He’s growing up, one little thing at a time. Whether it’s how he now interacts with his own feet or how he tries to chew his tongue like it’s a piece of gum, he’s starting to become more than he was, more than just the weird little glowworm he’d been for these last months. Smiling and laughing and babbling and yelling. Not just at nothing, but at the world.
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Let me be your birth control, those without kids: the first six weeks of raising a Tiny Human provide a lesson in small miseries. You have not slept. The pieces of your life — the schedule that holds your sanity together — has been hammered apart like so much peanut brittle.
“You’re building the walls of your own prison. And the baby, the baby is the warden. Oh, he’s a cherub-cheeked warden, all right. He’s cute. Chipmunk cheeks packing love and adorability the way real chipmunks store acorns. But don’t misunderstand. He’ll run you hard.”
Hit me with your best shot. (No, not shit: the baby’s already doing that, thanks.) Best advice for parents with a newborn — double points if it’s advice that goes toward helping this penmonkey still monkey with his pens. I know you parents have collected wisdom stored up in your brains and it yearns to have the cherry popped.
Benjamin Charles Wendig — aka “B-Dub,” or “The Little Dude” — is downstairs with Mom and Grandmom as I type this. Chilling out after the first feeding of the night. He’s cluster feeding, now, which means he likes to eat a lot in very short order. He’s like a shark the way he shakes his head and approaches the nipple.
BUT WE’RE BACK. After all, the baby’s out, so he’s pretty much on his own now. It’s a hard world. I duct taped a little spear into his rubbery hands and painted him up like Braveheart. He’ll figure it out. In the meantime, let’s sign up a hot tasty new flash fiction challenge, one with a little extra juice on the line in the form of FREE E-BOOKS.
