. I’m thinking of installing a giant hamster bottle in his crib, and filling it with breast milk. It just seems easier.

We have started praying together at night. I’ll read three books and then I’ll say a prayer with him. We started out with “Now I lay me down to sleep”, but after saying that one, it seemed fairly violent and scary for the last thought before drifting off to sleep.

For those of you who don’t know, the prayer goes like this “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. IF I SHOULD DIE BEFORE I WAKE, I PRAY THE LORD MY SOUL TO TAKE.” This is a Metallica lyric, not for baby.

We switched over to the Lord’s prayer and close it out with the “God Bless” section. This is where we mention family, friends, and complete strangers, that we care about. It’s strange praying out loud in a private setting, but it’s a very holy time for the two of us.

We’ve left him alone with someone we don’t know for the first time last week. Our church hires college kids to man the nursery on Wednesday nights. Nancy did really well, but when that class was over, she was ready to get her baby.

So Isaac is almost two months old. How do my pre and post birth expectations about having a baby differ? First having a baby is not impossible, but at the same time I have a huge new respect for single parents. You just need to be a little clever, and anal retentive about planning. Secondly, I seriously underestimated how crazy in love, and how crazy frustrated I am capable of being (sometimes both in the span of five minutes).

Lastly, Nancy read the book, “I’ll Love You Forever” to Isaac today. She couldn’t help but cry every time the mother sang to her son, “I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, as long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be”. It wasn’t until afterwards, that she realized what a creepy ass book this is, and what sort of messed up family they are.

If you haven’t read the book, the Mom drives across town in the middle of the night, and breaks into her adult son’s room while he’s sleeping and cradles him. Later on, little Oedipus sneaks into mom’s retirement home and cradles her while she’s sleeping.

I prefer nice wholesome children’s books like Beatrix Potter’s “The Fierce Bad Rabbit”.

Big Matt