The Rise of Super Dad

I was raised by two wonderful, hands-on, loving parents. My mom stayed at home after my younger sister was born while my dad worked hard to support the family. My dad changed diapers, got up in the middle of the night, and held us at dinner so my mom could enjoy her meal. My dad went to swim meets, piano recitals, dance recitals, gymnastics meets and everything in between. This is what I was used to and this is what I expected from Adam (now Dad). 

What I didn't expect was the unique dynamic that comes with a new baby. The past year has been a process that has changed our lives and relationship more than I imagined. For me, becoming a mother happened instantly. The second I saw B lying on my chest, looking all squishy and gross, I knew what I needed to do. When I didn't know what to do, I moved forward acting like I did. This is just kind of how I do most things in life...personally and professionally. 

About an hour after B's arrival. 

I feel like for men things happen differently. The foreign object that was just removed from the body of their significant other is now screaming and flailing attempting to comprehend the sensory overload that has just taken place. Nurses are scurrying about tending to Mom and Baby while Dad is left trying to get a glimpse of the new life he helped create. What ensues in the following months is difficult to describe and, I would imagine, differs wildly from one father to the next. 

Perfecting the football hold. 

Look at that sweet face.

 Our journey into parenthood has had its ups and downs. But the one thing I never doubted was Dad's ability. Three months after B was born, I had to travel to L.A. for work. Dad handled B just fine, despite his own nerves. Most every morning, we pack up B and Dad gets him to daycare. Most every night, Dad washes and prepares B's bottles for the next day, after he washes our dishes from dinner; he then cleans the entire kitchen and picks up the toys strewn throughout the house. 

Closely supervising tummy time.

This weekend I attended my sister's bachelorette party. Dad and B had a boys weekend - dinner with Grandpa Friday night, Dad got to golf with friends on Saturday thanks to my brave girl friends who managed three babies, B and Dad washed up then headed to a dinner with friends on Saturday night, then brunch on Sunday before I got home. 

The Super Dads and their boys before golf.

By the time I got home, B and Dad were waiting and everyone was happy. Dad didn't seem frazzled, there were no weekend mishaps, and we enjoyed a nice evening and early bed time. 

I don't want to provide a false sense of ease...life is not always easy. We have had our ups and downs as parents, but we have grown, adapted and overcome. Dad is amazing; he has the desire and ability to make B a happy, well-adjusted child. More importantly, Dad has the desire and ability to make me the happiest Mom and wife. 

Let's be honest, Dad is MUCH funnier than Mom.

Cheers to all the Super Dads who change diapers in the car because there is no changing table, who eat cold food because the baby decided the high chair was no longer comfy, and who strap on the diaper bag and sport that burp cloth. But let's not forget the private times when you let us cry on your shoulder, bring us a glass of wine in the bath, and remove our hair from the fist of a handsy infant. 

A Well of Emotions

You know that feeling you get when you are rocking your precious baby to sleep and he is calm, adorable and smells like heaven? It starts in your belly and creeps up through your chest to the bottom of your throat where it collects into a ball that you just can't swallow until you start crying because you are so overwhelmed with love for this human being you have created.

Precious sleeping B. 

It is a beautiful, scary feeling. You want to do everything you can for this child and be the best parent the world has ever seen. Of course, at this moment, the sweetly sleeping baby is awoken by your sobs and you have to collect yourself to get the little terror back to sleep. 

This is just the beginning of the well of emotions I have experienced as a new mom. Then there is the time when the tears of joy are replaced with sheer terror and dread. 

I get this feeling when I think B may be getting sick. Like when he vomits an entire bottle of formula or when he wakes up with a stream of green snot stuck to his upper lip and side of his face. The pit of my stomach that holds so much joy and love for my beautiful, blue-eyed baby boy is replaced with a gut-wrenching mix of anger and distress. 

Will the snot stay green throughout the day? Do we have any boogie wipes? Will I ever not smell like formula vomit? Will I vomit the next time it happens? Will the couch smell like vomit? Is there enough Febreeze in the world to combat the stench? Will he sleep at all? Will I sleep at all? How much baby Motrin can you give a child? Should I call the doctor? OMG, what if he needs antibiotics?! (see post from March)

Let me tell you, this kid can see the snot sucker from across the room and it sends him into a fit with arms flailing and head shaking. He hates having his nose and face wiped, acting as if his hand is being cut off. Sometimes when I see he has boogers in his nose, I leave them for a while. What does a little booger hurt? He could certainly care less.

But when I am rocking him to sleep, with or without a fever, it makes all of the terrible smells and snot-wiping well worth it. And in true B fashion, he is happy even when he is isn't feeling his best.

B at 4.5 months. Diagnosed with RSV three days later.