Last night Baby V drifted off to sleep at around 6:40 p.m. She napped in the car on the way home from Eaton Canyon, falling asleep almost the second I strapped her in the car seat. I knew this would interfere with her nap, but her second nap is hit or miss lately. Sometimes it’s 20 minutes long, sometimes she skips it altogether, still other times she sleeps for an hour and 15 minutes. We left the hiking trail around 3:30, so her 20 minute snooze in the car was right on time.
When we got home, I sat to nurse her (hopefully) back to sleep, while Odie grabbed a cocktail and disappeared into his mancave. I struggled to get her down for about an hour before it became clear that Baby V was awake and staying that way. I envied Odie his hour of mancave time. Any free time I get (like right now, as I write this) is accompanied by my baby’s wails of protest that she is not ON MY BODY AT EVERY MOMENT OF TIME.
Odie emerged from the mancave and helped entertain Baby V since she was going to be awake until bedtime. He was happy to let me have some computer time and a glass of wine. They "walked’ around the house, played with toys, banged on the drum, and the like for about an hour. Every time Baby V looked at me during this time, however, she emitted a whine/yell that pierces my brain and sets my nerves on edge every time I hear it. Nature did not design baby wails to be easy for mommies to ignore.
He tried all his tricks. There aren’t many. Not lately. Since she turned about 8 and a half months, nothing but being held by Mommy will do. Everything else is just distracting her from the fact that she’s not with me. It’s sweet a lot of the time, but it’s terribly frustrating other times. Last night was one of those times. She fell asleep around 6:40, like I mentioned, but then she popped awake at 8:00. I thought she’d just stir and then go back down, but she stayed awake. Until 11:00. I was insistent about trying to nurse her back down because I just didn’t have the energy to sit and play toys with her and I feared it would wind her up. Even though she was stubbornly awake, she kept sort of dozing off. As soon as I thought, "Maybe, just maybe this is it!" she would pop her eyes open in a wide exaggerated way and show me that this was indeed NOT IT.
At 9:30, Odie emerged from his mancave to let me know he was going to hit the hay. I couldn’t be gracious. I said, "Lucky you," as Baby V squealed and pinched my nipples.
For just one day, I’d like to be the daddy. I’d like to hand the baby off to my spouse whenever she fusses and know that she’ll be well taken care of. I’d like to drink as many beers as I like and not worry about how the alcohol will affect my child. I’d like to leave 100% of the feeding and sleeping of the baby to another person. I’d like to change between 3 and zero diapers. I’d like a room of my own where I can go and shut the door and spend an hour or two however I please, knowing that the baby will not cry for me or need me. I’d like to have the satisfaction of knowing that I go to work and make the money for the family and be able to spend that money how I choose.
I’d like to sleep 7-8 hours in a row, uninterrupted. Or if I do wake up at the sound of my wife feeding our baby, I’d like to know she’s handling it and go back to sleep.
Okay, fantasy over. I know Odie works hard. I know how difficult it is to be a teacher because I’ve been one for 10 years. I don’t know how hard it is to be a math teacher. Math is a pretty universally loathed subject and even CNN can’t report on the TED conference without referring to the participants as "math nerds." Not "math enthusiasts" or "math geniuses," they have to go with the cruel and stigmatizing "nerds."
I also know Odie loves our daughter and is willing to lend a hand whenever I ask. There is literally no task I have or could ever ask him to do that he would not take on. He’s that good of a father. The rub is that we are doing "Attachment Parenting" which puts the father very much in a supporting role as long as Baby V is nursing (which will be until she is at least one and probably longer). I have no complaints about Odie as a father.
But I’d like to trade places for a day. Preferably a Saturday.
The Friendly Pedant by Mrs. Odie 