This space is for friends, family and sworn enemies alike to bask in and reminisce about parenthood. Discussion is being led by a fellow who enjoys being a Dad but is very much still learning what the job entails.
Hopefully we can have some laughs along the way. If we don't, it's your fault.
Friday, June 1, 2012
The Hungry, Relentless (& Always Growing) Baby
Yesterday marked two weeks since my son left the hospital and began 18 years of freeloading at mom and dad's.
Visual Approximation: my perception of my son.
He spent the first three weeks of his life recovering from surgery, so Mrs. Blackwell and I missed some early baby time. That said, I think we're at a point now where we can pause, draw a deep breath and take stock of how this whole parenting thing is progressing.
So far it's going swimmingly, fun even.
Mrs. Blackwell is predictably ga-ga for the baby and, well, I am too. The kid is certifiably cute. He's not a big crier. He loves his bottle and being wrapped snuggly in a swaddler. He burps on cue and, in general, avoids fussiness. (End of doting, I promise.)
Considering the baby apocalypse I was steeling myself for, this has been a pleasant surprise.
However, things are changing.
Firstly, he's moving more. Specifically, he's practicing lifting his head with greater regularity. Using his forearms, he'll prop himself up, eyes wider than Frisbees, and pivot his head back and forth once or twice before gravity wins and his noggin drops back into my chest.
Thankfully, his head is gigantic above average in stature so development of mobility will be delayed. However, he's moving his legs and arms with greater frequency too. It will be difficult to slow his progress here without swaddling 24 hours a day which, I'm told, is frowned upon.
Secondly, he's eating more. Our little guy spent his first two weeks receiving his nutrition through an IV. Since then, he's been on an unremitting, seemingly unending mission to make up for lost time. Mrs. Blackwell bears the brunt of this more than I and she does so with a smile.
Pictured: the cold, cold future.
I smile too and then, when I'm alone, I hold back the tears thinking about what this remorseless eating machine will do to our grocery bill by the time he's 15.
Thirdly, what comes after all this eating? I'll say only the words "blow out" take on an entirely new meaning when you've got a baby and then I'll move on quickly.
Fourthly, as he's growing he's leaving a trail of ill-fitting clothes in his wake. Piles of onesies, sleepers, socks and hats for his colossal head are growing. Like all things in life that are no longer useful they must be disposed of, so I take these items along with buckets of used batteries and burn them in the back yard.
Kidding. These items will of course be put to good use as will all of the items he outgrows for the next 18 years.