Screaming Little Person

She’s on the move.

A very happy first Mother’s Day to my much better half.

We’ve been awful about writing here, obviously…but that’ll change soon.

She’s always doing something new.

Rub a dub, etc.

The Bean speaks.

Have I mentioned how much I love being Sophie’s stay-at-home dad?

I won’t lie, I was a little freaked out going in. Leah likes to tell people that I’ve had more experience with babies than she has, but my younger siblings are all in their 20s now — that was a long time ago. I wasn’t sure how I was going to be able to get any work done. But honestly, Sophie’s a peach (and a Bean). She sleeps, she wakes up, she eats, we play, repeat. Today, we actually had some sun, for the first time in I don’t know how long, so she and I went for a little walk.

Driving back from the hospital the night she was born, I realized that everything I’d ever worried about in my entire life was totally meaningless next to what had just happened. Just a mosquito’s hiccup in the wind. Everybody tells you how your life changes the instant your child is born; it’s one of those things (for me, anyway) that you hear so often it doesn’t really register anymore. But it’s absolutely true.

It seemed like we waited forever for Sophie to be born, and I realize now that the whole time, I was certain on some level that there was no way this could all work out. I mean, making babies is pretty simple and lots of fun. But I guess — if you’re me, anyway — as soon as you want one, it seems like you’re going to need an endless list of things to happen perfectly, exactly right just to have a happy birth. (And then the real worrying begins, right?)

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath after Sophie came out, but I was. And hearing her cry for the first time unleashed the sweetest flood of relief I think I’ve ever felt. There’s nothing like hearing that first cry. And then to hold her — to look at this living thing that’s really, holy crap, a part of you — well, wow.

I felt a tremendous amount of guilt at first. I mean, this is just an embarrassment of riches, too much for anyone to be blessed with, right? My wife, my family, my friends, my health, our baby. I spent some time waiting for the other shoe to drop — feeling like the unbelievably stupid way I’ve lived my life, combined with this unbelievable good fortune, was going to tilt the balance of the universe so far out of whack that the only way to fix the situation would be for the forces of the cosmos to pull some kind of “yoink” on the proud new parents.

And that’s another thing: Having a child has enabled me to, for the first time, really understand why people believe in God and religion. Not only is it comforting to believe in a being great enough to dwarf your immense new responsibilities, but it’s impossible not to look in your child’s eyes and want to believe in divinity. Some kind of universal plan for life. The idea that, if you get your ducks in a row, you can help shield your family from the bad stuff — or, barring that, the idea that things will be better in the next life, or the afterlife, or whatever.

Like I said: It changes you. Instantly.

I don’t feel guilty anymore, just incredibly fortunate. I couldn’t have imagined a better baby, and I can’t believe I get to stay home with her for awhile. Not many fathers get to spend this kind of time getting to know their child.

I’ve been a lot of things so far in my life, but nothing compares to fatherhood. She is both my main concern and my greatest joy. And it just keeps getting better.

Has it really been only two months? I feel like it’s been a lifetime since I last wrote. I guess it has been a lifetime.

My life now is made up of three hour blocks of time. Feed Sophie. Entertain Sophie. Convince Sophie to sleep. Repeat. (Oh yes, throw in 7 1/2 hours of teaching on weekdays.) She’s incredibly adorable and all it takes is one smile to melt away the frustration of spending 5 hours trying to get her to fall asleep. (I’m not exaggerating. That was yesterday.) All I want to do is play and cuddle with her. I kiss her continuously.

I felt like a real mom the other day. We went shopping for a gift for our new baby friend, Samantha Rose Reading. I knew what to look for! Clothes that snap up the front make dressing much easier. I’m feeling more confident each day. I’m learning what Sophie’s sounds mean and how to comfort her.

(Can I just say one more time how much I love to kiss her? Her cheeks are so round I can’t even stand it. Just look at her face!)

I can’t get over how quickly she is changing. It’s only been 2 months and she’s so different than the helpless bundle we took home from the hospital. She smiles all the time in response to our smiles and coos. She has found her hand and can move it to her mouth. Mobiles are her favorites and she follows her animal friends around and around with her eyes. (Lady Monkey, Big Man Elephant, Mr. Stripes, and Jenny Giraffe have been her best friends since she opened her eyes.) Sophie’s arms used to flail up and smack dangling toys, but just the other day she impressed us with a new trick. Whenever I dangled a toy above her left side, her left arm slowly reached for it! I moved it slowly to the right and her right arm reached for it! That happened in a day. See how we can spend hours just staring at her? She’s growing so much each day.

Having a baby is the only way to truly feel the truth of certain things. Although she always tells me, I finally understand how much my mom can love me. And everyone says it, but I feel what a miracle life is.

So, what happened to the last two months?

It may have seemed as though we abandoned this place, but really, we haven’t–it’s just that, as many of you know, merging “regular life” with “baby life” is…a process.

Okay, so that process only took a few weeks. I’m also bad at remembering to write. But we’re back and better than ever!

Basically, Sophie is great. We have no complaints (not that we’d share them with you if we did, but still). She eats well, sleeps well, and, all things considered, would rather not cry. She smiles all the time — no matter what those stupid books say about babies not smiling until they’re three months old or whatever — and is starting to learn how to use her hands to whack the crap out of whatever she can reach with them. She’s also started trying to sit up, roll over, and scoot wherever her pudgy little feet will take her. In short, my daughter is a Super Genius Baby. Rather than keeping a thick stack of pictures in my wallet to torment strangers with, Leah and I have compiled an enormous (and ever-growing) collection of them here. And yes, that link will update as we add photos. Click on it any time you like. Odds are, new ones will have been added since your last visit. We’re sort of dopey and obsessed.

Now that Leah’s back to school, I’m Mr. Full-Time Stay at Home Mom, which works a lot more smoothly than I’d feared. She’s an amazingly easy baby. We get up, she eats, she plays, she squeals and coos, she sleeps. It sort of rules.

So basically, from here on out, we’re going to be just kind of talking about what it’s like being Sophie’s parents and sharing information about various products we’ve tried — good and bad. Hope that’s cool with all of you. And thanks for sticking around.

I had big plans for this post. I swear I did.

I was driving home from the hospital tonight, thinking about how I feel and how I’d describe it for you all, and (hopefully) Sophie, eventually. There’s a mad swirl of emotions thundering around in here, I tell you.

I’m just too frigging tired to get any of them out coherently.

I’ll tell you this: The last two days have been the most emotional and exhausting of my life. Yet I’m elated. Go figure.

It was a rough delivery. Well, I hate to say that, because it makes it sound like the whole thing was a long ordeal, and for awhile, things went along as smoothly as labor & delivery ever does. I mean, Leah showed up dilated to 8 cm — they sort of thought Sophie was going to pop out at any minute. The kid, of course, had other plans.

Anyway, yeah, it was pretty bumpy there toward the end. Right now, I certainly don’t feel the need for us to have any more kids. Watching Leah go through all that — not to mention all the poking, prodding, and assorted insult-to-injury that came after — is something I’m going to need a lot of time and distance before I risk happening again.

But she’s here, and healthy. And Leah’s doing great. They come home tomorrow. I can’t wait.

Pictures here if you wanna see ‘em. (I guess you must, otherwise you wouldn’t be here!)