If We Only Knew......
What Maya was thinking, we would probably be happier for knowing. This picture was taken by Michelle in our bedroom one sunny afternoon. Michelle has become quite fond of dressing the peanut up for mini-photo shoots while daddy is away at work. One of the coolest things about this is that when Michelle and I were in college, I took a picture of her in the exact same position (well, not leaning on a Boppy, but propped up on her arm). We plan on getting this one blown up as long as the image has enough resolution to do it justice.
The longer I am a dad and the older that Maya gets, I find it more and more rewarding and difficult. Not in the sense that she is difficult (although she can be), but that it is difficult being away from her all day long missing out on these types of moments. I suppose it is a dose of what millions of working moms (and dads) go through every day. Parenting really runs you through the emotional gauntlet. Absolute joy in coming home and having her look you in the face with a smile that says “I know you...you take care of me...I can trust you and that makes me happy”. And then having you ready to pull your hair out (even though I don’t have much), throw in the towel and wish that you could just push that Staples easy button to get out of a situation that no one wants to be in. I’m referring to those situations (and they don’t happen often with Maya) when there is absolutely nothing that I can do to calm her down or soothe her. As a parent and perhaps more generally as a male I find myself always looking for solutions. Enter the age old debate of man vs. women. Where there is a problem, I look for a solution. Stuff trying to figure out why there is a problem, who cares, let’s fix it and move on. You would think through 6.5 years of marriage and 3.5 months of being a dad I would have figured out that I can’t solve everything and that in some instances, you have just have to deal with a situation that is out of your control.
Don’t get me wrong, i’m not complaining as much as pointing out some areas of potential frustration for other dads or moms who look at life the way that I do. Frustration I am finding is amplified 10 fold when you are dealing with something that your genetic code is written to protect, care for and ensure that whatever is wrong is fixed. Add into that that the thing, the baby, can’t talk back and tell you what is wrong but insists on crying loud enough for the entire north west side of Chicago to be able to hear and you are beginning to understand those moments of hair pulling frustration. Regardless of all of that, I wouldn’t change a single thing. The old adage of what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger is true. Moreover, you learn to love some of the little things about a tantrum. As an example, Maya’s face goes taught and her mouth is partly open and she typically starts with a whimper that crescendo’s into a full out roar. The whimpering part is something that I love even though it is a sign of impending baby frustration, she is too darn cute, even when she is mad.
Friday, September 21, 2007