Sunday, February 24, 2008

Eat, Drink, Be Married with children

Being a parent has consumed most of what I used to confuse as my life. The luxury of luxury time has long passed. Gone are the days of absurd marital formalities. Those niceties where bathroom adventures and unshaven legs existed as monsters in the night. A seasoned father (Brian, yes I mean you) once told me that you give up everything you once loved when when you have a child. At the time I took this to mean that my life was soon coming to an end. That I needed to hurry up and exploit my freedom to the hilt.

Au contraire...

My life was marked by firm purpose the day Maya and her chubby legs arrived. In the beginning, before Maya started sleeping from 9pm to 7am, I would go days without a shower, have time to eat only one meal a day, and sleep less than two hours a night. The world was spinning twice as fast as it should have been and I couldn't get a grasp on what was day, what was night, and why Maya had on two diapers at once. I wanted that to come to an end. I needed sleep. I needed to eat. And I needed not to feel like I had squirrels nesting in my hair.

Now that Maya is sleeping through the night in her own room, I find myself lying in bed awake listening to her subtle grunts and coos while staring at the baby monitor screen hoping to see her smile or hear her giggle in her sleep. I watch her wiggle around in her crib. I long for her to be next to me in the bed where she used to reach out her delicate hands searching for me in sleep. Upon locating me she would rest her open palm on cheek and all would be right with our worlds. Every morning when she wakes I'm bursting with anticipation because I know I get to feed her and snuggle with her after a long torturous night of being away.

I now understand what the he meant about giving up everything you once loved. There isn't a fraction of my being that would rather be doing anything other than anything Maya.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

A toast to Butters

John and Scarlett got a new Corgi puppy named Butters. He is a feisty; sweet boy. I made him a pillow in the shape of a piece of toast.