Sunday, October 24, 2004


I've finally pinned down this general feeling I've had for the past couple months - it's this fighting feeling that I'm having when I have to watch the babies by myself, and sometimes even when I'm co-piloting this parenthood thing with my wife home. I keep thinking that there's going to be some calvary that'll come, that some relief is in sight. Every Weekend, I look forward to my wife coming home. Every Monday, I look forward to Wednesday, because it's the only day that we both have off, and I would be past the lonely Monday/Tuesday night gauntlet. Every Thursday, I look forward to the weekend, when I have time off. Then it just goes all over again. My wife tells me that I should just accept that this is going to be the way it is, but I'm still pretty stubborn about it. Truth of the matter is, I know that at least once Zoe is even a year older, she'll be ten times easier because I'll have my other arm back. Holding a fussy baby is certainly an aspect of parenthood that I won't miss.

My wife come home from work today and took a shower, and while I was downstairs spacing out/taking drugs/eating wild mushrooms, there was a tremendous bang upstairs. I ignored it, but Alex started crying, likely from having jolted out of his afternoon nap. I thought nothing of it, and then later my wife comes down and tells me that she fell while coming out of the shower - slipped and fell on the floor. I felt bad for having extremely bad response time (none, really), and that I should probably check on loud noises if they were to ever happen again. She's fine, a little bruising in her arm, but probably more careful to fall whenever she's in the same visual space as me so that she could at least throw something at me to get my attention.

Alex got it first, and now Zoe's got a runny nose and a bit of the phelgmies. It's affecting Alex's sleep a little bit, and Zoe seems to be quite miserable with it. So my wife had to cancel a mondo playdate with some friends so that the other babies don't get it. Alex has had a lovely pooling of mucus and snot juice under the collarline of every shirt he's worn all week, and I've had to wipe his face a number of times already. Trust me, a year ago, I would think it unsanitary to put someone's snot rag in my pocket. Now it's leaning on practicality.

So goes another week of baby wrangling. I'll probably not post for a few days. Mondays and Tuesdays are pretty bad for me. I will be skulking.

Skulk. Skulk.

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