March 4, 2013 at 1:36 PM
Having my first child at 52
Lost in a world of baby toys, diapers and a much-younger wife, while trying to retain my sanity. Part Three.
By Eric Davis
The Way I See Things
Eric Davis is rebel, a renaissance man, a racounteur, and a philosopher of little or no consequence.
So now we’ve hit the 2-month mark. I’ve become as efficient at changing diapers as any Indy pit crew changes tires – and I can hold the baby in one arm while preparing her bottle (or doing a host of other things) – and not drop her or cause any spinal injuries…and the sound of her crying no longer causes me to shake in fear. My wife is truly the expert in all areas….but I can still calm the baby down with my soothing personality and voice (hah), and a hand full of Ambien. Tah Dah!
She’s already gained a few pounds since birth, and outgrown newborn diapers. She waves her arms like a conductor whenever she hears music (classical is her favorite at the moment), and makes sounds that seem as if she’s talking in tongues…to herself. Knowing my history and background, this may all be caused by the damage I did to my DNA in my younger days, but we’ll just have to wait and see.
Both sets of Grandparents have now spent time with her. Both claim her facial features as resembling their ancestors – which are as about as diametrically opposed to each other as could possibly be. To me, she looks like a miniature version of my darling wife…only she talks to me in a way that is easier for me to understand on a regular basis.
My night-life has disappeared. My energy has dissipated to a frightening level, and food, drink, and other previous pleasures of my life bring me no joy at all….compared to looking into the face of my sleeping daughter.
Oh, how the once mighty has fallen.
Next time: the process of baby-proofing the house begins, how much CAN she eat, and the endless search for a sitter so I can re-start my social life.