i forgot how hard this is

With Spud’s birth three years distant, perhaps I was recalling this baby thing through glasses tinged with a bit of rose. 
I forgot about . . .

  • deciding between the oft-quoted adage of ‘sleeping when they sleep’ and the reality of things like paying bills and making phone calls
  • using the bathroom in the 30 second interval between when you lay them down and when they realize you just laid them down
  • little fists clenching tight to strands of hair
  • clutter, cleared and contained during nesting, reappearing overnight
  • explosive bowel movements
  • the endless merry-go-round of laundry: diapers, diapers, diapers
  • the ensuing panic when the merry-go-round breaks down
  • spit-up
  • holding your finger under their nose and leaning in close to make sure they’re still breathing; then repeating the same routine five minutes later

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I also forgot about . . .

  • warm fuzzy heads tucked under my chin
  • grumpy old man faces
  • bottom lips quivering in some of the first shows of personality and emotion
  • coos, sighs, grunts, snorts, and snores
  • how slippery they seem in the bathtub
  • little dimpled hands resting on my neck
  • fat rolls
  • lips making little sucking motions while slumbering
  • how nothing compares to the thrill of that first smile

I forgot how hard this is, but I’m remembering why it’s all so wonderful.


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