Day seventy I have made my way to a device I have not seen in at least a month. And then, I used it to pay my student loan and order new headphones for all the walking even though I know that I won’t really be able to use them while I carry the boy. He is in control here.
He is in control but I am in charge. So we see the twist of it. Sometimes we do not know what the boy wants. I am not The Doctor and I cannot ‘speak baby’.
At first it was easy to know what the boy wanted. I call him the boy because he has so many names. Little guy, little man, little D, baby. I call him Janis when he’s doing his best Joplin impression wailing into the night. Most of the ones that stick are from accidental moments of great joy, pointed delirious stress, and sometimes both. I’ll keep them for myself and my family. Hopefully we start using just one or two names by the time he knows what the hell we are saying.
Anyway, at first, he wanted to sleep. That’s it. I don’t remember my birth. I don’t think brains work that way ever. I’m sure I was tired after. I probably was not as tired as my parents were but at that point it was the most tired I’d ever been in my entire life.
It could have been culture shock that tired him out. We talked to the belly where we thought his ears might be. Maybe we were talking to his knee or his ass. We said the things we wanted to say and the things we thought we were supposed to say. We planned this thing called parenthood that cannot truly be planned. Saying we intended parenthood feels more on the nose.
He has started moving his mouth in his sleep. He fell asleep feeding. The mouth movements mean it’s time to play soon.
I think that I will be doing a lot of this writing while he eats. That is the only time I know he is happy and that’s not even always true.
Missive Silo 