43. Monday Musings

Yesterday's father's day suffered the problem of my birthday. I want everything to go my way, but I know that just leads to disappointment, so I try to think like it's nothing, a regular day, and just take everything as gravy. But that does not work. And it would never work. Nobody can read my mind, and I'm not the great communicator, and even if those two things could be done, the world does not cooperate. I know this is a silly struggle, but somehow on my birthday I can't get past it, and now, unfortunately, on father's day. But objectively, it was very nice. Diana got some some good presents, including a DVD of The Iceman Commeth, which I love. And Aida gave me a shirt that matches a shirt she gave William. We can dress up together. Diana's mother gave me some silk shirts. Hector text messaged me. Paul called and left a voice mail message. Everyone wished me happy father's day. And I think my best present from Diana was to say that she appreciated me, and thought I was a good father, just before she fell asleep.

I called my father. While he left me, and caused me trauma in many ways, I recognize he's tried to do his best and he has done some positive things. Our relationship is OK now, we try our best.

My poor mother thinks I'm judging her when I talk about raising my child differently than her suggestions. I have a lot of sympathy for parental guilt, and for parents. Raising a child is not easy.

Diana felt guilty for going shopping. I don't need anything, and going to breakfast was a treat (thanks Virginia for paying). But they went shopping, as they always do when we go to New Jersey. Since I got up early, I slept through the Mets game, and woke up when the BBQ family came over: Clemencia, Jorge, Judy, Brian, Joseph. Then Victor, Veronica, Eric, Angel, Checho, Jimmy, Paquita. They brought a friend, who's name I didn't get. Ditto for the dog. When Diana got home from shopping, it's pass the baby around time. Diana's family is pro-children, they are all very sweet. We put baby oil in his hair because of his cradle cap, and then gave him a bath. His hair stays down for a little while when you get it wet. But then it sticks right up.

We got home really late, and poor Diana bustled around the house for a while. I think she got about 4 hours sleep last night. I got about 5.5. She gets up at 5, and I got up at 6:30. His grunting wakes me up, and if he doesn't fully wake up I take the opportunity to drink coffee and read the paper. Diana is glad that this is the last week of school, with next Monday just being a staff day. She will take the baby in that day. I will take her. She sees the end in sight, and has survived this month of working, so we could keep our health insurance, and the cash flow. With usual board of education efficiency, we have not gotten her disability pay for being pregnant.

But more about William. He puts his fist in his mouth. He was following his mother a lot with his eyes the other day. He still tries to get milk from everyone, including me, but I think he's starting to zone in on who his parents are. He was following me with his eyes when people were holding him. In the car he was staring at Aida for a long time. I wonder if I have faces ingrained in my memory. People's looks change, but I think I have the core group of care takes in my head.

I think William is ticklish around his neck. They say he pooped 5 times yesterday. Diana's theory is that it's the breast milk, but they feed him a few bottles of formula while they're out, which is about what I feed him during the day, so I"m not sure if that theory holds up. She hates my skepticism about her theories, she would even hate to hear me characterize her utterance as a theory instead of the gospel from my love.

I'm feeding him all breast milk today because we have a freezer full. It's harder to time unfreezing and freshness with breast milk. You speed it up with hot water, or cold water, and you slow it down with the fridge. But once it's completely thawed, you can't put it back into the fridge, and you can't keep it out for long. But the breast milk is so precious, I don't want to pour it out, with the ease that I pour out easy to come by formula.

He got up around 7:45, had a bottle. I rocked him and held him. He was OK, but began to fuss, and put his fist in his mouth, so I got a small bottle going. He fell asleep, and I swaddled him, but it did not stick, and he woke up. I got another bottle ready, he was fussy, but he only sucked a little before falling asleep. Sometimes he gets caught between half tired, half rested, half hungry, half full. Only time tips the balance.

His face seems to be changing, the shape of his head. He's got huge legs, and arms, my mother wonders if he's over weight, but I don't think that's possible and our pediatrician did not say anything. I saw a Judging Amy episode where a woman starved her baby because people commented on how chubby he was. I like to call him Bubba. He's still rather small, despite going from 10 to 15 pounds. Today he is 8 weeks and 5 days old. What a sweet boy.