Becoming-A-Dad Plays Becoming-A-Mom
Becoming-A-Mom’s maternity leave has come to an end (52 weeks paid maternity leave, courtesy the enlightened Government of Canada). She returned to work on Wednesday. She works four 12-hour shifts in a row (2 days, then 2 nights) before getting 5 days off. This means she gets up before Juliette does and leaves before we’re out of bed. So I’ve been pretending to be an organized and dutiful parent in Mom’s place.
This means that about 7 am my alarm rings and I ignore it. If Juliette is already awake, I’ve been ignoring her grunts, yelps and screams for a while. If she’s not awake yet, I lie in bed hoping to catch another 15 minutes of sleep but not getting it, as I’m too paranoid of sleeping too long.
After an appropriate time varying from 2 to 20 minutes [additional rest time = 1 / (volume X frequency of screaming)] I drag my sorry butt out of bed, collect Juliette and stumble out into the hall. This calms the little critter.
Imagine now a little programmer’s flow chart. I put her in either her high-chair (if she’s screaming her “I’m HUNGRY!” scream) or in her ExerSaucer (if she’s relatively calm). I either feed her or have my shower – depending on the previous step – then continue on to the step by-passed. Both paths of this flow chart must be followed.
It’s now a mad rush to get both myself dressed and ready for work as well as Juliette suited up to go to her Daycare. I have to make sure I don’t forget her lunch and snack, or I’ll be in the doghouse for years.
Sequencing is the most important part of this.
- dress myself
- grab an apple or something to eat (if I remember)
- put on my shoes and jacket
- get Juliette’s food from the fridge and put it in her bag
- pick up Juliette from wherever she is – highchair, Exersaucer or playing on the floor
- put Juliette’s jacket on her
- put Juliette’s shoes on
- grab Juliette’s bag (still carrying Juliette)
- grab my office crap
- take my housekeys out of my pocket
- open the door and step outside
- close and lock door
- put keys back in pocket
If any of these things are done out of order, chaos ensues. If any of these steps are missed, more chaos and ridicule.
I drop Juliette off at her daycare and hope she doesn’t cry for too long after I leave.
For the next 8 hours I get to enjoy immersing myself in work. That was sarcasm if you missed it.
When my little Outlook reminder pops up I grab my coat and head to the car and pick up Juliette from daycare. She so far has been overjoyed to see me and gives me a great big hug and smile. I take her home and get ready to give her a bath and feed her dinner.
Once I’ve got my own poop sorted, I give Juliette a bath. For 15 minutes I get to zone out and play the goofy father as I splash her with water and make little games with her toys. After that it’s out and into her pyjamas.
Next it’s into the highchair and time for dinner. I feed her the main course (usually some sort of potatoes/veggie/meat puree) then about the same amount of dessert (usually a variation on applesauce with pablum mixed together). She sits in her chair and plays with a toy while I prepare my own dinner. And when I eat, she sits there and begs pieces of it from me. I wonder sometimes if having a dog would be the same.
The first day Juliette is hyper-active and wants to play. She bounces around the living room playing with all of her toys and demanding I play with her. Becoming-A-Mom arrives home around 8:45 pm, just as I’m getting ready to put Juliette into bed. Juliette at first seems happy, then turns her head and snubs Becoming-A-Mom for the first 2-3 minutes. It’s as if to say, “how DARE you leave me with him!”. But pretty soon she realizes that this means breast milk and she forgives her. A quick nursing session ends in a deep and peaceful sleep. Ahhhhhh…
The next day after dinner Juliette and I play with toys for a while, and once she’s tired (7 pm) I put her in her crib. She falls asleep without much fuss. I’m killing zombies on the computer when Becoming-A-Mom comes home.
You know, this isn’t so hard. But what’s coming is the dreaded Night Shift – and Becoming-A-Mom is not going to be here to nurse Juliette before putting her to bed or to nurse her in the middle of the night when she is used to having a quick nosh.
I furiously knit my brow and concentrate on growing boobs.
