I feel like Finn’s life is now marked with photographs. It will be the only way to follow it. Already he’s 12lbs+ barely fitting in his ‘3 Month’ size wear and looking different everyday. He’s stiffer – if you don’t have a baby this means their muscles are developing and he’s holding himself ‘up’ more. He stays awake longer and is interacting (as much as he can at one month). I know this sounds obvious, but I can see him getting older before my eyes. This is why I think the only way I’ll be able to relive his youth is through the photographs (which I’ve been yelled at many times to take more of.)
I think the biggest thing I’m learning through this whole process is patience, to wait, to breathe. Not just from his blood curdling middle of the night terror screams, but overall. To allow myself some space to let things go, maybe even to not be so uptight about making everything just so. Lis and I have seen other people with their children, people who should not be allowed to have them, younger parents than us that can’t even hold a job, drunkards who abuse their children (mentally & physically) – I just know I’m doing right by him then. I’m not blowing cigarette smoke in his face or not cleaning his diaper enough (heaven knows we are washing them enough). The worrying is what pushes this, making sure he is the priority not me.
Maybe that is what being a real dad is all about – coming to that realization that you as hot shit as you think you are.