Men aren’t supposed to like changing diapers. And I suppose no one truly likes changing diapers, but something I have learned in these 3 and a half weeks so far is that it’s really not that bad right now. He’s still in the “yellow, seedy poop” stage. So I can’t honestly say that the smell is difficult to deal with. The hardest part about changing his diapers is taking off his clothes and putting them back on.
The way I look at it, despite all that my wife does for not only our son but for us as well, if there’s one thing I can do efficiently, it’s to change his diapers. Granted, as much as my parents and sister and her husband have helped out as well, it’s not like I’m changing the majority of his diapers anyway. But if nothing else, I have learned that a dirty diaper is not something I fear or have any valid reason to avoid. Though I do prefer it when he’s wearing a onesie: easy access.
In theory, Jack would spend the majority of his sleeping hours in his nice crib. But in reality, during the day he sleeps wherever he ends up falling asleep. Sometimes it’s his sock monkey bed, sometimes it’s the papason chair, and sometimes it’s somebody’s arms. It’s funny how it’s an infant’s full time job to sleep. When he wakes up, Jack typically goes through a 15 minute stretching ordeal. I love how he is essentially exhausted from sleeping all the time.
I have always secretly wanted a fur coat- the chic yet manly kind like Rocky Balboa had. That appears to be in the genes as Jack loves to be wrapped up in the finest, softest materials. Jack lives such a glorious, pampered life. He has an appreciation for the finer things in life. But he also isn’t above loudly passing gas when people hold him. That’s good- it shows he’s culturally balanced.
It doesn’t take being a full week into this to realize that there are predictable patterns of my baby: he eats, he poops/pees, he plays, and he sleeps. Of course the word “plays”, when referring to a week-old infant, is somewhat limited being that he doesn’t really have active neck muscles yet. I have to turn his head to show him where the action is, but that’s okay.
When he’s more awake, I like to box with Baby Jack. He instinctively puts his hands out like a boxer- and because we keep mittens on his hands to keep him from scratching his face, it’s only natural that he makes for a perfect baby boxer. Of course, it’s his fists versus my pointer fingers. And I only push my fingers up against his “boxing gloves”. We are in the beginning stages of “dad wrestles son”.
Another playtime activity is when I lay back against a wall or the bed headboard, placing him in my lap. Then I use my legs as a sort of elevator/recliner, which serves as a fun ride for him. Something else I can do in this position is to flex my stomach muscles very hard, straining hard enough to cause my stomach to vibrate or shake quickly. That makes Jack vibrate and shake too- it’s an easy way to get him to smile. When playing with him, I basically just think to myself: “What are all the ways I would like to annoy a cat if it would let me?” It gives me good direction as a dad.
My expectations of what it will be like for my wife and I to have a real baby are pretty limited. When I try to imagine it, I can only think about a few things: the baby crying, the baby being hungry, feeding the baby, the baby wanting to be held, holding the baby, the baby pooping, changing the baby’s diapers, the baby sleeping, us wishing we could sleep.
And aside from the 80’s sitcom stereotypes, I of course am well aware, thanks to everyone who has ever been a parent and given me any advice: There’s nothing in the world more rewarding than being a parent.
In November I will begin to feel like a real parent (once the kid is born). Until then I won’t really truly be able to understand or fathom this most rewarding thing in the world.
It’s funny to think that eventually we won’t be comparing our baby to the size of a certain fruit. (This week our baby is the size of a naval orange.) Eventually, our baby will be the size of a baby. Interesting thought.