Just wanted to hammer out a quick observation between bouts of fussiness, if I can. One of the biggest changes I've noticed after two and a half weeks of parenting is that my thoughts are a mess. Lis and I have a joke that we've become excellent multitaskers. By this we mean, we are very good at starting multiple projects; unfortunately, we rarely seem to be able to finish any of them. Something happens when you don't hit deep sleep for days on end. There's this persistent, low-grade tiredness that creeps in under everything, and it wreaks havoc on your concentration.
I've seen this in other parents before, but I always thought it was because they were being constantly attentive to their child and so couldn't focus fully on the conversation. As it turns out, now that I'm actually experiencing it, the issue is that I can't be very attentive to anything. I wonder how the writers and the thinkers do it when their kids come along. I'm happy that I've been able to push on with some of my creative work, including a revamping of my Living City proposal (here), but my goodness, the thought of getting lost in the throes of creative inspiration seems practically impossible. This has definitely been a time of some key cognitive rewiring, but I'm confident I'll come through it with insight.
All of the fuzziness aside, junior is insanely adorable and a true joy. He's already above his birth weight, and chubbing up more every day. We also discovered this afternoon that he absolutely loves the white noise setting on his baby chair, so maybe, just maybe, some restful moments await. I have to say that so far I love being a parent. It's hard when baby fusses all night and you don't get more than 15 minutes of sleep in a stretch, but the apocalyptic cuteness as the little one stares into your face in amazement seems an adequate, indeed inordinate recompense.
I've seen this in other parents before, but I always thought it was because they were being constantly attentive to their child and so couldn't focus fully on the conversation. As it turns out, now that I'm actually experiencing it, the issue is that I can't be very attentive to anything. I wonder how the writers and the thinkers do it when their kids come along. I'm happy that I've been able to push on with some of my creative work, including a revamping of my Living City proposal (here), but my goodness, the thought of getting lost in the throes of creative inspiration seems practically impossible. This has definitely been a time of some key cognitive rewiring, but I'm confident I'll come through it with insight.
All of the fuzziness aside, junior is insanely adorable and a true joy. He's already above his birth weight, and chubbing up more every day. We also discovered this afternoon that he absolutely loves the white noise setting on his baby chair, so maybe, just maybe, some restful moments await. I have to say that so far I love being a parent. It's hard when baby fusses all night and you don't get more than 15 minutes of sleep in a stretch, but the apocalyptic cuteness as the little one stares into your face in amazement seems an adequate, indeed inordinate recompense.
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