I was going to write about my new daughter (just over a week old when this appears), but I need more time to really get a handle on it. Years, I think. The whole thing is just so overwhelming. The lack of sleep doesn't help me collect my thoughts, either. The only advice I can offer is to get a relative or two to stay with you, put them to work, and get some sleep. Oh, and make sure that your friends who are parents can commiserate with you. Advice is great, but you'll really need to hear that, yes, an hour-long (or longer) inconsolable bout of crying at 2am is perfectly normal. Sure, other babies seem well behaved, but that's only because you haven't been spending time with the family late at night. And hospitals don't have return policies, anyway.
Not, of course, that I regret being a parent. All that hokey stuff about instantly falling in love with your newborn and your nuclear family becoming by far the most important thing in the universe to you and sudden feelings of being Daddy the Protector...well, yeah, they're true. Face it, how many people would you stay up with in the wee morning hours while they screamed and cried for no reason that you could determine?
And for someone who never changed a diaper in his life, I've learned pretty quickly. It helps, of course, that they start small. If we had to deal with the whole "Mork & Mindy" premise of Jonathan Winters-sized babies...boy, I just don't want to even finish that thought.
One hour later...
Well, that didn't work out. So much for the 500 in 500. Time to change and then figure out a way to soothe the baby. I think I've found the only person in the world who might appreciate my singing. Scary. Now let's see if she can sleep...
One hour later...
Ok, a little sleep, and then a lot of hunger. Now it looks like she's off for a nice little nap. We hope.
And I wonder, how do so many people do this? This is hard. I'd gladly take a college final every day in exchange for 6 hours of sleep. I love my parents, but I never truly appreciated them until now. Sure, it's not as if anyone said to us "Raising kids? Piece of cake! I never got less than a good eight hours of sleep a night!" Quite the opposite, in fact. If someone had told us that, we'd have hunted them down and set them on fire by now. Then we would laugh and laugh. It's best not to taunt tired parents.
Half an hour later...
Ok, the dog has been walked. Now my daughter is napping in my arms. I feel like a real dad.
Time to wrap this up. I'll try to be cynical again next week, I promise.