Thursday, June 26, 2008

BAH! Men.


Preface: I love my husband. He is nicer than me and one of the few great men. In the words of a wise lady: "I obviously think so otherwise I wouldn't have chosen to do the nasty and have a child with him". But I can dislike and love at the same time.

Hubby and I have had a fairly steady routine for a while now. It's been working quite well until something awful happened: the Fisher Price Aquarium Swing, the god of our world to which we bowed down, stopped working.

In the mornings I bring baby boy into bed for his morning feed, which is usually around 6 am. I doze while he eats and when he is done hubby takes him out of bed, burping as they go. I assume that baby then gets a fresh diaper (since he's been in the same one for twelve hours I HOPE so!), his medicine, and play time with daddy. I know somewhere in there hubby makes coffee too. Here's what used to happen: I would snooze until about 8 am when hubby would wake me gently with a sweet cheek kiss and whisper "Baby is asleep in the swing, I'm off. Enjoy your day, you beautiful, perfect woman I married!" (Ok, I made some of that up.) Thereafter I would stretch in the soft morning light and sometimes even go back to sleep for a half hour or so until I heard a complaint from the swing in the living room. DREAMY! Yeah it may have been bad to leave baby boy unattended in the swing...but it has a three-point harness!

Things started going downhill when baby boy decided that the little fishies swimming joyfully above his head needed to be eaten and the music needed to be sung along to and that he should struggle continuously to sit up inside the damn thing. No longer working its magic, I piled it with the items going to my friend who is expecting in August. And now my morning is quite different. Just as you can't make someone love you, you can't make a man act like a woman.

About two weeks ago, for about a week, I woke a mere 1/2 hour after the feed routine to hear baby boy whining non-stop. Ok...he does that with me during the day. But it's impossible to ignore it and let hubby figure it out when you just need some sleep goddammit! And when you are half asleep and grouchy. A fight ensued. I led hubby around the house bitchily pointing out ways to occupy baby now that the golden ticket is gone (which I now realize was the ONLY ticket: I'm sure hubby just plopped him in there every morning bringing his swing time to approx 5-6 hours a day when you factor in the later afternoon nap I put him in there for!). I was a little furious still. Why do I have to explain all of this? No one explained it to me!!! I just had to figure it out! Why can't he just try something? Whatever, I smiled through gritted teeth thinking "Don't bite the hand that may give you a couple of hours sleep in the morning". I didn't bite, but I barked instead when hubby exclaimed sometimes he just couldn't calm him and there were things he had to do to get ready in the morning, and so he might just have to whine. Funny. When I have "things to do" during the day, like oh-say, buy the groceries he eats, clean the house (ok, I don't really do that), and other important- things- I-want-to-be-smug- about-but-can't-think-of-right-now I somehow manage...by carrying him. Novel idea. We even have carriers for expressly that purpose. 3 of them in fact. Sigh. Triple sigh, in fact.

So as a result of this, hubby agreed to try harder. Thank you, Jesus! But it's not hard enough. On the weekend, in an attempt to get hubby as excited as I am about our new carrier I convinced him to strap baby boy in there while I was showering and baby boy was feeling particularly whiny. It was great, until hubby came to me wondering how to get him out since he is falling asleep. Uh, so let him fall asleep? He couldn't just wear the kid while he napped for the afternoon, not unlike what I would have to do on any given day? What the hell? I mean, why doesn't he WANT to carry his baby. The guy on the carrier's accompanying DVD called it the most loving thing he did for his baby. But I just know my hubby was thinking : "yay! I'll put him down and then I can play Grand Theft Auto!". Triple sigh again. Fight ensued. Why can't you be more like a woman? Or at least the DVD guy?

Again hubby gives it the old college try...until this morning. 6:30 am I feel something wiggling next to me and then something holding my nipple between two of the tiniest, strongest little pincers known to man. What the hell? WHY ME? (I must admit something here to explain my extreme crabbiness-CIO method is working like a charm for us...baby boy had slept 10 hours straight! But I didn't because I was busy drinking bellinis. Don't smirk.) Where is hubby? Having a leisurely moment reading on the can. I've written about this already so I don't need to go into detail here too much...but come on! After all of the options I gave the man for occupying baby boy he still chooses to bring him to me when the going gets tough?

I have to explain: Yes, you can bring the bouncy chair/bumbo seat/quilt with toy into the bathroom with you. They are portable items for a reason. Yes, sometimes a regular go-to toy is not making the grade, but you need to improvise a little! Tampons from the bottom drawer are fun little drumsticks! A brand-new, unread INStyle magasine (shedding a single tear right now for what I lost) makes the best noise being ripped to shreds! The decorative bucket holding my face creams is like a day at the beach!

How come this engineer seems to be so freakin' dense lately? How did I figure all of this out? Was it genetic? Hormonal? Women's instinct? Perhaps a stay-at-home dad would be an equal to a mom? Do they have all the tricks down pat and have to educate their wives when she gets home from her job? As for my husband, I'm convinced it's just always the easy way out to plop the baby back with me. I suppose I'm a part of the problem. Obviously I just need to make myself more scarce. If only he will experience a smidge of what I endured those first couple of months I just know it will make my journey feel better appreciated. I know he will put me up on that pedestal we new mommies so want to be on...

So, until you've taken a shit while singing the Bonanza! theme song and giving baby a pony ride on your lap...you haven't lived (as a parent). Saddle up, hubby! Momma needs her beauty rest.

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