Lots of people love them, lots of folks have them, many don’t need them.
After having one of my own I’ve been forced to do what I hadn’t been doing much of before–Thinking and being responsible. Yes dammit I’ve been forced to become an adult. It’s not about me anymore, it’s about “us.” What I do now affects not only me, but my child as well. I have to set an example, watch how I speak and how I carry myself. I mean, she’s–yes, baby girl–only a month old and probably won’t remember that I let loose the F bomb on several occasions, but hey, you never know. Babies are devious little beings. I don’t care what science has to say, I’m sure as they get older they have a subconscious remembrance of things that happened and I don’t want to be that parent that is hanging out among friends and baby decides to go “fuck” in the middle of the conversation.
But I digress.
Now about parenthood. I’m used to babies that are older than 4 months. Newborns? Never had to deal with any. Barely interacted with them. I sure don’t hold them either. I used to feel like they would break in my hands because of how fragile they looked.
Well, when you get one of your own, you can’t exactly not hold or interact with your own kid. That would be terrible.
And here is where reality sets in.
Babies are hard work. I’ve only been with her for a month and I’m pretty sure I’ve lost some of the marbles that I barely had to begin with. I can’t take the crying. A baby’s cry is without a doubt the most awful sound on the face of the planet. It’s worst when they are crying and you feel like you’ve done everything but they wont. stop. crying. And damn they can eat. I would kill for 8 hours of straight sleep instead of this 2-3 hours that I’ve been getting. Because that’s how she operates. She eats every 2-3 hours then goes to sleep, and I have to follow that pattern to get some rest too.
No, I’m not calling for assistance, I’m going to talk about having help. You might as well say I’m a single parent. I currently live with my Mother, stepfather, two brothers and sister, and you would think that would be plenty of help.
Everyone has their own stuff to deal with it. Sure they would come by to rant about how “cute and small” the baby is, but to stick around and actually help with things like washing bottles, feed her, change her, nope, they all disappear. Now, I’m not saying they are obligated to help me at all. They didn’t help make her, so she isn’t exactly their responsibility but what I am saying is that when the child’s father isn’t around to help share the load (because he SUUUURRREEEE did help make her) it’s difficult. No, he didn’t pull the “That ain’t my baby” stunt and disappear and he isn’t a deadbeat. He’s in Germany. Military, the ultimate manstealer -_- so it’s not like he can do much but send support from a distance.
Yeah it’s only been a month and I’m already complaining. Go figure. But I can’t say I’m miserable. I don’t regret having her so soon either.
I love that little girl.
P.S my mind was so jumbled when I wrote this so I apologize if it seems like it doesn’t have a purpose.
(Top Picture is my Daughter)