Trooper

Recently Aislin has begun to try to talk. I've heard "good," "poop," "me," "milk," and "mom." The last one means the most to me. Mom? What about Dad? She hasn't really made the Aah vowel sound yet, except in "waaaah," so I'm still waiting for her to say "Dad." Of course, I believe all of this is Kate and I assigning words and meaning to sounds she's making. She's not quite four months old. It's a little early to be talking.

Over the weekend, she was a trooper. We went to a party on Saturday and she was as peaceful as could be. She let us know when it was time to go home, but until then she put up with everything. On Sunday we had an early morning breakfast with my best friend who's in town for only four days, and then we went down to Eugene. Once again, she was tolerant of the whole thing until she wasn't. Which was a good long time. What a great baby.

Lately she's had bouts of inconsolable. Have I talked about this? Probably, but what it means is she's recognizing a new need she has and we, her parents, have no idea what it is. Sometimes she's hungry, sometimes she needs a new diaper, sometimes she's just tired. Normally when Kate's here, the golden ticket is nursing. That calms her down no matter what. A few times now she's wanted something else and we don't know what it is. We still don't.

The apartment is a mess and I've been trying to get it cleaned up, but Aislin doesn't seem to want that to happen. She insists she needs to be fed or changed or held all the time. By the time I convince her to take her mid-morning nap, I'm tired myself. The apartment stays squalid. I didn't even get my cup of coffee today until almost 11:00. All I had to do was pour it. On the one hand, it's good. I don't have to justify to myself or anyone else not having a job. If I spend all my time trying to take care of the baby as best I can and I can't even get a cup of coffee from a pot that's already made, or I can't keep the apartment in a livable condition, how can I possibly have a job? I would like to someday go to graduate school, but if this keeps up there's no way in heaven or on earth. It's a paradox. It's confining, but also liberating. I'm confined to this apartment, but liberated from outside responsibility. For now. Eventually everything changes. I'm content to wait.