You May Think I'm Stupid, But I Am

Trust me baby trust me.
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NOVEMBER 17, 2009 5:47PM

Oh. They're asleep.

Rate: 57 Flag

It’s three in the afternoon and they’re down for the count, in the bedroom, with the lights out, the blinds closed and the rain and chill outside. Before she zonked, she told me what a great afternoon this would be for a nap. I said, ‘So take a nap then.’ She said, ‘Sounds like a good idea.’ That was just past two. Almost an hour ago.

I almost woke them up when I barged in there to ask her a question cause I didn’t know she was asleep. I thought she was still feeding. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have barged in there to ask her a question to which I already knew the answer. (Q: Where’s the dish soap? A: We’re out cause yours truly forgot to pick some up this morning.) I almost woke them up with the first half of the question. They both flinched and winced, I thought for sure I had woken them up but they both just … fell back, just … settled back, into-onto the mattress.

Glad I didn’t wake them up. Glad I get to see this. Glad I’m here.

She lies on her side, facing the wall. He’s on his back, spread-eagled in that baby way, with legs kinda twisted to the right a bit, both hands up around his ears. (He’s got my ears. Which is too bad. My ears, well, there’s something fucked up bout ‘em. They don’t look quite right, even though no one can exactly say why. They’re just … not quite right. He’s got ‘em. Everyone in the damn hospital said, yep, he’s got your ears, all right. Everything else on him seems to be her side of the family. If all he gets from me is my ears, he’ll be one lucky sonofabitch. I called him that once, til she told me what I was doing was calling her a bitch. I couldn’t argue with that, so that’s the last time I called him sonofabitch. Now I call him sonofagun. She can’t object to being called a gun.)

This is me, tired, by the way. This is how I am on too many hours of being awake. It’s kinda in the same neck of the woods as a hangover only without the hangover. Just … out of it and rambling and who knows what the hell’s going through my brain at any given moment.

I was like this the last few weeks fore the restaurant opened. I was like this when dad was sick and then dying. I was like this the first few weeks after she told me she was preggo. I got the worries real bad. They’ve gone away. I’m not worried, per se, anymore. I just wanna make sure nothing bad happens to them.

But yeah. This is me, tired. If I had the energy, I spose I could do some laundry or those dishes in the sink. The living room’s a disaster area and could do with a good picking-up. The changing table’s all higgledy-piggledy. Grocery list to finish cause I forgot half of it this morning, bills to pay, fantasy teams to check, emails to answer. Things to do, I got things to do. I just feel like standing here, though. Looking at them.

He just yawned real wide, then smacked his lips. He had this eye crud thing happening a few days ago. Seems to be gone now, thank god. First time we noticed that, noticed that his eyes had more or less glued shut with eye crud we both kinda …

Hah. Wow. Cool.

He just moved closer to her. He nestled into her crook and she (I’m pretty sure unawares, in her sleep) dropped her right arm down so as to shield or cradle. He did the contented-baby grumble-growl, smacked his lips again, and turned his head over to the other side. Now he’s facing her, and no longer the wall. Glad I was here to see it. (He also farted, but I’m getting used to that.)

Other things I’m getting used to are, in no particular order: getting peed on, getting pooped on, the smell of baby poop, the look of baby poop, the feel of baby poop, examining baby poop to see if it’s like the baby books say it’s sposed to be like (mustard-y), getting spit up on, getting burped on, the mouth he makes when he wants a boob and he wants a boob now, applying butt cream to someone else’s butt not just my own, what it feels like to anticipate a solid two hours of sleep, bouncing him on my lap at four in the morning hoping it’ll settle him the fuck down, seeing her, me, her parents and/or my parents in him every so often, just catching a long enough glimpse of someone else to …

She flinched. (If she was Fleegle, which she’s not, I would say she was dreaming of chasing rabbits. It was one of those flinches.) She flinched but now she’s back still again. She’s sleeping so deep, and I’d bet you dollars to donuts, it’s cause she had a nice long hot shower right after lunch. Her first shower in a couple days, and the before and after of her before and after the shower was night and day. Makes you realize showers are something one tends to take for granted even though you shouldn’t cause the recuperative, restorative qualities of a shower are …

I stayed in England for a bit.

Yep. I did. A friend in England, the countryside, and I went to stay with him for a short while. This was way back in …

At the time, his kids were like two and one. One day, his wife realized she had just enough time to squeeze in a long hot shower, and the look on her face. The look on her face. After she had gone upstairs, I turned to my friend and told him something long the lines of ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so happy at just the realization of a shower. Must be rough, huh. Running round after two kids. Must really cut into one’s shower time.’ I think he looked at me like he thought I was mocking her, but I wasn’t. I swear to god I wasn’t. Mighta had a mocking tone, but my intent was not to mock. I liked her a lot, and was always impressed by how she held up.

Once he figured out I was being genuine for a change, he said ‘Just you wait, my son. Just you wait.’ We were in his garden, with pints of bitter. He called me ‘my son.’ I called him ‘duchess.’ It was a thing we did, but this was … years ago. This was … at least eight years ago. Prolly longer. He still lives there, the English countryside. Dorset. Jimmy just went to visit him. Had a grand old time, by all accounts. Jimmy’s life’s still like that. Just pick up and go at a moment’s notice. Specially with all those miles he’s got. He’s got like four hundred thousand miles.

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Welcome to child rearing!
Awwww! Yay for baby smell!
"I just feel like standing here, though. Looking at them."

GO then. Go watch them sleep.

And take photographs. A LOT of photographs. Especially when he's sleeping. And feeding. And everything.

Congratulations to you all.

Go love them.
I am so happy for all of you!!!
Rated for showers, poop, farting and most of all, "higgledy-piggledy".
This is just incredibly sweet.
Another superb piece of writing S. Like more people need to be able to read pieces like this. Touching, moving, observant, brilliant really. And I'm feeling like I'm getting to read this for Free? Seriously? You're not kidding me? This is great stuff...stuff I'd pay for. Thanks for being so generous as to share it with us.
So nice, that's it, just sooo nice...Hold on it's going to be a bumpy but lovable ride!!
Shower scene bonus - flashback to the "Risky Business" shower scene.... just thought I'd plant that in your head. ;)
Beautiful. Enjoy these moments.
Forgetting dish soap; remembering to check fantasy teams. As it should be. How do we plant the idea in Jimmy's head to donate 50,000 miles to the child-formerly-known-as-Pokey in order to help get your family to England?
Even sleep deprived, you're hitting it out of the park.

You think Jimmy could tell me how to acquire a lot of miles? I need miles for an upgrade. :-)
very nice Squirrel, and it was a great day for a nap
that shower thing? it will be a decade or two before that changes even a tiny bit. it's like no. 3 on the list, never 4 or higher. swear.
I swear, I am remembering why I used to like my kids because of you
:-) . It's nice, that time when they need you so and realize it. They don't argue with you other than to bitch a bit about being hungry or needing changing and even then, they don't use words like "bite me" or "ask if I care". I love little Pokey. And you. And even wifey.
Gol dang if I was an agent you'd have a book contract sure as that baby farts. But I'm not, just another reader who totally appreciates that you appreciate the holy little moments where everything that's good about being alive shines through. Good one, squirrel.
Take loads of pictures, when he farts, nurses, burps, sleeps....
As Donna Sandstrom said, "holy moments." Yes. Those moments when you look and really see, listen and really hear, love and--wow. Love and get all teary, just like I'm getting now. This is so beautiful. Makes me yearn for a baby to cuddle........for about one minute. And love giving him back to mommy and daddy. Thank you for sharing these holy moments with us, squirrel. Rated. D
Awesome! Enjoy every moment...
Face it...you're stuck with the kid...and you LIKE it.
Fatherhood is something...good I think....but definately something.
Have you notice how short their arms are? They stick their hands straight up and they only go to their ears!!! That's... like... freaky. Eventually they grow normal.

Maybe the same thing'll happen to the ears. If not, just staple them to the back of the head, and grow hair over them. I went to doctor school for a day, so I know this stuff.
Awwww. . .so precious. I miss that stage but I do tend to shower more these days.
Yummy yum yumm.

And what PFarmer said, Enjoy them while they adore you.
Thanks for reminding me of those days. I don't recall parenting my babies being rocket science, but it sure did require stamina. The service they need isn't complicated . . . it's just so frequent.
These are the beautiful moments, the moments we remember when the world goes to hell in a handbasket and we need something to hold on to. These are the moments, enjoy, embrace them, remember them...well all but the poop, you can just forget about that one! Enjoy
Beautiful. Makes me jealous (I've got baby fever something fierce these days). Enjoy every second - you deserve it. :-)
This is you on too little sleep?! Damn you set the bar high, dude.
"Glad I didn’t wake them up. Glad I get to see this. Glad I’m here."

Thank you for sharing these bits of gladness. I'll use one now and save the others, wrapped in the pressed linen handerchief I found in my mother's stash of precious things. They'll come in handy in an unglad hour, usually between 3 and 5 a.m.

(Whatever became of handkerchiefs, anyway? Kleenex: phooey.)
You really make those days come back to me -- smells and all.
If there is one thing that I learned from the early years it's that the dishes, grocery shopping, laudry, etc. can wait. They can always wait. Some things are way more important.
I love when life gets all higgledy-piggledy.

My kids are 6,9, & 11 and I haven't gotten tired of staring at them...though I'm sure they wish I would.
Great post! Brings back lots of pleasant memories.

R
I will check back in when they are sixteen. Their farts are not so cute then. Sometimes they involve bail.
Just heard a great place :___T allMingle CO M___ , we can find any types friends you want to meet, please have a try...
Makes you realize showers are something one tends to take for granted

Heh. And showering ALONE. Meaning no one else is in the bathroom, talking at you or anything. Bliss, I tell you.

Hey, don't forget to SLEEP once in a while too. Sleep is definitely NOT over-rated.

And be careful, squirrel. They grow up on you FAST. So enjoy this, take all the time you can to enjoy it.
squirrel:

about those ears. sorry for the downer post, but just a note from a 'funny looking kid' - what the dr's call those who look not quite right but they can't find anything wrong - it could be the marker for some sort of issue.
my funny looking ears mean i have waardenbergs' - hearing loss. doesn't bother me now, but if i'd been lucky enough to have sign language in school, i'd be a less frustrated more successful person now.

not to be alarming, just informative.