It's also pretty amazing how much kids can change in 6 months (cliché alert!). It's true, though. He's got a personality now. He has a voice. He has very clear likes and dislikes. He's got habits and quirks. He's also over 20 pounds now. He's twice the size he was 6 months ago (but then again, so am I).
The thing I find a lot of parents don't talk about is how much THEY change. When Otto was born, I had freshly turned 30. I made the transition pretty smoothly, I think. I felt young. I was in the best shape I had been in in years. I was eating well and taking better care of myself than I ever had. But 6 months can change everything.
Now, I'm old. As the main character in Motherless Brooklyn puts it, I'm not fat, not muscular, just "bear like." I am chronically tired and as a result I eat mostly sodium. Sometimes I eat saturated fats with my sodium. There's nothing better than deep fried sodium. I lose my breath going up a flight of stairs at the library. I also am so coffee dependant I'm almost to the point of waking myself at night for a coffee so I don't wake up with a headache in the morning.
This concept of rapid aging first came to me while we were in Hawaii. This was the first time I didn't surf while I was there. It was a little sad, because I love to surf, but sometimes things just don't work out. I was already in a cycle of bad eating and pretty severe coffee dependance by that time. I started boogie boarding while I was there and I used my boogie boarding to convince myself I'm not that old. And that worked, for a while. As long as I was boogie boarding, I was fine. Then it donned on me. My boogie boarding partner was my father-in-law. Actually, he did more boogie boarding than I did. The day I reached my epiphany we had happened to run into one of my uncles who was also boogie boarding with us. That day, I was the only person boogie boarding on our beach under 50 (of about 6 or so people). Well, that's not entirely true. There was an 8 year old that I was trying very hard to keep up with.
My self observation of getting older continued after we got home. I think I've found a pretty reliable measurement tool for evaluating if you're old or not. It's based on what you are embarrassed to buy at the pharmacy. When you're really young it's junk food, and if you're not that bright, maybe cigarettes. When your young and in your prime, it's things like condoms and feminine hygiene products. Then one day, you're hiding Propecia pills and Senekot under your arm as you pull your hat low and walk out the automatic doors.
My scenario is a little different than most parents, though. My rapid aging process has much less to do with Otto, and much more to do with studying. (Since my last post, by the way, I finished reading Rosen's. Ever finished a book and realized you don't really remember how it started?). In fact, Trisha pretty much does 95% of the parenting so I can get all my reading done (so if she asks, I was reviewing flash cards while I was typing this blog, okay?).
Trisha has been amazing through all of this. She's been put through a lot while I've been studying. She essentially has become the single mother of three problem children. The cute one that doesn't sleep and has just learned how to have temper tantrums, the ugly and jealous one that insists on constant attention in the form of "fetch" (that's Ralph by the way), and the hulking, absent minded man-child that is currently completely unable to look after himself. The third one can recite the diagnostic criteria for endocarditis verbatim, but can't remember to buy milk on the way home.
So if you read this blog and you know us, please remember my poor wife sometime. I have a little over a month and a half until I'm done this exam completely. At that time I can (hopefully) be a normal, adult parent/spouse. In the mean time, my wife needs support. Coffee date. Phone call. Text message. Thanks.
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| Ralph. Upside down. |
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