I keep telling myself that a little sleep deprivation is nothing I can handle. After all, I did spend an entire summer and fall in Army basic training, Advanced Infantry Training, and Airborne school. It was nearly nine months of 4 hour nights and 20 hour days. “Surely I can handle a few short nights with a baby.” I say to myself.
Then, that other part of myself, the one that’s even rude to me, cuts in on the party. “That was 20 years ago old man.”
That was a hard thing to hear, even from myself. I didn’t talk to me for a few hours. I just had to get away from myself. I was afraid I might punch me. Sometimes I just don’t get along with me very well.
Once I calmed down, I realized I had a point. I’m not as young as I used to be. So I started sleeping in the guest room. Problem solved!
Maybe it’s because I’m not going to the office, or maybe it’s because I haven’t been to the gym since Logan was born, but it doesn’t seem like the time is really flying by. I feel like we’ve been doing this for months instead of just six weeks. I catch myself complaining under my breath that he isn’t developing as fast as I’d thought. And then I remind me that he’s not even two months old yet. “Oh yeah.” I say, “Maybe it just seems longer because of those things I said earlier in the paragraph?”
“No,” I tell myself, snidely, and with a fair amount of contempt for the slow learner I’m forced to converse with, “It’s because you’re tired and raising a baby is a full time job moron.”
“Sometimes I really don’t like you.” is my only reply to the terrible things I’m saying to me.
Fortunately, to break the crushing monotony of child rearing, Cameron’s father and step mother visited for the week. For a few hours they would sweep in and spend the majority of their time cooing at Logan and playing with his toes, allowing us the restful opportunity to do household chores and make small talk.
It was a good visit. Glenn and Lori don’t get out to Vegas often enough and they seemed pretty smitten by our fair boy. We even went out for Logan’s first night at a restaurant. A completely successful visit to Ventanno’s, a local Italian eatery with good veal piccata.
For the curious, we weighed Logan this afternoon, and his weight was up to 8lbs 12oz. That’s good progress.
1 Comment
Congrats on the weight gain! As for the thoughts, it’s amazing what crap goes through our heads. From what I can tell it seems to be common amongst the menfolk.