Instructions for Duh-Duh (DD)

I had an early morning meeting to get to this morning so DD offered to drop Finn off at Day care – perfect, thanks sweetheart. So as I get out of the car I give him instructions – You don’t need to take Finn’s bag in with him today cause he already has everything he needs there, so you just need to take in his daily sheet which is beside his car seat. Cool? Sounds easy right? This is apparently what DD heard – Wah wah wah wah bag wah wah wah wah sheet wah wah. And this is what he’s thinking “why is she giving me instructions on how to drop the baby off at day care? I mean seriously, you just drop the baby off, how hard can that be?” So as DD goes to drop Finn off, he can’t remember/ignored/didn’t listen in the first place to what I said so he pulls a blank Daily Sheet out of the folder and drops Finn off with that – a blank sheet. Super helpful. What the ??? As you can imagine Finn’s schedule went to hell and he was having his last feed at 4 o’clock in the afternoon instead of 7pm. I swear if he wakes up hungry at 3am in the morning I will begin a lecture with a school-girl-style “I told you so” as I haul my butt out of bed. Nigh-night

The three phases

Finn turns 7 months old today and now when I look back I can pretty much divide the last seven months into three phases. Phase 1 ran from the day we got home from the hospital till Finn was about 6 weeks old. Some people call this period Hell on Earth, but let’s be optimistic and call it simply a Blur. During the Blur the women realizes that while throughout her pregnancy her and her husband were in this together, that she in fact emerged from the hospital alone with a baby (oh, and a guy who drove the car home, parked it and carried on with his life pretty much per normal). The first six weeks are ugly any way you look at – the baby is a little ugly (squashed out of shape and covered in baby acne), you are a little ugly (unwashed hair, no sleep, sagging belly skin that you can’t possibly believe will ever tighten up)…yeah I can’t recall a lot of stellar moments in those first six weeks. Finn - 3 days old (a little smushed and covered in baby acne - nice :))

Phase 2 went from 6 weeks to 4 months. I call is Mommy’s Little Helper stage. As a result of multiple meltdowns of the variety that actually frightened my husband, he thought it best to become mommy’s little helper. He would say things like what can I do for you sweetheart? And in your mind I’m going seriously is the pile of laundry/dirty dishes/overflowing garbage/smell of the baby’s diaper from 20 feet away/state of my hair and clothes not obvious?

The first couple of times I thought finally, some bloody help around here! And then I realized I now had two children because 1. I needed to think of what jobs my new helper could actually do for me (that wouldnt require step by step “I may as well do it myself”-type instructions) and 2. that I had begun to think that only I could properly care for the baby precisely “the way it needs to be done” and 3. That before, during and after said help I felt obliged to provide husband with significant encouragement, support and gratitude. Who the hell has the energy for all of that?!

Then, thank god, we entered Phase 3 – somewhere between 4 and 6 months Finn turned from something that let’s just face resembled a blobbish alien-like creature into a creature with some personality. Once Finn began to respond to DD and they began to develop some kind of bond we were on the home stretch. Suddenly it felt like we were out of the blur and we’d somehow emerged a family. Maybe for some people this happens the day they leave the hospital with their newborn in hand, perhaps we’re just slow learners. But either way we’ve turned a corner in the journey and I’m glad to have emerged intact!

My baby is a player

My baby is a total flirt. Now this would be fine if he wasn’t attached at the hip (quite literally) to a devoted introvert. I was just on the subway with Finn, minding my own business, when I sense someone staring in my general vicinity. I look up to discover that Finn has caught the eye of a pretty lady sitting opposite us – of course the problem is, when she starts interacting and talking with him, I’m the one who has to then respond and start carrying on a conversation with a complete stranger (which in NYC subways can be some very odd people).

Anyway, the first couple of times this happened I named these people “Finn Fans”. I have always figured that certain types of people are just baby fans. But then I spent a bit of time observing what is really going on here and that’s when I discovered that my baby is a complete, unashamed, outright player. This is his strategy. First he scans the room, or subway car, or beer garden, or store, you get the picture. He finds the most attractive female (I have tested this theory, don’t doubt me on this one, the baby doesn’t like ugly people!). Then he proceeds to stare and I mean, really stare. If the Subject moves, his eyes follow, if they move further, he nearly turns himself inside out to continue staring at the Subject. Soon enough the Subject will sense a stare and look. Bingo! Gotcha! He flashes a crushingly gorgeous smile and then MOVES ON to another person, just like that! Where does this leave me? With a lot of strangers to talk to. Ugh!

The disappearing act

I have always wondered why it seems that once people have kids that they must discard their old friends who don't have kids and quite literally disappear off the planet.

I have always thought that this is a choice these new parents make. Any one who's had a baby knows that while you're pregnant you make this list of all the things you need to do in your life in preparation for "THE BABY". You know, like categorize your medicine cabinet, straighten the shoes in your closet once and for all, dryclean all winter coats, it goes from seemingly useful to the ridiculous. But anyway, while 'discard existing friends without children' is never actually ON the list, once THE BABY has arrived some new parents seem to act as though it was.

And it is not as if this is done lightly or politely. You don’t sit down your old friends and say, “Look, this obviously isn’t going to work out for either of us anymore. It's been great, thanks for the good times, thanks for the laughs but gotta go – ciao”. No, no, instead there are either one of two ways this story ends from my observations so far...

Either the new parents slowly but surely become the rudest people you’ve ever known – they slow down on returning calls and emails, they turn up late, pull out at the last minute and, if they should happen to make an appearance, the whole experience is tantamount to a broadway production. Eventually the friends without kids stop inviting those with them because it’s simply too much effort or drama or there's just downright too many sacrifices on their part for what gain? As much as the new parents wish the delight of seeing their newborn would overcome all of this, it really doesn’t cut it, particularly not in the beginning when, let's be honest, all babies are a little alien-like-needy-blob-of-baby-acne.

The other option? Well, I suspect that's where you’re in denial that the first option is inevitable. So, in partnership with your long-time friends with no kids, you’re attempting to swim against the tide. Both sides are sincerely keen to make it work, adapting the old life to the new needs, but mostly in the beginning both parties sincerely wish the last chapter of their lives never closed. I for one will see if it truly is possible to forge another path…