Musings of a new Dad

Well it has been slightly more than three months since the birth of my daughter. Since then I have had numerous people ask me what it is like to be a parent, how much work is it, how often you have to feed them, when do they sleep, etc. All of these questions are fairly easy to answer, but from time to time someone asks me, "what have you learned?". Now I sense that these people are not looking for some bit of factual data that I was previously unaware of, they are looking for some deep spiritual, metaphysical truth that was revealed to me during the process of learning to raise a child. It is after much thought and contemplation therefore, that I have come to this conclusion.

There is nothing that is at once as amusing and enlightening as watching a baby shit.

There it is for you. The deep truth I have discovered all for myself. Now the amusing part it fairly obvious for anyone that has held a newborn in their arms while they were in the midst of performing one of nature's most common activities. I suppose that lack of sleep helps makes even the most mature person susceptible to bathroom humor, but even the most serious of my friends cracks a smile when my daughter gets her defecatory groove going. Her little face gets contorted in ways that Jim Carrey has yet to discover. The grunts and groans she makes somehow always reminds me of men lifting weights in the gym. I find myself compelled to shout: "c'mon, one more, give me one more." The desire to change that diaper only once instead of twice only compounds the urge.

The enlightening part takes a little longer to grasp. It comes from realizing that for a newborn, the world is all new. Everything in it, from the sublime to the mundane, is an unknown in need of parsing. I have watched my daughter raise her arm and flex her fist open and closed over and over for a solid fifteen minutes as she slowly reaches the conclusion that this thing in front of her is actually an extension of herself and under her complete control. Simple things--striped pillows, ceiling fans, bright lights--all are objects of endless fascination. The act of taking in all the sights and sounds of their environment is a consuming task for a newborn.

The act of defecation interrupts this sensory theatre. One minute I'll be holding my daughter on a pillow in front of me as she contemplates whether or not my nose can possibly be as big as it appears, and bam! Everything stops and the aforementioned amusement begins. Her eyes get very big, any casual cooing stops, and her face assumes a look of complete and utter concentration. A Zen Master in deep meditation has nothing on this girl at this point. Her mind and body are one, focused on the task at hand.

I suppose that any wisdom that comes from parenting comes from the opportunity to observe those things that we once knew but have now forgotten. I remember a time when I could focus on something to the exclusion of everything else. I can remember when I felt that something was so important that it required every ounce of my mind and body's attention. I can remember a time when I could go to bed and not lie awake for an hour as I contemplate the things I needed to get done the next day. Yes, life is easier when someone else is taking care of the details that have somehow consumed our lives. It is difficult to look at everything that must be done and pick only one thing to focus on. At this point though, if I had to chose, I would chose to focus on her. I would focus on that little girl and I would watch, learn, and remember.



Dad and daughter in a quieter moment.

Who has you as a father.

and give it to her when she's a teenager:evilgrin:

You have just begun one of the most rewarding trips of your life. Enjoy even the "bad" parts. It would be a wonderful gift for your daughter, yourself and perhaps other new and old parents if you would document stories like this one. It is very touching and brought back many memories (Yes, bathroom humor is a BIG part of the early years)

That's so sweeeeet! ~sniffle~

Fatherhood really *has* softened you up, hasn't it? :D

So long as I'm in the Lounge that is. Get me into GD though... :)

=)

Thank you for sharing it with a Mommy in the throes of grief over her baby boy passing into boyhood...

It's been two years, almost. But I remember. And your post made me remember so much more.

I'll leave it to you to explore the "terrible 2's" further when the time comes. They're not terrible, really. Every day ends (God willing) with a wondeful sense of peace and tranquility; it's just that you have to work a bit harder for it. And then a bit more at 3, and at 4, and at 5...so I'm told.

Bless you Nederland and bless that lovely little baby Girl!

-unidentifiedbassplayer