good morning

Mornings have changed. Used to be: I slept in, my wife got up and cleaned and ran around and played the “morning person” role. I played the “stay out late and be a musician/idiot” role. Nowadays, it’s my wife’s turn. I can’t help but feel resentful that she’s changed to a sleep in stay up late person. It’s not her fault. I know that, intellectually. It still bugs, though. *I* wanna be the sleepy one. Dammit.

So I get up when my body lets me. I go on and off coffee to keep moving (on) and avoid (off) withdrawal headaches. I play with the baby. I make her laugh and smile.

Until she get’s sleepy, or hungry. Then I growl inside and wish my wife, with the breasts, was up.

But no. So I defrost some milk from the freezer, put it in a bottle, and feed the kid. Who’s tired AND hungry this morning. She drinks the bottle. She’s ready to play!

But not to me. I’m trying to rock her to sleep. She’s struggling to sit up. If she could talk, she’d say, “Dammit, Daddy! I want to play! Put me down!”

No amount of bouncing or rocking will get her to calm down and sleep. I fear traumatic brain injury from the bouncing, and set her down on the floor, near some toys.

She cries. I pick her up. She reaches for the toys. Definitely tired.

I let her play a bit, then pick her up. I’m determined to put her to sleep. Dammit.

She struggles, alternating with she yawns. The yawns win out after a counting of sways side to side by her over-anal daddy. I’ve reached one hundred sways many a time before she completely sleeps. If you’re not picturing this, try this at home:

Pick up a 17 pound something. Lay it lengthwise across your left and right arms. Hold your arms at 90 degree angles, like you’re cradling a baby. Now, step side to side bouncing the 17 pounds. Got it? Now try having the something struggle to get out of your arms for the first few minutes. It’s doable, but annoying to the testosterone part of me.

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