Things My Son Taught Me... Seven Month Edition

Prior Post(s) in this series:

• Things I've Learned Since Becoming A Father

Ask any parent what it is like to have a child and you will probably hear some variation of "it's such an amazing experience; I don't know how to describe it," or "I've never experienced such love and joy." There is a large amount of truth in each of those answers and their assorted variations, but every parent leaves a lot of things unsaid. There truly, and I mean that with all sincerity, just are not proper combinations of words in any language that can convey what it is like to have your own little spawn creating a whirlwind of... not terror... umm... well... crap. We'll come back to that thought. Maybe providing some lessons I've learned first will provide enough background for us to come up with the ending of that statement together.

Lesson One: "If I can reach it, I can try to eat it."

I knew a kid was prone to putting anything into their mouth and at least trying to bite it a few times. That hasn't surprised me. What has surprised me, however, is that pillows are the greatest thing ever invented for trying to eat. Consistently. To the point where my son's excitement to see the pillow and lunge for it, jaws agape, like a little vampire diving onto a plump, chunky human after weeks of fasting seems to be normal behavior to us now.

And hard plastic? You would think that would be tossed aside quickly in favor of any number of hundreds of other items we now possess, but a hard plastic toy seems to be the second best option. Lesson learned. The more logical the thought of something being a highly sought after chew toy, the less likely my son will choose to chew on it.

Lesson Two: "I will show you the true power of the digestive system."

Chemical warfare. There is no other phrase that even possibly encapsulates the odors a child can produce. I have smelled many, many things in my lifetime that were unpleasant, and even borderline unbearable. There are times when my son will turn, look me dead in the eye, and then let rip the most unholy of odors while laughing maniacally (ok, in fairness, he just smiles and giggles slightly, but I interpret that as the infant equivalent of the Joker's hysterical laughter in this situation).

Not even a group of adult males binging on Taco Bell and Krystal after a night of liberal consumption of libations can compare to the destructive power of an infant's normally functioning and fully operational digestive system. Lesson learned. Invest in gas masks, febreeze, lysol, and powerful vortex fans to push airflow throughout the home...

Lesson Three: "I can still be ridiculously cute, and you will still fall for it."

I'm pretty sure every parent has the same basic idea bout their own child. Genetics should require such behavior. Seriously, if my son was not as cute/handsome/adorable as he is, I can see how ignoring him could be an option. Or donating him. Or trying to return him to the hospital. Being adorable has to be the baby equivalent of a genetic defense mechanism, ensuring parental attachment and continued survival into adolescence, when parental investment is too great to scrap the project and start over.

Seriously, how could you not fall for this face? Lesson learned. Your child possesses innate kryptonite to keep you from trying to pawn him/her off.

Lesson Four: The joy of watching a child grow, and the happiness they bring, really cannot be explained.

Think of the following string of descriptors: excitement, apprehension, confusion, joy, fear, frustration, exhaustion, love. Yeah... children are an emotional train wreck slamming into a psychological roller coaster at the apex of the first hill. Every milestone is a combination of excitement that the minion achieved something new and apprehension at how this new skill translates into getting into something you haven't thought of yet. The classic example is learning to crawl, because as a parent you become ecstatic for a fleeting moment that your child figured out movement (a complex concept), followed by the immediate realization that your child is now capable of getting into things that you used to place safely out of reach (and the dread that comes with realizing your child can now stalk you). Lesson learned. Kids are wonderful, you just have to learn to focus on the positive moments.

Lesson Five: There is a different kind of love a parent possesses for their child, and it should not be in any type of competition with the love each parent holds for their significant other.

This is one of those things that tends to be overlooked, and yet is absolutely an important distinction to make. The love I feel for my son cannot be explained. I didn't choose to love him, I just did. I didn't find him attractive and court him, he just showed up and I was smitten. I can't choose not to love him (well, ok, technically I could...). On the other hand, I did seek out my wife. I found her attractive and courted her, wanting to spend the rest of my life with her by my side. These are both manifestations of love, but they are absolutely a different kind of love from one another. Neither is stronger than the other. While this isn't necessarily a lesson my son taught me, and I'm taking a break from the humorous aspect for this point, it's something that has become that much clearer having a child. Just keep this one in mind and make sure you focus on both relationships properly, ok?

Lesson Six: Fear is a strong emotion. It will test you.

Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering...Come on, did you really thing I wouldn't work that quote in when I decided to add a point about fear to the list? Children will test your ability to overcome fear. How close do I let him crawl at light speed toward the edge of the couch before I stop him from diving head first onto the hardwood floor? How big a bite do I let him keep of that teething wafer, or whatever solid food we're trying today? Am I putting the fracking car seat in correctly or does it just look and feel like it is correct, lulling me into a false sense of security?

I'm suddenly an overprotective father. How? I've never been overprotective that I'm aware of. It is a constant line I have to remind myself to be mindful of, and force myself to accept some things as part of the learning process. It isn't always easy. Lesson learned. Having a child will make you suddenly question the safety of everything you are doing, even though you know full well you did plenty of stupid stuff as a kid that should have killed you.

So, how do we finish that statement I couldn't figure out how to finish earlier? Well, I'm not so sure we need to. After all, we've made it this far without the proper combinations of words to describe the ups and downs, the joys and frustrations, the sheer excitement and mind-freeing angst of raising a child. What's another few hundred years before trying to come up with another way to describe it to someone else?

Things I've Learned Since Becoming a Father

Apparently there are a number of things that seem to be known to the vast majority of parents, yet never seem to be shared with expectant/new parents until well after they have discovered the information for themselves. For example, did you know that a newborn can be perfectly calm and content... sleeping (or pseudo-sleeping at any rate) on your chest, and suddenly decide that it is the perfect time to emulate the ear-shattering, brain-numbing scream of the ancient Nacirema war priests for random ten minute (if lucky... three hours if you get the short straw and have a colicky baby) intervals? Yeah, that's not something people tell you about in advance...

Don't get me wrong, there are a number of great things about having a newborn no one ever manages to express either. For instance, the first time your kid smiles at you, you pretty much forget about how close you've gotten to wanting to send him off to military school/strangle him/give him back to the hospital and, suddenly, find yourself pumped so full of dopamine (and for all intents and purposes subjected to a form of lobotomy apparently, since you unexpectedly forget all the negative things that have been building and bringing you closer and closer to insanity over the past few weeks) that the kid could scream for an hour, pee through his diaper onto you, spit up on and down your shirt, and claw your neck with those razor-sharp talons that are supposedly fingernails, all at the same time, and you'd still just melt at the sight of that precious little smile.

Ok, that doesn't sound great, but you get the idea. So, I thought it might be a nice idea to put together a quick list of the things I've discovered that I would have liked to have had shared with me prior to bringing home a miniature human spawn. These are in no particular order:

• Negative - We already covered the ancient Nacirema war priest screams. This is really only one of a handful of truly dickish behaviors your child will engage in at some point over the course of the first few hours/days/weeks/months of life.
• Positive - Seriously, nothing can prepare you for the awe-inspiring power of an infant's smile. S/he can practically get away with murder at this stage. Instead of the Chewbacca Defense, I give you the Innocent-and-Happy-Smile-of-a-Newborn Defense.
• Negative - Babies do not breathe like normal people. Sometimes s/he will breathe in what appears to be a perfectly normal, regulated inhale/exhale pattern. Most of the time, though, there will be random pauses, sometimes wheezing, sometimes rasping, sometimes groaning, and sometimes just silence that will, at every possible opportunity, cause you to think your child is dead or dying. I wish I was kidding. This is, without a doubt, your child finding any possible way to pay you back for anything you have done in your lifetime to make others fear for your life, by a magnitude of thirty-fold, by the time they reach a year old.
• Positive - I'm pretty sure Heaven on Earth is the feeling of having your child lay on your chest and fall asleep, hands wrapped as far around you as they can reach. I don't even know what else to compare it to. Maybe being able to drink Jack Daniels constantly without any of the negative side effects, just the buzz? Oh, or maybe the rose scented farts of a diamond-skinned Unicorn? The point is, there just isn't anything else that compares.
• Negative - Babies do not have fingernails. Instead, they have razor-sharp talons of death that constantly claw at your neck and throat, trying to scratch through your esophagus and dig into your trachea with every Nacerima war priest scream. Yes, they're that sharp. ALL. THE. TIME. Even after cutting and filing them down.

These are only a couple of things that I didn't know before experiencing them firsthand. Naturally the positives are things that you really can't know until you experience them anyway, but the negatives are things that I could have definitely done with some forewarning about. I probably wouldn't have really believed anyone telling me those things anyway, but at least it would have been filed away in the back of my mind to be recalled when needed. There will be more to post, I'm sure. For now, though, it seems I must run. The mini Nacerima war priest is calling...