This is going to surprise you, but parenting is sort of hard. Harder than owning cats, even.
You take care of a tiny little human that relies on you for everything and needs near-constant attention. In return, you’re rewarded with sleepless nights, constant worries, and—later—toddler’s temper tantrums. Awesome!
So then you, a rational, sane person, look upon this shitty deal and go, “Hey, I know! Let’s have another baby!”
So then you do.
So then you have two babies, because that’s how math works.
If this intro was too subtle, I’m going to go ahead and spell it out:
We have a new TV I’m a father again.
To give you an idea of what it’s like to have a second baby when your first one is still in diapers: I’m over two months late with this announcement. The only reason I even got the chance to sit down and write about it now is because my wife left on vacation with the kids and I’ll only be joining them in a week’s time. (And because my brain got so excited at the prospect of finally getting enough sleep that it refused to let me fall asleep at all. I’m literally up for over 24 hours now. My brain is the biggest asshole I know.)
Baby Nia was born on May 16. She sprinted out into this world in just a few short hours because who has the time to wait these days?! She went home with us the very same night and was welcomed by the cats and her brother. She fit right in here, which is why we decided to forego our legal right to return her to the hospital within the first 24 hours. (That is a rule, no?)
And now they’re two.
Nia’s a healthy, smiling little girl…who often refuses to sleep and likes a cry or six every now and then. Nathan is a sweet, caring big brother…right up until he impulsively smacks Nia’s head on occasion. Oh yeah, that’s apparently a common way for older siblings to process the disruptive arrival of a cute-yet-formidable challenger.
Parenting is all kinds of fun!
Understandably, I was doing the happy dance and looking forward to some quality alone time when I saw them off at the airport two days ago…
…but then you find yourself awake in an empty, silent apartment and you realize the real reason you can’t fall asleep is that you simply don’t feel whole without these little bundles of stress anymore. Because they’re your everything. Frustrating, exhausting, wonderful everything.
So you sit down and write a post to let them know this in the most convoluted way possible.
There you have it, Nia. You, Nathan, and your amazing mom, complete me. I feel like that should be a line in a movie or something.
Okay, we’re veering dangerously toward “rambling” territory now, so I’ll wrap up.
I just wanted to capture this feeling while it was still fresh. Stale feelings are the worst.
Plus I wanted to have an early baby post about Nia.
Because she might one day go, “Dad, why did you write a bunch of blog posts about Nathan after he was born but none about me?” (In this particular story, people still give a shit about my blog.)
Then I’ll go, “Yeah, about that, funny thing, you see–whoa, wait, what, you’re, you’re breaking up, I’m losing connection, what, can’t hear you, the line’s reaaaaally bad!”
And then she’ll go, “Dad, we’re sitting at the same breakfast table. Like, what is your deal?”
But now that I wrote this, she’ll instead know that I did it out of some idiotic sense of moral obligation dictated by my fucked-up brain.
See, Nia? Daddy cares about you very much and is also insane.
The point here is this: Don’t start writing long-overdue blog posts after a sleepless night.
That, and: I love you, Nia. More than you will ever know.