Little Dude is now 4 weeks old.
My sister Samara calls the early days of parenthood “The Twilight Zone;” as far as I’m concerned this first month of being a Dad is a hell of a lot like the first month of college.
Our home is scattered with empty take-out containers and vomit-covered clothing – not mine or Wifey’s, I promise – and we rarely change out of our pajamas. The whole “lack of sleep” thing is only the beginning. Just like Freshman year I’m awake all night and sneaking in naps during the day, and just like back then I somehow manage to feel guilty about both. Of course in college it was easy to blame the delirium on other factors; now I’ve learned that compounded exhaustion really is enough to make you hallucinate (and/or shed spontaneous tears of laughter whilst convulsing on the floor at 3 AM).
Once again I’m living off of noodles and pizza; I’ve graduated from insta-ramen to delicious phô from the OB Noodle House and I’m proud to say that the stuff we eat out of the freezer was usually home-cooked the first time. But I almost never leave the neighborhood, and when I do I spend the whole time wondering what I’m missing out on.
Just like when I was 18 I’d give just about anything to have somebody to clean up after me. And just like when I was 18 that’s the last thing that I can afford. There’s lots of work I should be doing, but – once again – I’m convinced that the new relationship(s) I’m forming are far more important. (I’m still pretty sure I’m right about that in both cases, incidentally.)
My days and nights brim with both excitement and anxiety, just like when I first moved to New York City for school. After all, this is only the beginning. But for better or worse – unlike my undergraduate experiences – this adventure will last a lifetime.