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April 28, 2002
"So, what do you like most about being a dad?" asked Alex, my Quebecois friend, a few weeks ago. I thought at first that the question was hard, but suddenly the answer was obvious:
"Watching other people holding her and enjoying her," I said.
This continues to be true, but it's certainly not the ONLY thing I enjoy. Anything that makes my two-month-old daughter more content or break out in a beaming, joyous grin results in a chemical reaction in my brain (and heart?) that makes me feel stronger and more capable. I grow into my fatherhood clothes a little more each day.
Even tasks as seemingly banal or unpleasant as changing diapers are fun. We talk to Piper all the time, but during diaper changes we actually have CONVERSATIONS, with her chattering back to us -- that is, on the rare occasion when she's paying attention to us instead of her boyfriends.
What's that, you say? Your daughter has boyfriends? At two months? Why, yes! The main changing station is in the kitchen, and when she lies on her back for changing she views photos of three baby boys stuck to the bottom of the cabinets above her. Piper is positively smitten with Sammy, Joe and Augie (My wife named them after three of her favorite Chicago Cubs) as she mercilessly bats her eyes, coos, giggles, and screams in joy. Sometimes Piper is having such a good time flirting that I pull up a stool next to her and let her wriggle, yip, and flirt to her little heart's delight while I do a crossword. (Not many blanks are filled -- she's far more entertaining.)
Feeding her is also a great experience. We introduced Piper to her first bottle at around five weeks, a few days before Laura returned to work. One night at Grandma's house, we warmed up two ounces of breast milk, approaching the first bottle more as an experiment than a true feeding. We all had low expectations, but the little one surprised us all, not only gulping it down but also promptly falling asleep afterwards. It's hard to describe the sense of POWER I felt from this experience: I had made my hungry daughter content! Later, there was more fussing with the bottle, but she seems now to have accepted being fed from either bottle or breast with no confusion.
Grandma Grace discovered a week or so ago that Piper is now beginning to really respond to certain board books. Her favorite is called _Peek-A-Who_, and she is as tickled by it on the third go-round as the first. It's hard to tell if it's the actual book that she loves or the overly animated way in which we read it to her, playing our own peek-a-boo games by hiding behind the book and popping out with a "Boo!" While she doesn't actually vocally laugh yet (we probably have another two months to wait for that glorious event), her face explodes with delight at the game anyway.
One of my most important "daddy jobs" so far has been the responsibility to help Piper fall asleep at night. On several occasions over the last couple of weeks, she has gotten particularly fussy in the evenings, and my wife is usually pretty worn out by 10 p.m. So I gather up my daughter, swaddle her, and use all the tricks I've learned to encourage her to give in to the sandman. She usually demands to be held upright, with her head over one of my shoulders. (I am told this is common with many babies.) I also MUST be standing up; any attempts at sitting result in immediate whining. Holding her thus and slightly bouncing on the balls of my feet usually lures her into a deep enough sleep that she can be slipped quietly into her crib. Occasionally that doesn't do it, and then Laura resorts to another feeding.
Piper is asleep by midnight at the latest. Recently she has begun to sleep for 5 to 5-1/2 hour stretches. We consider ourselves fortunate to have a baby who handles nighttime so well, though Laura's full breasts sometimes wish that the feedings would come a little more regularly at night.
Laura, bless her heart, lets me sleep through nighttime feedings. She reasons that there's nothing for me to do as long as Piper is being breastfed -- and even if I did give her a bottle, Laura would still have to get up to pump. I thank her often for this and tell myself I will make this up to her later, when our little girl wakes up crying from a nightmare or a tummy ache later in life.
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Last October, my office needed to cut back my work hours from full-time to 20 hours a week. This was a scary prospect at first, and I briefly looked for another job. But it wasn't too long before Laura and I realized that the cut-back may have been a blessing in disguise. We had begun to look at daycare centers, and frankly the options for a newborn seemed depressing.
So the three of us -- Laura, her mother and I -- came to a decision that when Laura returned to work, Grace and I would share the daycare duties: Grace on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and me on Tuesday and Thursday. We agreed to stick with this plan as long as it made sense to do so.
The fact that Piper is an easy baby has made this arrangement better than we expected. Grace often brags about what a breeze her days are, but the truth is that my days with Piper are the best days of my week! Once Laura walks out the door for work, I feel completely empowered as a parent. This little wiggly-worm is my responsibility -- and rather than fearing this charge, as is often depicted in popular culture, I thrive in it. I may not be getting paid in US dollars for my days as Mr. Mom, but this truly feels like my job -- a job that I love.
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Laura and I actually attempted our first "date night" a week ago. Grandma Grace offered to take care of Piper long enough for us to sneak out to a movie. We almost didn't get to see anything -- a last-minute hungry daughter pushed our departure time later than expected, and the movie we had planned on seeing was sold out when we arrived. But we persevered and chose a different movie, making it through 90% of the film before my cell phone, set on "silent," lit up in my seat's drink holder. It was Grandma, with a wailing granddaughter in the background. Laura and I quickly and quietly exited the theatre and scooted home. Even with all her years of experience raising three children, Grandma had run out of tricks to keep Piper happy. The girl wanted only one thing: Mom! Once on the breast, order was restored.
Grace loves her granddaughter, but we think that we'll try out someone else for babysitting duties next time and give her a break!
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