Today is Harris' four month birthday, and tomorrow is my 480 month birthday. The Boy is thriving, happy, drooling, interactive-esque, angelique, demonic, pissy and poopy - all the things a baby should be. He's just under 14 pounds and 61 cm long - I would say tall, but he's not standing. But if you're nit-picky about length over height, he is 14 cm tall, supine.
Me? I'm good. When I was in my "200s" I didn't even think I'd live till now, so it's an accomplishment for me. Plus I've got a beautiful baby, a delightful wife, close family and good friends - life's a pretty sweet fruit at the moment.
On Friday some friends took me out for an early birthday dinner. My mother came over so we could have a baby-free
bender. I can't remember when I got so drunk, it was like I was 337 months old again! But unlike those carefree days, I've got responsibilities now, and those responsibilities have been waking up in the middle of the night crying. An hour and a half of sleep in me, alcohol coursing through my liver and I'm trying to rock my distressed son back to sleep. Mom offers to give Harris a bottle, but I don't want him to get back into the habit of feeding at night, "No! He'll go back to sleep!"
He doesn't, and starts crying harder. Mom offers me his bottle again. I shoo her away. I can see the concern and disappointment in her face. Now it's me that's acting like a baby. Why did I pick tonight to be drunk and stubborn instead of drunk and maudlin - my usual MO? Forty-five minutes later I cave and let Patty feed him. Next morning I can barely look at my Mom in the eye - easily my darkest moment as a father so far.
The last month has been quite a month for the boy. Harris the Top-Heavy
(he still pocesses a mascot-sized head) co-starred alongside Elise the Long
, my co-worker Christine's "tall" baby girl at our office Christmas party. The two were the toast of the party, and got a lot of attention (except when I changed his diaper, then the crowd mysteriously dispersed). It was also nice to meet Erin, Christine's husband.
Harris is finally starting to spend time on his stomach. We got him a Lamaze First Mirror
, not so much for the mirror but for the foam wedge. It lets him spend time stomach-side without his face a couple of millimetres from the floor. He loves it! Despite being head heavy he has remarkable neck strength.
The boy's also developed a preference for his Mom, and spent the last few weeks ignoring me. I can bounce him and play with him and bath him and feed him, and he'll barely acknowledge my presense. I move my face into his line of sight and he turns his head, then starts fussing. Patty walks into the room and it's all smiles and laughs and cooing. Hmph! Well one day I'll teach him how to chase skirts, who'll be the popular parent then?!?